The Night Off (23 page)

“I lied, okay?” Shouting now, Colleen spat her words like bullets. “I was going to spend the night with a friend instead. But it didn’t work out, so I came home. I wasn’t unsafe, I’m not drunk or high, and the rest of it isn’t any of your business. So just drop it.”

“A boyfriend?” As far as she knew, Colleen wasn’t dating anyone. Meeting a boy for casual sex was definitely something Colleen would lie about. “What friend?”

“I’m not talking about it.” Colleen threaded her fingers through her hair, staring at the floor. “You have no right to judge me.
None
.”

“I’m not ‘judging’ you. I’m trying to figure out why you aren’t where you told me you were going to be.”

“Who cares? I’m not. Get over it.”

Emily’s frustration threatened to boil over at Colleen’s indignant tone. “
Enough
with the attitude.”

“No,
enough
with acting like my mother!” Colleen’s voice rose to an ear-shattering volume. “You’re
not
my mother! Okay? I don’t
have
a fucking mother. So give it a rest.” She leapt to her feet and stalked over to Emily, shoving her shoulder with one hand. “What I
have
is a sister who lets a scary butch dyke treat her like a punching bag.” Emily stumbled as Colleen shoved her again, knocking her against the doorframe. “You like that? Does this get you hot?”

Emily grabbed Colleen’s wrist tightly. “Stop it.”

“Get out of my room!” Colleen screamed in her face, taking her breath away with the intensity of her anger. “It makes me sick to look at you. So get the fuck away from me!” With that, she grabbed Emily by the shirt and forced her backward, out the door.

Emily nearly fell but regained her balance quickly, whirling to stare at Colleen in disbelief. “You’re grounded.”

Colleen laughed. “You’re
delusional
.” She slammed the door in Emily’s face.

Stunned, she stared at the painted surface that separated her from the little girl she’d raised, who now looked at her like she was a stranger. All because she’d invited a woman over for sex. Kinky sex. Shame swept through her, quickening her escape back to her own bedroom. She went straight into the bathroom and turned on the shower, eager to wash away the night.

She’d never felt so dirty in her life.

After leaving Emily’s apartment, Nat drove straight to Bridget’s place without even thinking about what she was doing. She was parked in her driveway before it occurred to her that Bridget could very well be working. Her schedule was a lot busier than Nat’s these days. The thought that Bridget might not be home threatened to shatter what little composure she had left. She dug her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed with a shaking hand.

Bridget answered on the second ring. “Hey, stud. Shouldn’t you be making sweet love with the elusive Emily?”

She refused to cry over the phone, no matter how badly her eyes stung and her throat burned. “Yeah, that didn’t work out. Are you busy?”

“Not unless watching reality TV reruns with a tub of ice cream counts as being busy.” Despite the light-hearted comment, Bridget sounded concerned. “Is everything okay?”

“No, not really. Can I come inside?” Nat got out of the car without waiting for an answer. She knew what Bridget would say.

“You’re here? Of course.” Bridget opened the front door as Nat walked up onto the porch. They hung up and Bridget greeted her with a tight hug. “What happened?”

Kissing the top of Bridget’s head, Nat said, “Do you mind if we sit down?”

“Of course not.”

Nat squeezed and released Bridget, then walked into her living room and collapsed on the couch. Eager for comfort, she rested her head on Bridget’s lap as soon as she sat down. The immediate, gentle touch of soft fingers on her scalp loosened Nat’s control and unleashed the tears that had been threatening to fall since she left Emily.

“Did you guys break up?” Bridget spoke cautiously, as though she feared having her question answered. “Talk to me, Nattie. Please.”

Warmed by the silly nickname, Nat said, “I’m not sure we can break up when we’re not actually in a relationship.”

“Did you have a fight?”

Nat shook her head. Her vision blurred as tears finally forced their way to the front. “Remember I told you how I moved in with my best friend’s family for a few months after I left home?”

“Sure. Until your friend’s mother walked in on you going down on her daughter and kicked you out.” Bridget bent and kissed her temple. “A twist of fate that eventually led you to me, by the way.”

Right now she couldn’t look back at that experience with any sort of fondness. Because of that day, being caught by Tracey’s mother, she’d ended up out on the street selling her body to men in order to survive. It had been the single most devastating experience of her young life, even worse than the epic fight with her father that left her homeless in the first place. Tonight’s confrontation with Colleen had been no less terrifying.

