Amazing amazing amazing! You guys are all AMAZING! Seriously! It just blows my mind that you guys are into this story as much as you are! Thank you so much for the feed back and your continuing support! I really REALLY appreciate it! It makes writing SO much more fun (which is hard to do cuz' it's already my favorite thing to do anyway! LOL!)
Anyway, happy reading! Much more to come! :D
"Good evening, Sir," JARVIS said, as soon as I pulled my Bugatti into the shop that evening, killed the engine, and climbed out. "The current temperature is 58 degrees with moderate cloud cover and a slight breeze from the northeast, with no chance of precipitation. Sunrise expected at 6:05 am. Currently, there are no messages for you, Sir. Shall I turn on the ambient lighting for you upstairs?" he asked.
"Nah, J, I'll just hang out down here for a while," I replied softly, pushing the car door closed and sighing heavily as I leaned against it. My brain was full. On the one hand, I was completely thrilled that I was able to hold Pepper. I mean, hold on to her. Retain her, that is. Her services. That I was able to retain her services, is what I'm trying to say.
But, on the other? There was the small problem of Vanessa. What problem?, you might ask. Just let her go. And I knew I should. Just admit defeat, lick my wounds and chalk one up under the L column, cuz' she got me good, right? Yeah. That's what I should've done. Problem was, I didn't know if I could.
Vanessa was everything a guy like me was supposed to want in a woman. For starters, she was gorgeous (I mean, come on.) But we also shared the same genius IQ score, she had her own dough (so no risk of gold-digging there), she was successful, and we both had similar upbringings, just her's was in merry old England instead of the States. Plus, she laughed at my stupid jokes, she could do more than put two sentences together in a very technical conversation (so it was really nice having someone around to talk shop with, I'll be honest) and did I mention how positively electric our night together was? Clearly, we were a good match. Not that I'm looking. Cuz' I'm not. I'm just saying it had been a long time since I'd been with a girl who seemed to really get me, you know? So, in a nutshell? She was...a breath of fresh air, I suppose. And I guess I was having a hard time letting that go. I mean, it felt so good to be understood, for once. In a world that so often didn't understand me, I suppose I found some kind of...solace in that. In her. Which I didn't even know that was possible for me- to find someone who made me feel that way.
And I guess that's what was eating away at me. She obviously didn't see it the same way. Otherwise, why would she leave the way she did?
Wait. What was I saying? Holy hell, was I acting like a pussy about this girl. God, this was aggravating! All of these bizarre thoughts bouncing around in my head. It was totally unnerving. You know I wasn't normally like this.
Oh! And then,what about the thing that happened with Pepper earlier?! What the hell happened there?! Don't get me wrong. You know I've thought about her and I together. But tonight was yet another reminder that she...hasn't. Who am I kidding? What would she want with me? I'm a mess, easy enough to disguise from...well, Vanessa. But Pepper? She's seen me at my worst. She knows who I really am. That I'm really only a shined up nickel to the public, and in private, I'm pretty broke down and dysfunctional. And tonight? We clearly got a little too close for her comfort. Totally my fault, granted. The "hug" stunt I pulled was too much, I know, but damn it! Seeing her so happy just...made me want to hold her, you know? Feel a little of that warm glow against me? Can you blame me? And when she started to cry? I mean, I know they were happy tears and everything, but my God. Seeing her cry is singly the most disarmingly heartbreaking, beautiful, yet tragic thing to watch. Words can't describe it any better than that. It's like I just crumble on the inside, and all I want to do is pull her into my arms, and protect her. But, as I said, I'd already got my one shot. And, judging by the way she just stared at me, completely in shock that I'd been so bold as to bring to fruition her comment made in jest, I knew I needed to forget all about ever doing that again. It seemed it only embarrassed her.
I'd been leaning on my car, absent minded-ly twirling my keys in my hand since I'd come home, thinking about all of this. And for some reason, I hadn't even thought about heading upstairs at all. In fact, I'd thought about getting right back in that car and driving until I figured this whole mess in my head out.
You know where else you could go?, the little voice in my head beckoned. "The Four Seasons", I muttered in reply. I smirked and chuckled at how ridiculous it would be of me, showing up like some kind of desperate loner, knocking on Vanessa's door, looking for a booty call. "Pathetic," I said to myself. And remember, I don't chase. Because why? Say it with me now- chasing is for chumps.
