When the Sun Goes Down Read online

  Growing slightly frustrated with him, I growl, “Did you get my info or not? You’re worse than a damn female.”

  “Yes, I did… and I’m just trying to be friendly,” he huffs before giving me what I want. “Okay, it appears Mr. Saunders is a regular at Provocateur, especially when the wifey is out of town, which according to my sources, she will be this Tuesday through Thursday. I have a contact at the club, so I can get you on the guest list for Tuesday night, if you’d like?”

  “Yes, perfect! Thank you so much!” I smile into the phone. “You’re the best.”

  “Mhmm. A minute ago I was ‘worse than a damn female’ and now I’m the best?” he jokes.

  “You know I love you and all you do for me, just like you love me and all the money I pay you to do it,” I respond sassily. “Just remember this conversation goes nowhere. I’m going to need your assistance quite a bit here in the near future.”

  “Just promise me you aren’t murdering anyone; I don’t want to be an accomplice, even if it’s unknowingly.”

  “I promise, Trav, I’m not killing anyone.” Feeling a little guilty for my stretched-truth, I add before ending the conversation, “And anytime you’d like to come over for dinner, I’d love to cook for you. I’ll see if Leo wants to come too, if you’d like?” I knew I wasn’t playing fair with that last line. It was no secret that Travis has been crushing on Leo since he had met him five years ago, and I loved to tease him about it.

  “You are evil, woman… pure evil,” he says with a chortle. “But I’ll most definitely take you up on that offer. Make sure he’s there.”

  I hang up the phone feeling a little disappointed; I was really hoping to get my hands on Danny-boy before Tuesday. I know that it’s only two days away, but I’m an instant gratification kind of girl, and thinking about what I’m going to do to that man is going to consume me for the next forty eight hours.

  I attempt to keep myself busy over the next few hours with a book but fail miserably. Finally, it’s time for me to begin my evening preparations before going out, and I can’t get in the bubble bath fast enough. Soaking in the tub, I allow the highly-powered jets to work my overly tense muscles. After about twenty minutes, I climb out, dry off, and lotion up before pulling my robe on. I head to the kitchen for my glass of wine and then back to my bedroom for the rest of the routine.

  Nearly an hour later, my make-up is on, hair is fixed, and I’m standing at the dresser choosing my lingerie. It’s Sunday, which is all white day, and no, the irony is not lost on me. I grab my lacy white push-up bra with matching panties and garter belt. As I slide the silky white stockings up my leg and connect them to the clasps, the switch flips- it’s time to make some bastard pay. I quickly throw on a white and gray plaid skirt with a fuzzy white sweater blouse and then head downstairs to meet Leo.

  Punctual as always, he waits for me with the car door open and a huge smile on his face. I take a brief moment to take in the true specimen that Leo is; he truly is like sex on a stick. I know that I’m incredibly lucky to not only have him as my driver-slash-bodyguard, but also as a dear friend that would do absolutely anything for me.

  “Good evening, Miss Kat,” he greets me pleasantly as he takes a seat behind the wheel.

  “Evening, Leo. I hope you had a nice weekend,” I reply as he looks back at me in the rearview mirror.

  “I did, thank you. Now where are we headed tonight?”

  “I dunno. Surprise me… nothing too fancy and something pretty close to the hotel,” I answer nonchalantly. I still can’t pull my thoughts from Tuesday night enough to care about making important decisions like that.

  “Is everything alright, Miss Kat?” Leo asks immediately, his voice heavy with concern. He knows that it’s very unlike me to relinquish any of the control, especially during night hours.

  “Yes, I just have a lot on my mind. I had a busy weekend.”

  He doesn’t say anything else; he just nods and drives.

  Within two hours, I’ve found some married tool that spends too much time at the gym and bars, rather than at home with his wife. I take him to the hotel where I shackle him to the bed and make him beg me to fuck him; then I leave him with a raging erection and the cuff keys just out of his reach. Driving home with Leo, I feel completely dissatisfied with the entire encounter.

