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Gina stared at me, listening. “Gina, my mom, as it turns out, was a prostitute. I simply thought she was a whore, which I guess is just as bad, perhaps worse, but the man who left that note was someone who’d been associated with her in her past. He actually sexually molested me during one of my mom’s ‘date nights.’ I was 13 at the time. He did it digitally and orally,” I clarified, not wanting her to think the worst.
I continued, “But the thing is, I have no clue who or where he is and how he has managed to find me. Trey and I went to Louisville to find some answers. We still have more questions.”
Gina’s eyes teared up as she leaned over and hugged me. “Girlfriend, I'm so sorry,” she cried, “and here I am, always being so fucking outspoken and judgmental where you're concerned. What a bitch you have for a friend,” she wailed.
“I wouldn’t have you any other way, Gina,” I reminded her.
“So,” she said, wiping her eyes and sniffling a bit, “what’s on your agenda with Trey now that you’ve...uh…broken the seal?”
“I don’t really know.” I didn’t want to get into the part where Trey and I had made the pact. I knew that would send Gina into a tailspin. I needed her to be okay with Trey. It was important to me. So I gave her the most truthful answer that I could.
“He wants us to be exclusive,” I said.
“I should fuckin’ hope so. You gave the man your cherry, Tylar. He must know how significant that is.”
“He does,” I defended Trey, “it’s just that, you know, I actually work for him, so we aren’t going to be overtly public.”
“No worries,” Gina assured me. “I won’t say a word to anyone except Ian. We don’t have secrets from each other and he certainly wouldn’t say anything to anyone else.”
Gina and I chatted while I finished up my packing. I wore a really cute pair of capri pants with a cotton cami top that had a built in push up bra. I'd blown dry my hair and was wearing it down. Everything was packed up and ready.
“Trey is taking me to the airport,” I told her. “I really want to thank you, Gina, for giving me the best birthday that I could have ever imagined.” We hugged again.
“This ain’t goodbye girlfriend you know. I’ll be back in Bristol when the next bumper crop of fermented wine is in.”
As noon approached, I called down for a bellhop. He was up to the room shortly with the luggage cart, loading my suitcases. Gina wanted to walk me down to the lobby. I discouraged her on account of short pajamas. Besides, I was afraid that I'd cry.
“Call me this week,” she instructed.
“I will,” I promised, “tell Ian I said ‘Bye,’ and thanks for everything!”
“I’ll do it,” she said, giving me one last hug as she disappeared down the hallway to their suite. I approached the desk to settle up for the room service breakfast Trey and I'd enjoyed this morning. As I reached for my billfold, Trey came up behind me, placing his hand on the small of my back.
“I’ve got this, angel,” he said, smiling down at me. He paid the bill and took my hand, leading me to the front entrance. The bellboy followed us out the front entrance of the hotel with my luggage. Trey steered me over to the outer lane of the drive-up circle to the hotel. There was a brand new, cherry red Mercedes-Benz SLK 350 Roadster parked there.
What’s this? Did he buy yet another expensive car? Trey popped the trunk and the bellboy stowed my luggage inside. Trey handed him a tip, then walked me around to the passenger side, opening the door for me. I got in, noticing the new car smell. Trey got in, instructing me (as always) to fasten my seat belt.
“Nice car,” I commented. “Is this your Atlanta car?”
He smiled, “No Tylar, it’syourBristol car.”
What?
“Trey…” I started.
“I won’t argue with you about this Tylar. This is my gift to you for your 21st birthday. I want you to have it. The color fits you. It's the color of fun, it’s the color of passion, and it’s the color you'll make me see if you give me any shit about taking it. Got it?”
I leaned over and hugged him. “Thank you, Trey. I love it.”
I love you,I thought. I love everything you have given me over the past 24 hours.
He was on the interstate in a matter of minutes. “So,” I asked, “is this as fast as your Lamborghini?”
Trey laughed good-naturedly. “I’m afraid not, Tylar. I want you to take things a bit slower. This car gets zero to 60 in five point four seconds. I think you can handle that, don’t you?”
Trey drove past the exit to the airport. I looked over at him for an explanation. “We’re driving back to Bristol, Tylar. How else would we get your car to you?”
“Oh, right,” I laughed. I settled back in my new sports car. Perhaps eventually Trey would let me drive it. He played soft classical music over the system that lulled me to sleep. I dreamed of our night together and the passion that we'd shared. I wished that it would always be that way between us. I wondered if this was how it was supposed to be when you loved someone. The next thing I knew we were pulling into the long, winding drive of the estate up to the manor.