But I knew I couldn't just stand there all night, twirling my keys. And I didn't relish the idea of staying home, and spending the night alone. I needed some distraction. So I began tossing those keys in my hand up and down formulating a plan, and smiling to myself as it came together. As soon as I was sure I'd thought up the perfect evening out to get my mind off both women, I tossed those keys in the driver's seat and made for the stairs. It was time to get pretty.
XxXxXxXxXx
An hour later, I was shaved, slicked, and looking sexy as hell. Yeah, you heard me right. I looked good. Did you expect any less?
I was in a black Hugo Boss suit, a purple buttoned down shirt, and I smelled filthy. Rich. And if my calculations were correct, and they always were, I'd be arriving at my destination at precisely the moment the herd of heat-seeking female patrons typically arrived, painted up like horny walking bull's eyes. All I needed was to pick my target for the night, and take aim. And let's just say the size of my arrow, I don't mind telling you, is huge.
I grabbed the keys out of the driver's seat of the Bugatti, and almost climbed in. But then I tossed the keys back in the seat, changing my selection to the blaze orange Lamborghini instead. Hey. I knew how to play the club rat game, alright? Big, bright, fast, and loud would get me what I was after- a nameless face in a short skirt. It had many times before.
XxXxXxXxXx
I roared up to the Romero, an old standby nightclub in LA full of 20 and 30-something's that thought they were high society. But really? They were a bunch of dot com'ers that were burning through the last of their dough, trying to live the high life for a long as they could, since the tech bubble burst and they were all going bankrupt. And they were doing it as quickly as the club owners could flick their bics. What could I say? The girls that were here were scraping the bottom of the barrel in terms of sugar daddy's. Remember what I said about my arrow? What? Ohhhhh. You thought I was talking about my...mmmmkay. No, I was actually talking about my amount of game compared to these losers. Now, get your mind out of the gutter, please? And try to keep up.
I slipped the bouncer a hundred dollar bill, and he, of course, let me inside. He already knew who I was, but hey. It's never a bad thing to apply some extra grease to the wheels for the future. Anyway, inside the music was some house trance crap (clearly not my favorite, but whatever. That's not why I was there), and, luckily the night was still fairly young. So, without the live DJ there to crank it up, it wasn't ungodly loud like I'd thought it would be. Another reason to work quickly, I thought. Get outta here before DJ Scratch and Sniff, or whatever the hell name they've got, shows up.I made my way to the bar and ordered a Jack and Coke. Because the Scotch here is also crap. FYI, I'd learned that one the hard way. The bartender mixed my drink, and I started the hunt, stealthily scanning the crowd as I took a long pull off the glass.
As predicted, it was full of the usual suspects- guys in douchey little black Gucci pants and tight, shiny silk shirts trying to dance with girls in tiny little sparkly lame' dresses (if you can call them that. They're more like fabric scraps. Not complaining. Just giving you the play by play, here). In short? It looked like Night at the Roxbury threw up all over the place, and I know I stuck out like a sore thumb there. I've never belonged in that low-rent club, but again. It wasn't about the quality of the target that night. It was about the strength (and length, if you will) of the arrow. (And yes. I do mean that kind this time). Plus, they actually do have a VIP room upstairs. (Why, I'll never know because I'm about the only recognizable name in the joint at any given time. Hey. Maybe I should ask them to rename it the Tony Stark room, instead? That would be hilarious. And, damn it, I'd be so proud.) At any rate, whoever the lucky lady was, I would be taking her up there for a little target practice.
Could I have gone to a better club, and found a more upscale date for the night? You bet your sweet bippy. But Good Old Tony Stark, here, wasn't feelin' it. I needed something quick and easy. I needed it trashy and seedy and questionable in all the right ways. Why? Because the outside needed to match how I felt on the inside. Okay? There. I said it. And it's what I deserve. I've got a woman in my life who is loyal, and caring, and trust-worthy, and the best damn assistant I've ever had, and she's also gorgeous and smart, and funny and would make someone a really good wife some day. She also doesn't want me. And I'm not the marrying type.