  Just as he does every night, Leo escorts me into my apartment and performs the best oral sex imaginable. It takes me a little longer than usual to come tonight because my mind is still a bit preoccupied, but he is relentless and doesn’t stop until the only thing running through my mind is that it should be a sin to be able to use one’s tongue and mouth like that. Then he carries me to bed and tucks me in, kissing me on my forehead.

  “Goodnight, Leo. Thank you for taking care of me,” I mumble sleepily.

  “Yes ma’am, Miss Kat. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  And he disappears.

  It’s Monday yet again, and I really don’t want to go to work this morning. I wish they could just bus all the kids to me and let me teach them at my apartment so I wouldn’t have to deal with the adults at the school. Between inquisitive and overly caring Lauren, creepy and disturbing Principal Matthews, and can’t-get-him-out-of-my-mind Lucca, I’m not sure who I need to hide from most. Sighing heavily as I get out of my car, I hurry into the building and head straight for my classroom.

  Surprisingly, the morning classes go by quickly and without any unwanted visitors. The students have now been back a week after Spring Break, so they’ve calmed down a bit, and they’re truly enjoying the diverse music I’ve been playing for them. I like to introduce them to all different kinds of music, not just the traditional children’s songs that I find boring and outdated for the most part. In the short time that I’ve been doing this, I’m amazed at how positively the kids respond to classic musicians like The Beatles and Elvis, but if I told them who it was and how old the songs were beforehand, they wouldn’t be interested. Most of them are exposed to pop music and hip-hop on a daily basis, so hearing songs like Yellow Submarine and Blue Suede Shoes is both different and fun for them.

  At lunch, I decide not to be a complete hermit by eating in my room again, so I venture out to the teacher’s lounge. Lauren meets me in the hall with her usual chipper smile and happy-go-lucky attitude.

  “Hiya, Trina!” she says as she bounces up next to me. “How was your weekend?”

  “Hey, Lauren. It was fine. I actually got quite a bit of stuff done that I had been planning to do. How about you?”

  “It was really good!” She pauses as we enter the break room, and then picks right back up once we’re seated on the couch with our lunches. “I finally told that asshole Jason off Friday night, which felt great, and then I met a new guy at a barbeque on Saturday. I’m not really sure yet where that’s going, if anywhere, but we exchanged numbers and he texted me yesterday.”

  As I look into her smiling face, I want to scream at her that her happiness shouldn’t depend on if she’s met someone or dating, but I don’t. It’s pretty evident that I’m not the happiest person around, so what do I know really? Instead, I do what every good friend should do, and I smile back and nod my head. “That’s awesome, sweetie. I’m happy for you.”

  “Speaking of new men, where’s your fella today? I haven’t seen him hovering around you.”

  Gritting my teeth, I snap, “I don’t have a fella, Lauren. Just stop. You’re trying to make nothing into something.”

  She slurps her shake through her straw, smiling mischievously, obviously not listening to a word that I say. We both remain quiet for a few minutes. Finally breaking the silence, she asks, “Trina, do you consider us friends? Like, real friends?”

  I try to be as sincere as possible with my reply. “Lauren, you are the closest female friend that I have. That’s the truth.”

  “Then why don’t you ever want to do anything with me outside of work? If it’s because you live in a bad area or are embarrassed or something, that’s okay; I d
on’t judge. We can even meet up at like a restaurant or something if you don’t want me to see your place. It’s not like my apartment is anything to write home about.”

  Shaking my head, I’m at a loss for how to respond and I’m running out of excuses. “Lauren, it’s not that. I just don’t have a social life, nor do I want one. Those who have one invite drama into their lives that I’m not interested in. It’s the same reason I don’t date.”

  “But all you focus on is the possible negative outcomes of social relationships; you fail to account for the positives: the fun, the camaraderie, trying new things, and getting dressed up! All of that.” She tries hard to convince me, and I know that she means well. I also know that she’s such a genuinely nice person, and there truly are so few of them left in the world, that I feel guilty for ever befriending her.

  “I tell you what,” I say, against my better judgment, “I’ll meet you out for dinner and drinks one night.”

  Squealing, she hugs my neck tight, and gushes. “Oh, yay! You have no idea how happy you just made me! This is going to be so much fun! When do you want to go?”

