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Until November (Until #1) - Page 4/38

I walk out into the cool November air. I pull out my phone and text Dad that I’ll see him tomorrow. The music is now just background noise, but I can still smell the alcohol, perfume and beer that lingers on my clothes from being inside the club. I'm almost to my car, thinking about taking Beast for a walk. I want to go before it’s too late and we have another skunk incident like we did the other night. "Yo," I hear shouted from behind me. I jump and end up dropping my purse and keys to the ground. I pick them up then look around. All the air is pushed out of my lungs. The most beautiful man I have ever seen is standing a few feet from me. He is more than a foot taller than my five feet four inch frame. His dark brown hair is cut so short that I can see his scalp. His jaw is so square that it looks like it was cut from glass. He has a couple days of stubble on it that makes me want to rub my cheek across it to see how it feels. His nose looks like it may have been broken but it does nothing to take away from the beauty of his face.

With only the light from the street lamp above us, I can’t tell his exact eye color but they look blue or light gray. His lips have a perfect cupid’s bow at the top and bottom. They’re so full, they would make my mom, the queen of lip injections, jealous.

Taking in his face, I’m completely caught off guard by the anger I see in his eyes. He is about three times my size. His arms are so large he could squash me like a bug. I can make out the definition of almost every muscle in his torso. His body is as impressive as his face and the thermal shirt he’s wearing does nothing to hide it from me…or anyone with eyes. His legs are planted shoulder-length apart. His jeans hang low on his hips and with the way he stands, I don't even think a tornado could move him. He crosses his arms over his chest while looking down at me.

I take a step back towards my car and remind myself that I need to breathe. I adjust my keys in the palm of my hand so they become a weapon. He doesn’t miss this move, judging by the flash of surprise I see cross his face.

“Hi,” I squeak out.

"Yeah, hi,” he says back in a mocking tone that catches me off guard. “You need to have an escort to your car anytime you leave the club.” He’s practically growling at me.

“Wh… Wha. What?” I ask, stuttering.

“You,” he says slowly, like I'm stupid, “need an escort anytime you leave from inside the club to your car. All the girls know this shit."

“Um…okay?” I say, still not understanding.

"It’s my boy’s job to make sure your ass is safe from the building to your car. So don’t piss me off by not doing what you’re told. And trust me, sweetheart, I don’t give a fuck if you’re fucking Big Mike. Next time, wait for one of the guys to walk you out here.”

“Who’s Big Mike?” I ask. I’ve only been in town a short while. How can rumors of me and some guy already be going around?

"Big Mike, the guy you were hanging on and calling ’Daddy!’” he says with distaste. “I don't give a fuck if you’re sleeping with the boss. He should have told you this shit himself or had the decency to walk your ass out here to your car."

Oh my God! Ewwww… Now I get it. He thinks I'm sleeping with my dad. Gross! And he's being totally rude.

“Excuse me?” I ask, narrowing my eyes, hoping that he gets the message that he should choose his next words wisely.

"What part don't you understand, sweetheart?” he says, mocking me. I'm sure at this point, my eyes are bugging out of my head and steam is coming out of my ears.

I jerk my hand out angrily in his direction. “I'm not ‘sweetheart,’ I’m November. I'm also Big Mi—”

"Don't give a fuck who you are.” He cuts me off.

“Wow, you are so flipping rude, buddy.”

"Don't care that you think that shit either."

“Who the hell do you think you are?” I ask him, hands on my hips, my voice bringing my New York attitude out in full force.

"The guy that’s waiting for you to get in your car and leave so I can go do my job instead of standing out here with you.”

“Uggggg, you are such a jerk.” I growl, feeling like I should kick him.

"November?” I hear my dad call me. I smile on the inside. This is going to be good.

“Yeah, Daddy, over here,” I yell back, exaggerating the daddy part. I look at the guy in front of me, daring him with my eyes to say something. He doesn’t, but his eyes narrow.

My dad walks towards us then sees big jerk face standing across from me. He pats him on the back while smiling. "Hey, Asher,” my dad says.

Oh my God, seriously? Asher. Why did this guy have to have a hot guy name? Why couldn’t his name be Urkel or Poindexter. I mean really, something’s just were not fair.

“I see you already met my daughter." I can't help the small giggle that climbs up my throat from the look of pure shock on the big jerk’s face. Okay, it’s safe to say that his look made me feel somewhat better. My dad looks down at me, smiling, not understanding what has gone on for the last few minutes.

“Um, yeah, Dad. He was just telling me that I need an escort when leaving the club,” I say through my laugh.

"Oh," my dad says, scratching his head. “Yeah, I didn't think about it because you’re not… Ugh, you don’t work here… I mean, you work here but not really in here.”

“Dad, it’s okay. Asher didn’t know and just wanted to make sure I was safe.”