“Until tonight, that was the most mortified I’ve ever been.” Nat paused, willing her voice to stop wavering. She sounded so very small and weak—like the teenager she’d been. She was stronger now. This wasn’t the same situation at all. “Emily’s younger sister came home unexpectedly and interrupted us.”

Bridget made a quiet, sympathetic noise. “Embarrassing, but I’m sure she’ll get over it. You said she’s eighteen, right?”

“It wasn’t like she just caught me going down on her sister, though. She thought I was attacking Emily. She heard the tail end of a pretty hard spanking, including some tears.” Nat let her own tears flow, too exhausted to hold them back anymore. It wasn’t like Bridget would judge her, and her chest felt like it would explode if she didn’t let some of her agony out. “It all happened so fast. I’ve got my fingers inside Emily, and she’s staring at me like she honest-to-God loves me, tears streaming down her face, when Colleen busts in with a big-ass knife, ready to kill.”

“Oh, no.”

“So of course immediately I flashed back to that day at Tracey’s house, the way her mother looked at me…” Nat pulled her knees to her chest, shivering. “But tonight was even worse. Emily’s sister thinks I’m a sick freak who gets off on hurting women, and she’s disgusted with Emily for ‘going along with my perversion.’ I have
no
idea what Emily is thinking right now, except that it was a mistake to invite me over tonight.”

By this point Nat was struggling to enunciate through her rising sobs. She wasn’t a crier. It simply didn’t happen. But the thought that Emily might call off whatever it was that they were doing—which seemed like a real possibility now that Colleen hated her—flooded her with a soul-crushing sadness that made it impossible to pretend she wasn’t dying inside.

“Sweetie, breathe.” Bridget slipped her hand under Nat’s shirt, rubbing along her spine. “What did Emily say before you left? Did you have a chance to talk?”

“She said she’d call me.” Cringing at how pathetic she sounded, Nat rolled over and buried her face in Bridget’s stomach. “I guess we’ll see.”

Bridget sighed, stroking her side with one hand, her head with the other. “That doesn’t mean it’s over.”

Nat took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. This was ridiculous, crying over something that hadn’t actually happened yet. And even if it did happen, it would hardly be the worst thing she had ever faced. Her childhood had been nothing but misery—resented by her father from the time she was born, beaten, hated, and finally thrown out. Then losing Tracey, cast out onto the streets to fuck old men, unfaithful husbands, and creeps who weren’t interested in having sex with someone they had to view as a fellow human being, all so she could put food in her belly—
that
was real trauma. Losing a woman she’d known mere weeks? In the overall picture of her fucked-up life, having Emily dump her should register somewhere near the bottom of her list of soul-destroying moments.

Yet she had never felt this level of despair. She ached inside.

“Give her a few days to smooth things over with her sister. Everything will seem less overwhelming once everyone has a chance to sleep on it.” Bridget tickled the back of her neck. “Don’t you think?”

“I hope so.” Nat used the corner of Bridget’s shirt to dry her tears, then sat up and shook off her despair. Bridget was right—this would take time to sort out. Getting weepy wouldn’t change anything. Determined to focus on more positive thoughts, she said, “I have a job interview on Tuesday. For a sous-chef position at a client’s restaurant.”

“What? That’s amazing.”

She needed to work on her confidence if she really intended to pursue a new career, so she threw back her shoulders and fought the urge to play off the interview as a lark. Doing well was more important than ever after tonight. Given Colleen’s venomous labeling of Emily as a “whore,” Nat doubted that her current career would help change the poor first impression she’d made. “If I get an offer, I’m going to quit escorting. At least while I see how it goes.”

“This is so exciting.” Bridget clasped Nat’s hand between her own. “I know how nervous you are, whether or not you show it, but I believe in you. And whether or not you get this job, I’m proud of you. I’m sure Emily is proud of you, too.”

“I haven’t told her yet.”

“Why not?”

Shrugging, Nat said, “I don’t want her to think I’m doing it because of her. Also, I didn’t want to tell her and then not get the job. That would be embarrassing.” And as much as she was trying not to worry about the worst-case scenario after tonight, she couldn’t ignore reality. “Besides, it may not matter what she thinks anymore.”

