Role Play(Plaything #4)(2)

Chapter Three





Jane





I wrapped my coat around myself, hiding the sequined dress with the plunging neckline and blood covered bullet hole. The ironic thing about the costume was that the plunging neckline would probably garner much more attention than the bullet hole. My role as a nineteen fifties Marilyn Monroe style starlet had been short-lived. My character, Virginia, was also this weekend's murder victim. Playing the part of murder victim meant that I only had to work for a few hours. Once they carted away my dead body, I was free to go. It also meant only one night of pay. That part sucked because my bank account was already down to two digits and neither of the numbers were a nine.

I pulled out my phone to see if Toby, the night manager of Bulk Mart, had found some weekend hours for me. He never returned a text, which meant no.

The elevator reached my floor. It was well past ten, and the only sound in the hallway was the murmur of television sets. I had managed to avoid Brock all week. I'd lied to him about my role in the Murder Mystery for the weekend, telling him that I'd be there until Sunday. He wasn't making the breakup easy but then that didn't surprise me. Brock was always one of those guys who liked to get his way. But I was done with him.

Just before I reached my door, the door across the way swung open. It was Aidan, my extremely large new neighbor. He stopped in his doorway and nodded, not recognizing me in my blonde wig and heavy makeup.

I smiled. "It's me, Jane."

His eyes rounded. A relieved laugh followed. "For a second there I thought I was hallucinating that Marilyn Monroe was walking up the hallway. You changed your hair."

I reached up and fingered the heavily hair-sprayed wig. "No, the real me is under this blonde bombshell do. And before you start to wonder if I'm a crazy—I'm not. Well, maybe a little. I work for a Murder Mystery theater. Guests pay to spend the weekend at a big house and someone gets murdered. Well, fake murdered." I opened my coat to expose the sequined dress with the bullet hole. And just like I'd predicted, it was the plunging neckline that got the attention more than the gory display beneath it.

Aidan looked slightly dumbstruck. "Wow, that is a great dress. Ignoring the bullet hole and blood completely."

Of course. I closed the coat again. "I was the victim this weekend. Corpses only have to work Friday night."

"Nice deal for the corpses. Hey, since you're on the cold slab for the rest of the night, there's a great little diner a few blocks from here that serves breakfast all night. I was just heading down there. Are you interested in some pancakes? My treat."

"No, I've got to peel out of this dress and hose off this makeup. I'll take a rain check."

"No problem. I'll probably bring the food back. I can pick you up something." He was a menacingly big man, but something about his demeanor seemed genuinely kind. And I was hungry.

"You know what, being murdered has made me kind of hungry. I'll take an order of the strawberry French toast. If it's not too much trouble." I reached for my purse.

"No trouble and it's my treat. I'll be back in thirty minutes."

I should have gone inside, but I was having too much fun marveling at the impossible width of his shoulders in the narrow corridor.





Chapter Four





Aidan





I knocked on Jane's door. She answered a few seconds later. The sequined dress had been replaced by jeans and a t-shirt. The wig and makeup were gone. I liked the leftover girl much better.

She held out her arms. "Tada. The real me. The exact opposite of a blonde bombshell."

"Well, you're not blonde anymore, but I don't think bombshell is something you can erase." My comment earned a shy smile. I handed her the bag of food. "They were out of strawberries, so they used blueberries. Hope that's all right."

"Even better." Her long lashes fluttered as she breathed in deeply. "Smells good. I just realized how hungry I am."

"Well, I'm going to head back to my place and eat. If you'd like to join me—Although you're probably tired."

"Actually, I wouldn't mind a little company with my French toast, especially since you were nice enough to go out and get it."

"Great."

She followed me across the hallway. I waved her inside my apartment. I flicked on the light and slipped past her to clean the crap off the crummy little kitchen table. "We can eat here." I pushed aside the coffee cup and paperwork and walked into the kitchen to get the milk. Halfway to the refrigerator, I realized that she was still standing just inside the room, silent and frozen in place with a shocked, slightly freaked out expression.

