Chapter 22

It had been a stupid, stupid thing to do.

She’d been one hundred percent behind the idea, right up until the security arrived. They were, without a doubt, thorough in their apprehension of the group of women, including more than thorough pat downs that had left Mya feeling humiliated and violated.

She let her hair fall down in front of her face as she was escorted past the curious onlookers and bright lights of the press, keeping her mouth firmly closed, even when a microphone was shoved in her face.

At this point she had a certain amount of deniability, she hoped. If she did, as most of the other girls were doing, make a comment to the cameras, she’d be kissing her bright and shiny future good bye, if she hadn’t already she thought grimly as she allowed herself to be shoved, rather roughly, into the back of a waiting cruiser and ended up nearly in Cassidy’s lap. She managed, just, to right herself with a struggle, considering her hands had been cuffed behind her back.

“You okay My?” Cass asked, but all Mya could do was shake her head, terrified that if she opened her mouth that all that would come out would be uncontrollable sobbing.

It had been a stupid, stupid thing to do.

She felt Cass’s head on her shoulder and had to smile. As if she was the one to lean on now when what she wanted was for someone to hold her and tell her that what she’d just done hadn’t really been suicide, because it sure as hell felt like it.

First and foremost, she’d promised her mother when she’d moved half way across the continent and started stripping that there would never, ever be any photos that would make their way out into the world of mama’s baby girl that would make her feel ashamed.

Her father was going to kill her, if he ever even spoke to her again.

Then, of course, there were her new employers. She could pretty much kiss off that job, Mya thought as the cruiser made its way across the Mellon Arena parking lot and out onto the street. She’d told them about her job of course. Full disclosure seemed pretty important considering she was going to be on air. She’d shown them the head shots and ‘glamour shots’ that didn’t show too much and they seemed to be fine with it. In fact, they were quite enthusiastic about it. They thought it would play well with their target market, mostly men.

Topless on TV...Mya was pretty certain they’d consider that crossing the line.
Sidney obviously had.

She could still see him, pinching the bridge of his nose as he looked away from the screen. An obvious sign of agitation but disappointment too, Mya thought as the police cruiser hit a pot hole that sent her head crashing painfully against the plastic barrier behind the officers sitting up front who didn’t so much as look back to see if she was injured.

A little bump on the head was the least of her worries though.

She shouldn’t care, she told herself, but she did. She cared what he thought, quite a bit it seemed. She cared about him, deeply and profoundly, but she was still angry. There was no doubt about that, she decided as she imagined him shaving and showering and getting ready for his big, fancy party. The least he could have done was tell her about the party instead of hiding it from her.

It just seemed like every time they took a step forward, they took ten backwards.
And yet, even though she was angry and felt she had every right in the world to be angry, more than anything it just hurt. Hurt that he didn’t think she was good enough to take to his little soiree, especially since all of his damn teammates knew exactly who she was and what she did already.

But then those infamous words kept coming back to her over and over again, haunting her as she sat and ground her teeth together. If you give away the milk for free.... Not that she wanted to believe that of him, not after all the things he’d said but...was there any other explanation for his behaviour towards her? That she was nothing but a notch on his bedpost. A booty call.

She didn’t want to believe it, but what else was she supposed to think?
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Tucking his wallet back into his jacket Sidney waited while the guard fiddled with his keys before, apparently, finding the right one and pushing the door open with a clang that made him flinch and echoed loudly down the hallway. His bank manager was going to have a field day explaining the expense of bailing out half a dozen strippers, but at least Mario had grudgingly agreed to drop all the charges on behalf of the club, after a lot of pleading on Sidney’s part. The worst they’d face was mischief charges now, the police chief had promised.

All except Mya, whose fine was already paid and against whom all charges had already been dropped. Sometimes it was good to be able to grease the wheels with a few autographs and a signed jersey to be raffled off for the Police Charity Fund.
“Now remember, this isn’t where the conjugal visits happen,” the guard grinned at him, winking like he knew something. Sidney grudgingly smiled back at him but he knew that the reception he was likely to get would probably be, at the best, on the chilly side.

Sidney walked past the other cells and ignored the comments about his Penguin suit and the insinuations about exactly whose date he was for the evening. He found Mya alone in the last cell, sitting on a metal bench, rubbing her wrists, her head down, dark hair falling around her face. Even though her expression was hidden behind her hair, there was not even a hint of the cockiness or gloating that he’d expected to find.

In fact, seeing the red rings around her wrists where the cuffs had rubbed her raw and the way she was perched on the edge of the uncomfortable looking metal bunch, surrounded by institutional grey walls covered in old dried up gum and graffiti with only a metal toilet screwed to the wall for company, all of the angry words he’d planned on using fled his mind.

“Ready to go?” he asked instead as the barred door slid open and he stepped inside. Mya looked up at him, surprise registering on her face before, like a chalk board being wiped clean, her expression quickly changed to a blank slate.