“Regardless of what happens with Emily, this is a great thing. It’s been a long time coming.” Bridget tickled her wrist, coaxing out a reluctant smile. “If your dance card is open, I’d love to take you out to celebrate afterward. We can do whatever you want.”

As low as she felt at that moment, Nat couldn’t imagine celebrating anything. But she nodded anyway, grateful for Bridget’s enthusiasm. “It’s a date.”

“Excellent.” Patting her thigh, Bridget beamed in an obvious effort to lift her mood. Even if it didn’t exactly work, Nat loved her for trying. “Do you want to spend the night?”

“Would that be okay?” If she went home to her empty apartment, she’d stay awake for hours staring at her phone, willing it to ring. Emily wouldn’t call. Not tonight, at least.

“Silly question.” Bridget waved her hand in the direction of her bedroom. “If you want to take a shower, I’ve got a pair of your boxers in my underwear drawer. I have
no
idea how that happened, by the way.”

“You’re my safe haven. Seems only right to store a change of underwear here.”

Bridget giggled. “I guess so.” She grabbed Nat’s hand as she stood to take her up on the offer. “Nattie?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re a catch and Emily would be lucky to have you. If she doesn’t realize that, it’s her loss.” Bridget stroked her thumb over the side of Nat’s hand. “Even if it doesn’t happen with her, you
will
find someone who sees how special you are.”

Touched by the sentiment even if it failed to ease her pain over the prospect of losing Emily, she kissed the crown of Bridget’s head. “You know I love you, right?”

Bridget grinned. “Of course I do. Just like you know I love you back.” She swatted Nat on the rear. “Now go take a shower. We’ve got some bad TV to watch.”

Emily didn’t call that weekend. Or text. By the time Monday evening rolled around, Nat was so paralyzed with missing her she could do nothing except sit on the couch and stare blankly at the television with her phone clutched in her hand. Her interview with Deb and Armando was tomorrow morning and she really should be practicing knife skills or preparing somehow, but she couldn’t think about anything but what it meant that Emily hadn’t contacted her yet.

Things with Colleen must still be bad. Colleen had been so full of anger that night, her revulsion for Nat palpable and terrifying. She knew Colleen always came first for Emily, so the fact that she hated Nat so badly made it hard to imagine a happy ending. She didn’t believe Emily would choose to alienate Colleen so she could pursue a relationship with the sex worker she’d just met. Emily’s devotion to her sister was one of the things Nat loved most about her, so she couldn’t fault Emily for her priorities.

“But she
is
eighteen. And she’ll be living her own life soon.” Nat spoke to the phone in her hand, as though Emily were on the other end. “What will you have then, Em?”

Her phone remained silent. Emily wasn’t going to call.

“
Fuck
.” Nat set it on the couch cushion and dropped her head into her hands. It hurt to be apart from Emily. Didn’t Emily feel it, too? “Obviously not,” she said.

Normally she would force herself to hang back and wait for Emily to make the first move. Tonight it wasn’t so easy to play it cool. She was nervous about tomorrow, and although Bridget had spent the weekend offering steady encouragement, what she really wanted was the simple reassurance of hearing Emily’s voice. She glanced at her cable box. It was ten o’clock, when they’d normally talk.

Knowing she might be making a mistake, she dialed Emily’s number and held her breath as her phone rang. Her heart beat so hard she could feel it thrumming in her chest, and her stomach turned over in anticipation. Emily picked up just as she decided that she would have to leave a voice mail.

“Hey.”

Nat sat up, ramrod tense. Now that Emily had answered, she almost wished she hadn’t decided to call. “Hey. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called like this.”

“No, it’s fine.”

Emily spoke in a near-whisper, so it was difficult to discern her tone. Nat wasn’t sure whether she was pleased or upset by her decision to call, which made her confused about how to proceed, or even what to say. She decided to stay as neutral as possible until Emily gave her more to go on. “How are you?”

Emily sniffled. “I really miss you.” She made a small, sad noise, then fell silent.

Nat could feel Emily struggling not to say more. “I miss you, too. I figured you’d call when things had cooled down a bit, but I can’t stop worrying about you.”
About us
, too, but Nat left that part unspoken. “I wanted to check in and make sure you’re okay.” Nat hesitated. “And that Colleen is okay.”