  Without me even realizing that he had come into the room, Lucca joins us on the couch, sitting on my left side so that I’m squished in between the two of them. My heart rate increases at just the sight of him, and when the scent of his cologne hits my nose, I feel my body temperature rise as well. “And just where do you think you lovely ladies are going?”

  Lauren doesn’t even give me a second to tell him that it’s none of his business; she can hardly contain her excitement. “After nearly two years of pleading and damn-near begging, Trina has finally agreed to go out to dinner with me.”

  He looks at me with those captivatingly unique eyes and smirks. “Two years, eh? That’s quite a hold out. I hope she’s worth it, Lauren.” She laughs at his silly little joke and I really want to roll my eyes at him, but I can’t pull my gaze from his.

  “Oh, I have a feeling once I get her to lose the bun and change out of teacher attire, she’ll loosen up quite a bit.”

  Still staring at me, he responds to her, “Mhmm. Wouldn’t I love to see that? You think you could take pictures for me?”

  She’s giggling so hard that she can’t even talk, and my face is now burning hot, not just from the way he makes my insides flip around but with frustration at the two of them talking about me as if I’m not sitting right here. Unable to take it anymore, I stand up abruptly and stomp over to the sink to rinse out my container. Just as I finish drying it off, I feel him move right up behind me and I freeze; he’s completely invading my personal space. Leaning in further towards me, his warm breath tickles the sensitive skin of my neck, just below my ear, and he whispers, “I promise, you won’t hold out two years on me.” He pauses for a moment to brush his nose against my ear lobe. “Don’t fight the inevitable, Miss Foster.”

  And he disappears.

  The last forty eight hours have been absolute hell. I’m an impatient person naturally, but knowing that the plan of vengeance I’ve been dreaming about for years is finally about to be put in motion, has me on edge. I decide to go shopping on Tuesday afternoon to buy a special outfit for the night. I’ve never been to Provocateur before, it’s really not my style, but I know it’s where the pretty people go to be seen. If I want Daniel Saunders to not only notice me, but be willing to cheat on his wife with me, then I best look damn good. I’m honestly not sure if he’s the straying type or not; I wasn’t able to dig up much dirt on him, but if he likes to go out clubbing as soon as the Mrs. leaves town, I’m willing to bet he’ll be easily persuaded.

  Prior to drawing my bath, I saunter into the kitchen and pull out the bottle of 1949 Macallan Scotch Whisky from my liquor cabinet, along with a tulip-shaped glass. I’ve been waiting for the right occasion to open this beauty up, and I can’t think of a better one than tonight — not to mention, I need something to release the tension built up inside of me. I’m a ball of nervous energy and could use some liquid relaxation. After pouring a small amount of the caramel-colored liquid into the glass, I swirl it around and allow the single-malt spirit to breathe, as a film thinly coats the sides of the crystal and then slowly descends back down. I bring the glass up to my nose, inhale deeply, and then set the glass down before bringing it back to my nose to breathe in the scent again. The second and subsequent inhalations are where the true aromas and flavors are evoked. I’ve had this specific scotch only once before, and as the firm and spicy fragrances tease my senses, the memory of that day floods my mind.

  It was my college graduation and the only people that came to see me receive my diploma were Leo and his mom. My sperm donor was on his honeymoon with his new trophy wife, and I never thought for a minute that it was a coincidence she planned their wedding the same weekend of my commencement ceremony. They sent me a bottle of this Scotch instead, how incredibly thoughtful of them, right? So after Leo and Rosa left me alone that night in my apartment, I cracked open the bottle and sat around scheming of different ways I could kill the bastard. Leo, knowing me as well as he did, came back over after taking his mom home, and held me as I cried and lashed out until I finally fell asleep in his arms. When I woke up the next morning, he was still holding me tightly up against his chest. It was the first night that he ever refused to have sex with me, and it was the only night that he didn’t disappear.

