A Gentleman's Affair (8 page)

“Bruce, good to see you again.” I reach for
his hand and give him a firm handshake. “Let Jared know that your
first round is on me tonight. Enjoy your evening.” He thanks me and
hurries over to the bar.

This is one of my more interesting
customers. He and his wife, Marcy, have a little role-playing game
that they play. He shows up first, then she follows after a few
moments, always in some odd get-up that includes a different
colored wig and some sort of costume-like leather outfit. Very
different from what the other members here wear when they come in.
But that is what you get when you run an adult club. Most of my
members have some sort of fetish…some sort of interesting kinky
side. I like that the Cassidys keep it fresh. They have been
married for twenty-five years now. I think that must be the trick
to a lasting marriage: bad wigs and hot sex.

I then direct my attention back to Reggie.
“Alright, I don’t need a scene tonight. It’s much too busy in here
for that.” I turn and head back toward the bar. “Never again,
Reggie. Understood?” I sit back down on the stool, shaking my head
as I look at Jared. “If it happens again, let me know. Whether I’m
here or not, she is not to be let in again. Got it?” I throw back
my drink and get up to leave. “I think I’d better leave before I
say or do something that I might regret. I’ll be upstairs.”

I leave the club and make my way through the
lobby to the elevator. As I wait, lost in thought…disgust…whatever
you’d like to call it, from seeing her face in my club, I am
suddenly caught off guard by a gentle touch on my arm.

“Donovan, I get the feeling that you’re not
happy to see me here,” it says. Yes, “it”. That is how I have
referred to her over the last two years. She rarely came up in
conversation, but when she did, she was always referred to as
“it”.

I turn and respond with a nasty smirk across
my face. “No, I’m always happy to see the woman who slept with most
of Malibu while we were together. It’s always a pleasure to see
you, Dani.” I turn and face the elevator again, hoping that the
doors open soon so that I can make my escape.

“Oh, don’t be like that Donovan. It wasn’t
like that and you know it.” The doors finally open and I quickly
step inside.

“I really don’t care, Dani. Now, would you
kindly leave my hotel before I have security throw you out?”

Fuck, but I did care. Although I was well
over her, I thought that she might have been “the one”. She was my
first love, I guess you could say. Before her, it was all one-night
stands, threesomes, foursomes and endless drunken nights in my club
doing things that you only read about in books. Sure, there were a
few short relationships sprinkled in here and there, but it was
Danielle that changed things for me. I changed almost everything
about myself. I was, for the first time in my life, a one-woman
man. What a fucking idiot.

Never again, I promised myself back then,
after she broke my heart. But after returning to my old ways for
the past two years, I did realize that I do still want a real
relationship. One just like the Cassidys have. Minus the weird
wigs.

“I know you care, Donovan. Why don’t you let
me have another chance? Let me fix what I messed up.” She follows
me into the elevator and before I can throw her out, the doors
close. The scent of that fucking perfume of hers now fills the air.
Not fair. She always knew how much I loved that scent.

Before I know it, she is pressed hard
against me, her incredible almond-shaped chocolate-brown eyes
staring up at me, pleading for another chance. Glaring down at her,
I push her away and take a step back. “Let it go, Dani. There’s no
fixing anything. You broke my fucking hear…” I quickly stop myself
before completing that sentence. I won’t give her the satisfaction
of hearing the words.

“Your heart…I know, Donovan, and I’m sorry.
I messed up and I need you to forgive me, please.” She moves closer
again, too close.

“I am not doing this Dani. You’re just
embarrassing yourself at this point.” Christ, she smells good, and
she still looks as beautiful as I remember. “I forgive you,
alright?”

The elevator doors to my floor open, leaving
us standing at the entrance to my penthouse. As I look into her
eyes, her beautiful almond-shaped eyes, something comes over me.
Memories of all the good times we had together flash in my mind.
Memories of what a sweet girl she was, back then. Or maybe, just
maybe, I drank too much.