“You paid my bail?” she asked quietly, her gaze slowly sweeping over him, obviously taking in the tuxedo, his gleaming shoes and deep crimson bow tie.

“Yours and all the other girls too,” he replied, offering her a hand up which she glanced at but didn’t take.

“I’ll pay you back, somehow,” she responded, biting down on her bottom lip before turning her attention back to the floor. Sidney resisted the urge to wrap his arms around her and tell her that everything was going to be okay. He didn’t know if he could make that promise and he wasn’t willing to let down his guard, not just yet. They had things to talk about before that could happen, serious things.

“I don’t need you to pay me back. I just need you tell me why? I thought we were cool. I thought we were clear on what happened in that press conference. I thought you understood.” She looked up at him, dark smudges beneath her eyes, her mouth set in a thin, impatient line.

“Who are you taking? To your fancy Christmas party? Is she waiting out in the car?” Sidney opened his mouth to ask her if she was serious, and then decided against it. If she knew about the party he couldn’t exactly blame her for assuming some darker motive for his not telling her about it. A lie was a lie, even if it was one of omission.

“If by date you mean Mario and Natalie, then yeah,” he replied, doing his best not to smile, not to belittle her obviously hurt feelings. “Even with a few bank accounts I could only take out so much cash out of the ATM, it being sort of the middle of the night and all, so I’ll be paying them back for at least half of the bail for you and friends.” He watched the flame of accusation flicker and die in her eyes, quickly replaced by the kind of look that a dog gets in its eyes when it doesn’t know if it can trust you. “There isn’t some other girl out there, but the only way you’re going to know that is to put this on and come with me.” He dragged the garment bag he’d brought with him from off of his shoulder and held it towards her. “We can talk in the car, I’ll wait outside for you.”
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Reluctantly Mya made herself stand and take the garment bag from his hand, shivering as her hand brushed his. His hazel eyes searched hers’, and then he turned and walked out into the corridor. She listened to the sound of his shoes on the concrete floor, the catcalls and wolf whistles that followed him and then the utter silence that followed.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Mya turned to hang the garment bag from the bars and tugged the zipper down, revealing a slash of deep crimson velvet. Running her fingers over the soft fabric, she felt her heart skip a beat. Unless this was a Santa Claus costume, then he’d bought her a dress, which meant he’d planned on taking her, and that meant she’d been stupid for no reason at all. Tears sprang to her eyes and Mya angrily wiped them away with the back of her hand.

Putting aside the fear of facing him, and anyone else for that matter, she gently lifted the dress out of the bag and smoothed it down with the flat of her hand. Dark red velvet, floor length and strapless, classic holiday attire and the right size to boot she thought as she ran her hand over the structured bodice and down over the crystals that emphasized the empire waist, simple and classy.

Mya looked down at what remained of her outfit, now stained and torn from having been dragged and pushed and prodded and then sitting in the same bench that was sticky and stained by things she didn’t even want to consider. She’d managed to wipe most of the paint off with the rough paper towels they’d given her to clean up with but she tried again, running her hands under the icy water that came from the tap, tossing aside her ruined costume and rubbing at her skin until it glowed red but clean.

Generally speaking she liked the look of a man in a well tailored suit. Not Sid, she thought, as she peered in the rusty mirror affixed to the concrete block wall above the tiny sink. He looked more like a kid playing dress up, with pant legs that were too wide and too long, a jacket that was too big everywhere, as if he’d taken his father’s suit out of the closet and put it on. She liked him much better in jeans and a t-shirt, she decided as she took the dress gingerly off the hanger, careful not to let it touch the ground as she stepped into it.

It was a good thing she was flexible, she thought as fought to pull up the zipper, sucking in her stomach and holding her breath as she slowly pulled it up.

The dress fit like a second skin. It hugged her curves, holding the girls up firm and high, before falling softly around her hips before it opened up again in scandalously high slits on each side. The tops of her garters showed, unless she wanted to go without. She was mentally counting how many days it had been since she’d waxed s she went to stuff what remained of her police costume into the garment bag, only to find a shoe box sitting at the bottom of the bag.

Mya reached in and pulled out the box, placing it down on the bench as she ran her fingers over the slightly raised signature on the box. Christian Louboutin. Whatever was inside had probably cost more than the dress.

Taking off the lid, Mya let out a dreamy sigh. Chiffon Ambrosina pumps with at least four inch heels, the same deep scarlet of the dress. She ran her fingers over them and felt the weight in her stomach double. They would be tight. Italian shoes always were, but god they were worth it. Was she?

Mya unzipped her boots and carefully transferred her feet from one shoe to the other, doing her best not to touch the floor for more than a second and then stood and admired her feet for a moment before picking up her boots, zipping up the garment bag and heading down the hall. She wished there was time to do something about her hair, but with no tools, no curling iron, not even comb on her person, whatever she looked like now, would have to do.

