PAPER VOWS Novel Chapter 1

Chapter 1

“Refill?” The barman asks politely. I give him a thumbs up, not even looking at the person who just spoke to me. I know his voice – I know that he is the one who has been serving me the whole night. I have been at 4th Street Club since nine pm, now it’s almost one am. I still want that refill. I don’t care that it’s a Wednesday night or should I say Thursday morning, since it’s after midnight. It doesn’t matter if it’s morning or if it’s in the middle of the week. It’s not like I have a job to go to in the morning.

I also don’t care that this is my ninth glass of Margarita – don’t get me started on the trips I have made to the bathroom since I got here. I swear my bladder is a weapon formed against me. Anything that I drink, I have to pee out. But then, I am not letting my weak bladder stop me from enjoying my alcohol. Thanks to the lovely bartender – he has been keeping an eye on me, making sure no one bothers me. I will make sure to leave him a generous tip.

“Don’t bring a refill, Billy. Give the lady some water.” A deep voice utters softly, causing me to look up just to double-check if this water being requested is for me.

On second thought, maybe the water is not for me. The person who seems to have said those words is concentrated on their phone. I look at him for a second, wondering why I didn’t notice this man sitting next to me. Maybe the alcohol is messing with my head. I do not miss his neatly cut hair, perfectly groomed beard and neat black suit with a white shirt. I want to judge him for wearing formal clothes at this time, but I am still wearing my work clothes. Maybe he is having a rough day like I am.

“Your water.” The barman places a glass of water in front of me. My response is a frown; this is not a Margarita.

“I said refill…”

“You have had a lot to drink, don’t you think?” The man next to me asks.

“Sir, keep your opinions to yourself.” I then shift my attention to the barman. “Refill, please.”

He looks at the man next to me and then walks away. How rude! What happened to giving the customer what they want? I am so going to give this place a bad review. I get off the chair and stumble. I kick off my heels and carry them in my hands, then fiddle with my purse looking for my phone. There is no way I am driving home like this. I am going to leave my car here and catch an Uber home. Great! My phone is dead.

“Billy!” I call. That is what this man next to me called him – I guess that is his name.

“Yes, ma’am.” He rushes over.

So now he comes running, yet moments ago, he walked away when I wanted my drink. This is what we mean when we say the world favours men more than women.

“I am ready to close my tab. Can you also please call me an Uber?”

Billy first looks at the man next to me, who still has his focus on his phone, then says to me. “Your bill has been taken care of ma’am.”

“By whom?”

Again, he looks at the man next to me and then back at me. “I will call that Uber for you.” He then tells me that he is going to get his phone.

“I guess it’s my lucky day,” I say, louder than I intended. I meant to say that to myself.

“Luck doesn’t work like that.” The man next to me finally speaks to me. I was starting to think the alcohol was making me invisible to the human eye.

“It speaks.”

“Don’t call me a it. Also, I would like to have a word with you,” he says calmly.

“I am having a rough day. I am drunk – I just want to go to bed. Please leave alone. If you paid my bill with hopes that you would take me home with you, then you got the wrong girl. I don’t do those kinds of things with strangers.”

He says, “My mother raised me well. I would never take advantage of a drunk woman.”

“Then what do you want to talk about that?”

“Have some water, you had a little too much to drink,” he picks up the water on the counter and hands it to me.

“I don’t want water. I might be drunk, but my ears work perfect…” I pause and burp. “I’m sorry about that – you were saying?”

“Give me your bag and shoes.”

“Great, now you want to rob me. If you try anything, I am screaming for Billy and I have a taser,” I warn him.

“As I said, I would never take advantage of a drunk woman. Come with me,” he gulps down the remaining of his drink and walks away. I watch him walk away. Am I supposed to follow him? Should I scream for Billy so that he knows that this man is leaving without paying?

I hold on to my shoes and bag and run after the man. I shouldn’t be doing this but what’s there to lose? My life is basically over. Today I lost my job because I wouldn’t sleep with my boss. I don’t know what I am going to do or how I am going to pay my bills.

For five years, I have worked at SP Fashions only for them to drop me like I am nothing. I know I was just a receptionist, but I did a very good job; not even once did I skip work. Not even when sick. Or maybe it’s because I am black that’s why they thought they should treat me like that.