I pull her against me, lifting her off her
feet as I press my lips hard against hers, whisking her out of the
elevator and into the foyer. Her hands move up to my face as she
passionately returns the kiss. I remember these lips. These soft,
full lips that used to kiss me with such fiery intensity. I scoop
her up and carry over her to the sofa setting her down, my body
eagerly following as I climb on top of her, forcing her to lie
back, our lips never leaving one another’s…

My hand finds its way to her thigh and
begins to move slowly up her side as she tears my shirt open and
slides it down my arms. Feeling every contour of her body only
fuels my lust, and I begin to pop open the buttons down the side of
her dress—one by one.

As my erection grows and our kisses become
more heated, I realize suddenly who is beneath me. In my alcohol
induced haze, I forgot for one brief moment and got carried away.
What the fuck am I doing with the cheating whore? Getting laid
after a way too long dry spell, that’s what. “Just go with it
asshole,” I tell myself. “Just go with it…”

As she mutters my name in-between heavy
breaths, she blathers out of her lying, cheating, whorish mouth,
“Donovan, I missed you so much.”

Suddenly, I jump off of her like I was about
to contract the plague. The plague of the cheating ex. “No…NO! You
need to leave, Dani.” I take her by her arm, pulling her from my
couch and lead her to the elevator.

“But Donovan. I thought…” she whines as she
fumbles with the buttons on the side of her dress.

“You thought wrong. This is never going to
happen, got it?” I press the button for the elevator and pray that
it comes quickly.

“You’re just drunk. Stop being like this and
let’s finish what we came here to do.” She pleads, begs, and whines
some more.

“You finished anything and everything that
we would ever do together a long time ago.” The doors open, and I
take her by her arm again, helping her inside. “And you’re right. I
am a little drunk, or this would have never happened.” As the
elevator doors begin to close, cutting off her response, I give her
a wink and a sarcastic farewell. “Please, remain a stranger this
time. Ciao, Dani.” 

So, I turned down sex with the cheating
whore, but at least I still have my dignity intact. And yes, it is
time for yet another cold shower. But this is more of a victory
shower. Getting laid will never be worth having to deal with that.
Danielle is now just another bad memory from my past. Another hard
lesson learned. But this lesson I will gladly take.

Now, time for that shower.

Chapter Seven

~ The Wedding, part one ~

I wake up the next morning with a slight
hangover, visions of stupidity dance in my foggy head. Sadly, last
night haunts me with the scent of the cheating whore’s perfume
still polluting the air of my penthouse. I’m not too sure that even
a good fumigating will rid my place of this scent, but I call for
maid service hoping for a miracle.

Wanting to spare my nose from any further
punishment, I dress quickly in gray slacks and a black button-down
shirt and leave my polluted penthouse. I take the elevator down to
the lobby and head straight for the reception area. I see that I
have a voicemail on my cell and listen to it as I walk. There is a
message from Lizzy, my hairstylist, and it’s bad news. At least
this small emergency will divert my attention from last night. I
know…I’m a fucking idiot. Moving on.

It’s a quiet Wednesday morning, as
Wednesdays usually are. Most tourists come for a long weekend, so
that leaves the middle of the week on the slower side. I see the
girls, Lily, Sarabeth and Dawn, gathered at the check-in desk, no
doubt talking about my head chef, Lily’s upcoming wedding, which
takes place here this Saturday.

Lily has been working for
me for about seven years now.  She moved here with her family
from the U.K. when she was a teenager, settling for many years
in Florida. She eventually decided to go out on her own, and after
completing culinary school, she moved here to Malibu and came to
work for me at La Fuga.  She and I have spent many nights
staying up late drinking at The Underground, telling stories.
 And trust me when I say, she has some pretty good ones. I am
sad to report that most of them involve her fiancé, Christopher,
and their sex life.  But, I digress. I have some bad news to
deliver.

“Doesn’t anybody ever work around here
anymore?” I try to use my angry boss tone, but the girls know me
all too well, and we all begin to laugh at what an ass I can be
sometimes.

“Lily, how is everything coming along for
Saturday?” She lights up as she tries to answer, but all of the
girls chime in, explaining just how everything is coming along down
to the very last detail. Every last excruciating detail. Lily’s
barely getting a word in edgewise. I glance her way, rolling my
eyes at the others blathering on and on.