  I take a small sip from the glass, drawing in just enough that the whisky teases my taste buds without overwhelming them. Finally, I swallow the liquid and find great pleasure at the burning sensation as it travels down the back of my throat and into my chest. Parting my lips slightly, the lingering afterglow that sits on my tongue is just heavenly. I close my eyes and remind myself that I need to be cool, calm, and collected if this plan is going to work. Much like drinking whisky, there are specific steps that must be taken in order for the end result to be glorifying. I open my eyes and smile, feeling relaxed and in control. Now, I’m ready.

  Bath, lotion, makeup, and hair — the same routine that I do every night, except tonight I spend a little additional time pampering myself and making sure I look absolutely perfect. Once I am one hundred percent pleased with my reflection in the mirror, I pad into my bedroom where I’ve laid out my new clothes from my shopping trip earlier in the day. It is Tuesday, which means it’s pink night, and I don’t stray from the schedule.

  First, I put on my new bra and panty set which is hot pink satin topped with a layer of black lace and lined in tiny rhinestones. The bra pushes up my naturally perky C breasts up to form the perfect amount of cleavage, and the thong and garter belt frame my toned ass impeccably. My stockings are black with hot pink bows at the top seam — in both the front and back — which adds a sprinkle of innocence and playfulness to the entire ensemble. My dress is simple yet sensual — a dark pink Dolce & Gabbana with three-quarter length sleeves, a plunging neckline, and a hem that hits about mid-thigh. It fits my body like it was made specifically for me, and I feel absolutely amazing in it. I slide my feet into my favorite black Gucci stilettos, grab my matching handbag, and head out the door.

  I grin and say hello to Andres as I walk through the lobby before greeting the waiting Leo. He blinks and swallows hard as I approach the car, and I know by his reaction that I’ve accomplished the look I was hoping for. Once we are both in the car, he turns over his shoulder and says, “Miss Kat, you are stunning tonight. I must admit that I’m reluctant to take you anywhere looking like that. It’s just not fair to the rest of the people there.”

  Smiling, I reach out and rub the back of my hand across his cheek. “Your words are too nice for a girl like me, Leo, but I appreciate the compliment. Let’s hope Mr. Daniel Saunders feels the same way.”

  “Daniel Saunders?” His face contorts with confusion.

  Leaning forward, I rest my lips on his in a gently kiss, mumbling against his mouth, “Nothing for you to worry about, just wish me luck.”

  Then, I sit back in the seat and instruct him where to go
. “Provocateur at Hotel Gansevoort. While I’m in the club, I need you to get a suite in a fake name and wait for me in there. Text me the room number.”

  He nods and acts like he’s about to say something, but thinks better of it. He spins back around, puts the transmission into drive, and pulls out into the night. Traffic is worse than usual for a Tuesday night, but I’m enjoying Leo’s music selection of a little Iron & Wine. Over half an hour later we pull into the valet parking area of the hotel, and I can feel the nerves rolling like dark thunder in my stomach. Once we are ushered out of the car and into the hotel, Leo briskly kisses my cheek and tells me that he’ll see me in just a bit.

  Entrance into the club is easy thanks to Travis. I walk past the lengthy line of hopeful partiers, straight to the doorman, and tell him my name. He doesn’t even check the list in his hand; he takes one look at me and motions for me to enter. The place is pretty crowded and the violet-hued lighting is rather dim, but I’ve spent all day staring at the face of the guy I’m searching for so that I’d be able to easily pick him out in a setting like this. Heads turn to look at me as I cross the room. I’m sure most of these people run in the same social circles and at least know who one another is; to them, I am an outsider — a threat to the women and a conquest to the men.

  As I walk towards the bar, I scan the room diligently without appearing as if I’m looking for someone. I’ve mastered this act in all of my nights out hunting for my own prey. A group of people, mostly men, sitting around one of the plush booths catches my interest. There are a few females sitting between the men, looking way too interested in what the guys are talking about to be their significant others. My eyes quickly sweep over each of the faces, but none of them are him. Just as I’m about to move my search to a different area, a guy approaches their table and bends down to whisper something in the ear of one of the girls. She laughs and scoots over on the bench to make room for him to join her. He sits down and then looks up in my direction and our eyes lock. Bingo! Target located.