"Yeah, okay,” he says, looking a little sheepish. “Anyways, Asher, this is my baby girl, November,” he says, pulling me into his side. “She just moved here.”

I look from my dad’s smiling face to Asher and he still looks stunned but there's also something else working behind his eyes.

“Hi,” I say, sticking out my hand with a big smile on my face. When he puts his hand to mine, I feel a jolt go from our connection straight through my body. What the heck is that?

"November,” he says softly, looking down at our hands and it makes me wonder if he felt it too. Then, without another word or look, he turns around and walks back towards the club. Well, alrighty then. He might be hot but he’s definitely strange. I look at my dad and he’s watching him go.

"Um… Hey, Dad, I'm gonna go,” I say, regaining his attention.

"What?” he says, looking at me.

“I'm leaving.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course, honey. I’ll see you tomorrow at home." He bends, kissing my forehead. When I pull out of the parking lot, I can see a tall figure leaning against the door that leads into the club, watching my car leave. My pulse starts to race, wondering if that’s Asher. Then, I remind myself that he’s a jerk and not to think about him anymore. Sadly, I don’t stop thinking about him until my head hits my pillow and I'm dead to the world.

Chapter 2

“I'm coming, I'm coming. Geez, you have to slow down, boy. My boots are too high for running,” I say, following Beast to my car.

The minute I asked him if he wanted to go for a ride, he was running out of the house, dragging me behind him. Today is the day we visit the nursing home, and I swear he knows exactly where we’re going. We have been doing this every week since we came to town.

Beast loves the attention and the elderly love Beast. It's been six days—not that I’m counting—since I last saw Asher. I wanted to ask my dad about him but I chickened out. Really, I just want to see him again. I don’t really want to talk to him because, truthfully, he’s a jerk. But I do want to look at him. He has made me consider taking an art class. Maybe something like body sculpting or painting. It’s not normal for a guy to be that beautiful. Now I sound like a weird stalker. Like that movie where the guy puts the girls in the hole and forces them to eat so he can wear their skin. Okay, I'm not that creepy, thank God. I need to stop. Maybe he brainwashed me. I need a hobby.

The last few days have been uneventful. Monday, me and Grandma went up to Nashville and got new computers. One is for my dad’s home office and one is for the club. Tuesday, I went to the club at seven in the morning so I would have plenty of time to get the computer set up and to start organizing the office.

I don't know what I thought I would find, but there were no lap dance spread sheets or pole dancing tables. It was all normal office paperwork. Spending reports, payroll, and ordering sheets. I finished as much as I could before I had to leave at three. The next few days went the same. I was at the office till three, making dinner with my dad before he went to work, walking Beast in the evening, then setting up my dad’s home office before I went to bed at night.

I am getting settled. I feel more at home here in Tennessee than I ever felt in New York. Everyone in town was nice. They always have a smile for you. The thing I had to get used to was everyone waving at you when you pass them on the road. At first, it caught me off guard. Then I asked my dad about it and he said it’s just what they do. Now every time I pass someone, I make sure to wave. Okay, okay, my wave may be a little dramatic but I like it and it makes me smile.

“Alright, boy. Let’s go inside,” I say as I turn off the car. The nursing home we visit is a long brick building. The front sits on a hill of green grass with large pine trees that give shade to sitting areas located all around the building.

"Hi, Beth," I say quietly while giggling. Beth is in charge of greeting people as they come into the building. At least she should be greeting people but she's always asleep in her wheelchair with her chin tucked to her chest and her blue hair is the only thing you can see.

“Damn.” I sigh to myself. Now I want some cotton candy. Every time I see her hair, I get a craving for the stuff. I look down at Beast and his head comes up. “Looks like we're gonna be making a stop at the store on our way home, boy.” I should have bought more than one pack of cotton candy the last time I was there. He looks at me and tilts his head.

“Okay, boy. First stop is Max so you better be on your best behavior,” I tell him, walking into Max’s room. Billie Holiday is playing on an old record player and Max is sitting in his chair with the newspaper in front of him.

“Hi, Max. I brought Beast here to see you,” I say loudly, knowing that he never remembers to put in his hearing aid.

"Well, hello there, pretty lady. How are you today?" he shouts at me.

“I'm good. How are you?” I ask, bending to give his wrinkled cheek a kiss. I find his hearing aid in a small bowl by his bed and hand it to him. He shakes his head and puts it in.

"Well, gotta say that my day just got better.” He smiles. “Hey, Beast. How are you, boy?” he asks as Beast places his head in his lap for a rub. “Betsy was in here earlier bugging me about going to the dance tonight. I keep telling her that I'm not interested but she won't leave me alone. She’s already stopped by four times," he grumbles.

I laugh. Betsy is one of the older ladies here and has more energy than I do. She’s always on the hunt for a new man. “Aw, Max, you should go. You might have fun. I hear the band that's coming is really good.”



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