“Thank you, girls. And now that I know
everything down to the color of all of the bridesmaids’ panties, I
can breathe a sigh of relief.” I shake my head as I laugh. Yes, I
tease them, but they are really a great group of girls and we have
a lot of fun together. “Lily, come with me for a moment will you?
As for the rest of you, get back to work.” I can hear the girls
giggling as they sarcastically respond with “Yes sir.”

I lead Lily through the lobby and down the
corridor to my office. As we pass through the reception area that
leads to my office, I am quickly reminded that my assistant,
Patrice, has the week off. “Do you want coffee, Lily?”

“No thanks, Donovan. I’m good.” We enter my
office and as I take a seat behind my desk, she sits in the chair
just in front of it. “What did you need to see me about?”

“I didn’t want to mention this in front of
the girls, but we have a slight problem. Lizzy broke her leg
yesterday, so she won’t be available to do hair and make-up for
your wedding.” And, as expected, she begins to tear up. “Can’t you
girls just do each others’ hair and makeup?” I ask, like the
clueless wonder I am when it comes to weddings.

“No Donovan, we can’t. Oh my god, this is a
disaster! There’s no way we’ll ever find anyone else in three
days!” She is actually in full-blown tears at this point. I hand
her a box of Kleenex and am now extremely thankful that I didn’t
ask the others to come along, or there would be three girls in here
losing it right now. They don’t make enough tissue for this sort of
thing.

“No, this is a small bump in the road, Lily.
Do you know of someone or shall I make some calls?” She doesn’t
answer, instead she continues to shake her head and cry.

“I’ll take that as a no.” Christ. What is it
with women and their hair? How hard can this be? Put it up, slap on
some make-up and get your ass down the aisle.

But I can see by Lily’s reaction that there
won’t be any moving on. So, being the great friend/boss that I am,
I make a call to Kacie, my hotel manager and good friend Matt’s
wife, to ask her if she knows of anyone. She gives me the name and
number of her stylist, Mauricio, explaining that he is usually
booked well in advance and may not be available on such short
notice. I thank her and hang up, quickly calling the number, hoping
for a miracle. Meanwhile Lily is still crying. Bloody hell.

“Thank you for calling Mauricio’s. This is
Mauricio speaking.” The voice on the other end of the phone is a
lispy feminine sort of voice.

“Hello Mauricio, my name is Donovan Hart. I
got your number from Kacie Reynolds, a client of yours. I have a
slight emergency and I wonder if you might be able to help.” I hear
loud music and talking in the background and I seem to be “on hold”
yet he never seems to fill me in on that. “Hello?” I become
impatient as a few moments pass, no response from him yet. I am now
thrumming my fingers on the desk and would have hung up by now, but
this is for Lily. So I wait.

“Did you say Donovan Hart?” He seems excited
to hear my name. I am rather well known in the community, but I
didn’t know that included hairstylists…

“I did. Is this a bad time?” Thankfully Lily
is now somewhat calmed down and listening in.

“For you, Mr. Hart? No. What can I do for
you?”

“I realize that this is a long shot, but an
employee of mine is getting married this coming Saturday, and the
stylist we had booked unfortunately broke her leg. So, as you see…”
He cuts off my sentence and shouts across the room to whom I can
only guess is the receptionist.

“Crystal, when you’re done eating your
lunch, clear all of my appointments for Saturday…That’s what I
said…Just do it!” Now I can barely hear. The voices have become
muffled. There is shouting, and I hear something about him being
booked with clients all day. Followed by more shouting.

“Mr. Hart, just say when and where and I’ll
be there.” I nod at Lily, and she immediately rises from her chair
and begins to do some sort of crazy happy dance. I am extremely
sorry that I had to witness that. Damn.

“Thank you, Mauricio. You have no idea how
happy you’ve just made the bride.” And Lily uncharacteristically
shouts “Thank you!” in the background, and I motion for her to sit
down as I put my finger to my lips to shush her. “If you could be
at La Fuga around eleven, that would be great.”