CHAPTER 7
SHANELLE
I open my eyes startled, finding myself in a dark room, barely illuminated by the faint light of the moon filtering through the curtains. Where am I? My thoughts are confused; I can’t remember how I got here or what happened. I must have had too much to drink.
But then, I feel the warm body of a man beside me, and the memories start to return. Liam. Dancing. Drinking. Grinding against him. Flirting. I vaguely remember leaving the club and coming to a hotel, having sex with him… giving him my virginity, but everything else is a blur, as if my mind has decided to hide the events of this night from my memory. Embarrassment and confusion wash over me, unable to understand how I ended up in this situation without remembering anything.
I dress hurriedly and leave the hotel room without looking back. Guilt and uncertainty weigh heavy on my chest, tormenting me for not knowing what happened after that moment. I decide that the best thing is to forget everything, although I know it will be a difficult task.
As I exit the elevator, I pass by the reception and step out into the cold outside, still somewhat tipsy, unable to place my mind in the right location. Fortunately, there’s a line of taxis across the street, so without thinking much, I go down the steps and cross the street, getting into the first available taxi. I give the driver my home address. When I arrive at my apartment, I notice that all the lights are off, and I’m not entirely sure if Marc is home. But not wanting to risk being caught sneaking in, I carefully close the front door, take off my heels, and tiptoe to my room.
I leave my purse on my small drawing table, head to the bathroom, and undress before stepping into a hot shower, trying to wash away the feeling of regret that washes over me for not being able to remember what was supposed to be the best night of my life with an incredibly handsome man. You don’t lose your virginity every day. (I know you’ll judge me, but believe me when I say that something feels off, and I can’t remember why.)
As I wash my body with soap, I touch my vagina, realizing that there’s no trace of semen on me, which makes me assume we used protection. I breathe a sigh of relief, one less thing to worry about.
Once in the darkness of my room and tucked in bed, the silence of the night envelops me. I close my eyes tightly, wishing I could remember. Still, I promise myself that I will never allow something like this to happen again. It’s either sober sex or nothing at all.
(####)
I feel like it was just moments ago that I closed my eyes when the obnoxious sound of my cell phone rings from somewhere in my room. I curse a few times as the noise and hangover threaten to make my head explode while I get out of bed and search for my phone on the drawing table where I left it, to answer the call.
“Hello?” I answer, half-asleep.
“Sweetheart, I’m sorry for calling you so late. I just wanted to know if the penthouse will be ready for Monday. I was waiting for your confirmation yesterday, but you never called me.” My drowsy brain reacts immediately – late? I pull the phone away from my face to check the time; it’s past 10 p. m. A wave of discomfort washes over me as it seems that I’ve slept all day Saturday.
Damn! What a hangover I had. Remembering that I still have Rocco on the other end of the line, I finally speak up:
“Don’t worry, everything is perfectly fine,” I lie as I walk through the room towards my closet, pulling out clothes to wear, “the inauguration will be on Monday at 6 p. m. So you can get in touch with the owner and tell him that day he’ll have his penthouse ready.”
“Perfect, darling! See you on…” – a male voice is heard in the background on Rocco’s side – “Baby, stop bothering Shane and come back to bed with us. This woman is insatiable.” Heat rises to my neck and settles in my cheeks, even more when I hear Rocco’s wife moan, “Sorry, babe, I have to let you go. I’ll see you on Monday.” He says before hurriedly ending the call.
“See you,” I whisper into the phone, somewhat shocked by the whole situation.
Putting that aside, I hurry to get dressed. How could I have slept all afternoon! Without thinking twice, I rush to shower and get ready. I can’t let the inauguration be a failure because of me.
I leave my room and go to Marc’s room. When I open the door, I stop when I see another figure in bed with Marc – it’s the same guy from Friday. I sigh irritably. I creep up to Marc silently so as not to wake the other guy and touch his shoulder several times until he opens his eyes and I gesture for him to follow me outside. He nods, and I wait in the hallway.
“Babe?” His voice is hoarse from sleep.
“‘Babe’ nothing. How could you let me sleep so much?” I reproach him even though I know he’s not at fault.
“I saw you sleeping so peacefully that I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“Okay, okay. I need you to come to the penthouse with me. I need to clean it and get everything ready for Monday.”
“Alright, give me 2 minutes and I’ll be with you.”
“I’ll wait for you in the living room.” Marc goes back to his room, and I head to the kitchen to prepare some coffee to completely wake up the part of my brain that the shower couldn’t.
Ten minutes later, I’m standing at the kitchen island with a cup of coffee in my hands, staring into nothing when Marc appears with the guy behind him.
“Babe, this is Victor.” The guy, who doesn’t seem too much older than me, is about my height with a slim but toned body, blonde hair, and brown eyes; he looks at me shyly. Well, to hell with it.
“Shane, nice to meet you.” I extend my hand, and he takes it.
“The pleasure is all mine. I apologize for yesterday.”
“Don’t worry about it. Just find a room next time.”
“I told you, there’s nothing to worry about. Shane is great.” Marc says cheerfully. Victor looks at him reproachfully.
“Just because she’s great doesn’t mean we should take advantage of her patience.”
“Well said.” I hold up my hand for a high five, and he does it. Marc pouts, and we both laugh, “Well, if you don’t mind, I have to get going…”
“Shane, can Victor come?”
“I assumed he would,” I say as I go for another cup of coffee for Marc, “Coffee, Victor?”
“Please.” I serve the coffee and hand it to them.
“Let’s go.” We leave the apartment and head down the stairs.
“Which car?” Marc asks.
“Yours.” I respond automatically while checking the WhatsApp messages Mrs. Rosa left me. Luckily, she already chose the design she wants for her new kitchen.
I get in the passenger seat after a small argument with Victor when I offered to sit in the back.
“Do you think we can find a supermarket open?”
“Ehhh, I own one if that helps.” I turn to look at him.
“You’re my angel,” I wink.
“Hey! I thought I was.”
“You both are. I need cleaning supplies. I hope Marc told you what we’re going to do.”
“He did.”
A little while later, we’ve gotten the products we need after another failed argument with Victor about wanting to charge me for what I’m taking; we finally arrive at the building where I’m remodeling the penthouses. After greeting the guard, we take the elevator to the top floor.
As the night progresses, I realize that sometimes it’s necessary to sacrifice rest time to achieve our goals. Even though I’m exhausted, I know the effort is worth it.
Five hours later, we finish, and everything is ready. Victor has fallen asleep on the couch. Marc looks at me, and I can see the exhaustion in his eyes.
“I’ll treat you to breakfast.”
“That’s the least you can do for me, babe. I’m dead tired.”