She ignored the cat calls and suggestive comments. Her mind was already racing ahead as she tried to anticipate what Sidney was likely to say.

Would he break up with her? For good this time?

She wouldn’t blame him if he did, although seemed more likely that if that had been his intention he would have left her and all of the other girls to cool their heels in the holding cell for the night. It’s probably what she would have done had she been in his place.

This was beginning to be a bit of a pattern for them, her pushing him away, him chasing her. One of these days he wasn’t going to even try.
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“Are you sure this is wise?” Mario asked as he leaned against the door of the Escalade, watching his charge pace the sidewalk in front of the police station.

“Of course it’s not, but he’s in love. I think it’s kind of sweet,” Nathalie responded, wrapping her arm through her husband’s and smiling approvingly at Sidney as he narrowed his eyes at the two of them. This was like having your parents along on a date that had gone terribly wrong.

Speaking of which...Sidney glanced at his watch. They’d have already missed dinner. If they didn’t hurry now, they wouldn’t get a chance to sit on Santa’s knee and he really wanted to ask for another Cup and some peace and quiet in his life. He’d done it last year and it had worked, and when something worked you just had to keep doing it.

“A-hem.” Sidney looked up to find a vision in red standing before him, her breasts thrust high and nearly spilling over the fitted top of the dress, her hair falling softly around her shoulders in loose dark waves and one of her shapely legs peeking out from the heavy fabric. His mouth went dry and he forgot to be angry.

“Fuck me,” he breathed, or rather didn’t breathe having forgotten to his gaze roamed over the way the soft fabric moved with her curves, reminding him, almost painfully, of what was beneath. She looked like a Christmas present, one of those ones that you get wrapped professionally, and his fingers twitched at his sides, wanting very much to unwrap this particular present. Her soft, full lips turned up at the corners and he could well imagine the sarcastic comment that danced at the tip of her tongue, but a quick glance towards his ride and she seemed to think better of it.

God, it was worse than having your parents along on a date. This was more like having your parents walk in on you 'In flagranti delicto'. The only saving grace to this particular situation was that it wasn’t, in fact his parents. Troy would never have dipped into his pocket to help his son pay for this particular date. He would have left them all to sit in the lock up overnight. Hell, he probably would have created a scene outside the bank when Sidney was withdrawing the funds.
At least he wasn’t here now. He’d have to face his father over this eventually, but until then....

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, crossing the distance between them and brushing her lips lightly over his cheek, “for everything. It was a stupid, stupid mistake. I’ve probably completely fucked myself for that job and I embarrassed you....” Sidney smiled, and shook his head.

“Are you kidding me? They’ve been playing that clip like non-stop, advertising the fact that you start on Monday. You probably couldn’t have given them a better marketing tool. As for me...,” his voice trailed away as he reached up to brush her hair back from her cheek. Damn it! Why was it so hard to breathe when he looked at her?

“Stop talking and kiss her already!” Nathalie shouted from the passenger window and Sidney felt his cheeks get warm. It wasn’t that he’d never been affectionate with a girl around them, but not like this, not with them watching like they were starring in one of those ‘telenovelas’.

“Yeah, stop talking and kiss me,” Mya repeated, grinning at him as he cradled her cheek in his hand. Sidney whet his lips as he reached to pull her closer, his hand sliding down the soft, warm fabric to the small of her back, his fingers brushing just a little lower....

“You’re not wearing any panties,” he hissed, feeling the heat rise below his collar, his bow tie seeming to choke off his air, and other things, lower things, began to fill with blood.

“With this dress, are you kidding?” she whispered against his lips. “There’s nothing on under this dress,” she added her lips brushing against the shell of his ear.

“Fuck me,” he breathed for the second time, only to hear her husky chuckle in his ear which sent a shudder straight down his spine to his cock which was now straining uncomfortably against the constraints of his tuxedo pants.

“Oh I plan to, later,” she replied, her teeth nipping at his earlobe, “just not while your boss is watching hmmm?”

“You are going to pay for what you did tonight,” he replied roughly, feeling the quick rise and fall of her breasts where they pressed against his chest, his eyes closed, trying to regain his composure before they climbed into the back seat of the SUV with Mario and Nathalie.

“Promises, promises,” she giggled, her hand slipping beneath his jacket and down, grabbing a handful of his ass and giving it a good, hard squeeze.

“Get in the car Mya,” he growled, pushing her in front of him, hard enough so that she nearly stumbled, but righted herself quickly as she made a show of rocking her hips back and forth, reminding him of what she was not wearing beneath the soft red fabric that hugged her ass, teasing him, making his blood run hot in his veins. He could hear her giggling as she climbed into the back of the truck and he knew that the only thing that was going to stop him from ravaging her in that back seat was the fact that Nathalie was sitting in the front. He was pretty sure Mario would understand.