I look around me and realise I cannot see the person I am following. I am now at the parking lot, from the looks of it, people are starting to leave the club. Why am I even following a stranger? This is how people get kidnapped – here I am drunk and following a stranger. A car stops in front of me and the stranger who didn’t introduce himself comes to open the car door for me.

I get into the car and wait for him to go around and also get in. I didn’t even check what car it was or the number plate. Since when am I this careless?

“Where are you taking me?” I ask the man when he starts driving out of the club parking lot.

“To my house.”

“Why?” Probably to sleep with me since that is what some men do after paying for people’s alcohol.

“You and I need to talk, not like this, of course, we will talk in the morning.”

“What do you want to talk about?”

“We will talk in the morning.” He turns on the radio and starts playing soft music. The music is making me sleepy. I am just going to close my eyes for a second, then demand that this man tell me what he wants to talk about.

***

My ringing phone wakes me up. I reach for it and put it on my ear, half asleep.

Me: SP Fashions, how can I help you?

Giselle: Where the hell are you? Do you know how worried I am? I have been trying to call you all night and all morning. Do you know how worried I am?

Me: Giselle, slow down, I have a headache. What are you talking about?

Giselle: Where are you?

I rub my eyes and look around me. I am in bed and a room I don’t recognise. The bed looks way bigger than mine and very comfortable. Still trying to rub sleep off my eyes, I notice the grey still closed curtains and white walls around the room. I quickly pat myself; I am still wearing my blank pencil dress. I don’t feel anything, so I don’t think I was raped, which is a relief since I was drunk the previous night and don’t know how I got here.

Everything starts to come back. I was at the club drowning myself with alcohol. I remember sending Geselle a voice note, crying. I remember the stranger who asked to speak to me. My phone was dead last night, but now it’s fully charged. My bag is on the bedside table and all my things are still here. My heels are next to the bed.

Giselle: Jade? Can you hear me?

Me: Let me call you back.

Giselle: Don’t you dare…

I hang up and put my phone down, putting it on silent. Giselle calls me back right away, but I ignore it, get out of bed and look around me. I am in a huge, very pretty room. This has to be a hotel room, there is no way this is someone’s house. But that man said he was taking me to his house – I am really not sure. A knock on the door startles me.

“Who is it?” I ask even though getting it would have been a better idea.

“It’s Anne, can I come in?” A feminine voice answers. Since it’s another female, I permit them to come in. A slim, tall woman wearing what looks like a uniform walks in. She is carrying a garment bag. “Good morning ma’am.”

“My name is Jade, call me Jade.”

“I was asked to give you this dress to wear so you can join Mr Lyon for lunch,” Anne says with a warm smile pasted on her face. Who the hell is Mr Lyon and what does she mean by lunch? How long have I been sleeping?

I want to ask her who Mr Lyon is. I want to ask her where I am. I want to ask her where the bathroom is because my bladder is about to explode. I want to ask if this Mr Lyon traffics people, but I don’t know where to start.

Anne says to me, “The bathroom is that way; if you need to bathe, you will find everything you need in there.”

Anne is just standing there as if waiting for me to go to the bathroom, so I do so. The bathroom is gorgeous. It has a shower and a tub. Everything looks so clean and well organised, I could eat off these floors. The full-length mirror is so gorgeous. Anne is right, I have everything I need here to bathe and clean up well. I fill the tub with warm water and throw in the bath bombs, then rest in the water. Now this is living. Imagine having these kinds of baths every day.

A sweet cologne fills my nostrils. I slowly open my eyes, still lying back in the tub. I quickly sit up, startled, when I am met by a male figure, but then slide down a little to hide under the bubbles so this man doesn’t see my nakedness.

“Good morning. Can you hurry up so we can talk?”

“Who are you? And what are you doing here?” I have never seen this man in my life. He is wearing grey sweat shorts and a grey t-shirt that sits on his muscles perfectly. I know now is not the time, but that fine black king right there.

“I drove you here, put you in bed, right now you are in my house, in my tub and asking who I am. You women make it easy to kidnap you. Hurry up so we can talk.” With that, he walks out of the bathroom.

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