When I picture how Pepper Potts's life would be, without me in it? I picture her having a house in the suburbs, with a white picket fence. A real 'American Dream' type of life, you know? With a blond, blue-eyed, corn-fed, all-American bronzed skin Adonis for a husband who'd absolutely adore her. Like she deserves. And they'd raise their 3 kids, the girls with strawberry blond hair and freckles, and the prettiest crystal clear blue eyes you've ever seen, just like their mom's. And the boy would have blond hair, blue eyes, and be handsome like dear old dad. And it would be beautiful. And, the best part is, she wouldn't have to put up with my sorry ass anymore. Hell, in my fantasy, she wouldn't have had to have known me at all. And I wouldn't have to feel the guilt of needing her so much, or thinking I'm holding her back from the happiness she deserves by being selfish, and fighting so hard to keep her in my life, just to have that little spark of happiness I get from seeing her face every day.
I downed the last of what was in my glass, and ordered another, already feeling the warm, numbing sensation of the alcohol. Getting wasted or getting laid- at this point it didn't much matter what I ended up doing. Just so long as the familiar guilty, shame-filled ache got drowned out in some way.
Just then, I caught a whiff of some very familiar women's perfume as I laid eyes on a blond woman at the bar, who had had her back to me since I'd arrived. She turned around to leave her seat and head for the dance floor. And I spluttered, instantly recognizing her, even in my beginning stages of inebriation. "Vanessa?!" I cried. She heard her name and spun around, looking for the person who had called out to her. Then she noticed me, and her eyes lit up.
"Tony! Darling!" she cooed loudly. She gestured to a friend she had been sitting at the bar with to go on without her, and she waggled those curvy hips over in my direction. She was in a short, tight, blue velvet number, with spaghetti straps that looked like they were hanging on her shoulders for dear life, and might break under the load they were being asked to support. She flung her arms around my neck, and then kissed me hard. My eyebrows shot up in shock, obviously not expecting such an exuberant greeting from her.
She abruptly broke the kiss, and wiped her smudged red lipstick off my lips with her thumb, giggling. "Oh, dear, look at the mess I've made," she cooed, giggling. I was speechless. She could have stripped me naked and powdered and diapered my behind like a baby at the moment, and my boggled mind wouldn't have known the difference.
"Vanessa," I said finally, trying to come out of my stupor and register what was happening. "I...didn't expect..." I stammered.
"To see me again?" she finished. "I know, love. And I don't blame you, really. I'm ashamed of my running out on you like that. Tsk, tsk, tsk," she said. She wrapped her arms back around my neck, and stepped between my legs. She looked deeply into my eyes and batted those long lashes at me. "Forgive me?" she asked, giving me sad puppy dog eyes, and pouting.
"I..." I stammered again. "You know, I had this all played out in my head much differently," I explained, still bewildered that she was standing in front of me, asking for my forgiveness, and making it very hard not to grant her what she wanted.
"Oh?" she said, smiling. "You had a speech planned, did you? Telling me I'd been naughty, and should be punished?" she purred. She giggled at the idea, and I slowly cracked a sly smirk, realizing that this was her way of trying to get me to show my hand. I mentioned she was smart, didn't I? See, she wanted to know if she'd hurt me. If she'd been living rent free in my head since our night together. Bottom line? She was trying to see if she'd won the game, or if it was time for round 2. That's why she was trying to tempt me now. To see which way I'd bend. And when I'd finally fully wised up, I grabbed her by the wrist firmly, and looked deep into her eyes, my jaw set. She let out a thrilled little squeak, and looked at me with a taunting grin.
My nostrils flared, and my eyes blazed as I gave her the same taunting look back. "Oh, honey. You think you left me alone and crying?" I purred snidely. "I was just waiting to see if you'd be able to resist coming back for seconds. And look, here we are. So what's your next move, Vanessa?"
She chuckled to herself, and worked her jaw in thought for a moment. Then she inhaled sharply through her teeth, and snaked her other hand up my chest and around the back of my head, pulling me tightly to her so we were damn near nose to nose. Then she flicked her tongue up my lips with a swipe, and curled it back into her mouth before smiling slyly. "I think having seconds is a delicious idea," she purred back.
I smiled devilishly at her decision. Sucker, I thought. She'd played right into my hands.