"You know—" She backed up as if she didn't want to turn her back on me. "I think I'll just go back to my own place."

My gaze shot to the coffee table. It was littered with dildos and a variety of sex toys for our Yes, Yes box. In my eagerness to invite Jane to eat with me, I'd forgotten about the mess in my apartment.

"Wait," I said it too abruptly, and my intimidating size didn't help as I lumbered her direction.

She startled and backed up so quickly she smacked into the edge of the wall. Her face paled in pain and fear as she spun around and grabbed for the door.

I stayed in place, deciding my pursuit wasn't helping. "I co-own a company called Plaything," I blurted. "I'm in charge of packing and shipping. I was just working on how all the pieces would fit best in the box this month. Wait, please."

She flew out the door.

I followed but stopped in my doorway, not wanting to scare her as she worked hard at steadying her hands enough to unlock her door.

"Jane, please, I'm not a pervert. Our company sells sex toys. O.K. that doesn't sound much better. It's a totally legitimate company. Really."

"Thank you again for the food," she said weakly and slipped inside her apartment.

I lingered for a moment in the hallway, staring at the closed door across the way.

"Fuck." I went back inside and shut the door.

I stomped over to the coffee table and shoved it with my foot, littering my floor with sex toys. One of the copy samples that would be accompanying the box fluttered onto my shoe. Zane and his marketing department had done a nice job explaining the new Yes, Yes box. I picked it up and walked over to the table. I sat down and picked up the pen and some paper.

"Jane, I'm sorry if I scared you tonight. I'm giving you this flyer to help explain what my company is about. We peddle pleasure. That's it. And pleasure is popular, so we are extremely successful. I understand if you don't want anything to do with me. I just wanted to make sure you knew that you don't ever have to be afraid of me. I know I'm as big as a grizzly and I've got sex toys sitting on my coffee table, but I'm a totally normal guy. Or maybe that isn't the best way to make my point. Anyhow, enjoy your French toast. Aidan."

I walked into the hallway and slipped the note and the box insert under her door.





Chapter Five





Jane





I trailed my fork back and forth through the salad, looking for the good stuff, namely the pumpkin seeds, dried cranberries and chunks of parmesan. "Ugh, sometimes I wish they'd just leave the leafy green stuff out of the salad. It just gets in the way."

Russell squeezed more lemon into his tea. "Then it would no longer be a salad. It would be trail mix."

I stabbed my fork into a tomato. "Exactly."

Russell reached down into the shoulder bag hanging on his chair. He was sporting a new pair of thick black framed eyeglasses that gave him a seriously intellectual look. He was one of those fashion conscious guys who always looked impeccably right for whatever the occasion called for. Today he had been meeting with a few producers, so he was wearing his finely tailored suit and tie. It went well with the new glasses. He pulled a script out of his bag.

"This is top secret. So you can't share it with anyone, or I'll be out of a job and your acting career will be over before it starts."

I put down my fork and picked up a roll. "I think that might already be the case."

"Come on, Janey, don't give up now. You were really close with that last audition. That Oscar is just around the corner. I can feel it in my bones."

"I'm glad you can feel it. All I'm feeling is disappointment and utter defeat. In everything. My whole darn life."

Russell placed the script on the table. "So what's happening with the Brock saga? Are you two still talking?"

"God no. At least I'm not talking to him. He still tries to text and call. He'll get the idea soon enough."

The server came to the table and poured more tea. I picked up my glass and drank away the dry roll crumbs.

Russell swirled his tea with his straw. "I know this sounds ridiculously cliché, but you are better off without him. Have you met anyone new? Lars has a cute younger brother I could introduce you to."

"No thanks. I think I'll go solo for a bit. Especially after—" I stopped and shook my head. "Never mind."

Russell sat forward, his eyes wide between his lenses. "No way with the never mind. Especially after what? I need something juicy to get me through the boring meetings I have lined up today."

"It's not all that juicy. In fact, I'm not really sure how to describe it."

Russell leaned back, leaving one hand still on the table as he drummed a beat with his fingers. "Dish or I'm letting you pick up the tab."