Blood Ink

Shae

Shae Harrington tossed back a shot of tequila.

She let out a loud exhale of breath as it burned its way down her throat, pushing the empty glass towards the bartender for a refill.

Her phone was blowing up with texts from her friends, wondering where she’d gone. She texted them to say she had to do something for work so they wouldn’t worry. Eventually, she had to face all the questions. But now, for a few hours, she wanted to hide away from her imploding world.

She lifted her hand to gaze at the rock he’d given her. It was at least three sizes too big for her finger, yellow gold, and the diamond was so big it was laughable. And, like Buck, the ring appeared flawless on the surface.

Her mind was racing a mile a minute. What the hell was he thinking, proposing like that? He might have loved being the center of attention, but she hated it. It was embarrassing, and it made her exceedingly uncomfortable. Why couldn’t he have picked a quiet, cozy place to propose, like their Friday date night? Why propose at all? Their relationship was just fine the way it was. Why did he have to go and change things between them?

Shae dropped the ring into her purse, refusing to give it further thought, then sucked back another shot.

She’d admittedly ditched her friends in horribly rude fashion with little regret at the time. Now, she was all alone at a small dive bar outside of town. It was a place her friends didn’t know existed, so she knew she was safe from being found. They never crossed the railroad tracks that led to the seedier side of town. Their entire world existed between the yacht club, work, and their homes.

She’d already had her usual two martini limit with her best friends at the club earlier tonight. Now, she’d never really tested her ultimate limit, but she knew that two martinis gave her a decent buzz. She was always mindful of her alcohol consumption. But after the way girls’ night ended, she just wanted to get shit-faced.

She threw back another shot and replayed the night with her friends in her head.

“Did you see her fillers?” Kiki asked, her eyes wide as she looked at Shae and Millie. “She looks like a squirrel storing food for the winter.”

Shae tried not to laugh at the rude comment, but the visual made her snort into her martini just the same. “That’s horrible, Kiki!”

Kiki was too into appearances, like a lot of the members of the club. At the moment, Kiki’s dark brown roots were showing. It had been a little too long since she’d had them colored. She obviously hadn’t looked too closely in the mirror, but there was no way she was going to tell her that. She would insist on calling every salon in her phone until someone agreed to see her at the late hour to fix it.

Like Kiki, her parents were also vain and believed in not socializing beneath one’s station in life. They lived solely by a caste system, which put them in the top class, since Kiki’s parents owned one of the largest jewelry chains in the world and they had been in hundreds of commercials. And her parents owned one of the most prestigious law firms in the state, their ancestral lakeside neighborhood, and the yacht club. Plus, they were on the board of too many charities to name. Her parents were very well known.

The Harrington Yacht Club had been owned by her family for generations. It was a traditional old school place where appearances and status still mattered. Traditions and ceremony meant everything to her parents and most of the longtime members of the yacht club. Tables were always covered with pristine white linen cloths and properly set with the right wine glasses and silver place settings. There was an attendant in every bathroom and there was still a gentleman’s room where the guys could drink and smoke cigars. And women were not allowed in that room, not even to serve those drinks and cigars.

Her parents introduced her to the club for the first time when she was six months old for a day of photo ops. The club became a weekly ritual for her and her two best friends, starting in junior high. She’d been sneaking drinks at the club since she was thirteen, and got away with a lot there since her parents owned it. They spent most of her life out of the country, so they were oblivious to anything she did, anyway.

As adults with busy lives and work schedules, it became a place for her and her friends to drink, unwind, and gossip like they were still in high school.

“It’s so bad!” Millie agreed. “She should have gone to Dr. Hill.” She pointed to the blonde by the bar. “Shannon went to Dr. Hill. You can’t even tell she had anything done. The man is amazing.”

Kiki shrugged with indifference. “She’s okay.”

Shae smiled. Kiki didn’t give compliments easily. She grew up with strict parents who rarely gave her a hug, let alone a compliment.

“We should go to Dr. Hill,” Kiki announced, a wide smile spreading across her red lips.

“For what?” Shae asked, not liking where this was going.

“We could have a Botox party!”

Millie laughed. “Kiki, you’re twenty-eight.”

“Exactly! Thirty is just around the corner. There will be crows’ feet and fine lines that slowly get more pronounced.”

Kiki removed her fingers from her eyes where she’d been holding the skin back. “Guy is the one who suggested it to me the other night.”

Shae shook her head. No surprise there. Guy was Kiki’s husband, and he was as concerned with appearances as she was. “We have like twenty years before we need to discuss age slowing procedures the way we take care of our skin.”

“What exactly did Guy say?” Millie asked, tucking her brunette hair behind her left ear.

“He mentioned Lizzy had gotten Botox a few weeks ago, and that she looked eighteen again.”

“His little sister is only twenty-four, and I doubt she looks eighteen after Botox. More like she looks thirty, trying to look eighteen now.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that you’re supposed to have some lines and natural movement in your face.”

Kiki shrugged. “Well, Guy thinks I’ll look like I did when he met me in college, and I agree.”

Shae wasn’t sure if Kiki was fishing for an ego boost or out of her freaking mind. “It’s only been six years since he met you, Kiki. You still look exactly like you did in college. Nobody at this table needs a cosmetic procedure. I’m not saying that any of it is a bad thing. You should do what makes you happy. I’m just saying you don’t need any of that stuff right now.”

“I agree,” Millie added. “You’re a gorgeous barbie doll.”

Millie was the sweetest one of the group. She always tried to be the positive one. She was great about giving compliments, and Shae adored her for it.

“Okay. Maybe Botox can wait a little while,” Kiki conceded.

Shae was glad that conversation was over, though she knew it was only a matter of time before they revisited it. Kiki was like a dog with a bone. Now that the idea was in her head, she wouldn’t relent until she got Botox, with or without her friends.

“Are we still on for spa day tomorrow?” Kiki asked.

“Absolutely,” Shae said. They always tried to squeeze in a spa day once a month to pamper themselves. “Spa day always makes me feel so good for days.”

“Me too,” Millie agreed. “It’s a delicious day of being selfish.”

“Completely,” Kiki said.

Millie raised her martini glass. “I love girl’s night out.”

“To us, the three hottest women in the club!” Kiki announced.

Shae raised her martini. “To friendship.”

“To friendship,” Millie and Kiki agreed in unison.

She loved her time with her friends. Besides playing together, her friends also worked for her at Body Chemistry, her body essentials company. Kiki did secretarial work, and Millie was her creative right hand. They were three peas in a designer pod.

“Excuse me, ladies.”

All eyes fell on Buckley Rutherford, or Buck, as everyone called him, as he approached their table.

“What are you doing here?” Shae asked. She rarely saw Buck on Saturdays, let alone any other day, except for Friday nights, which was date night. He was the proverbial workhorse seven days a week, no exceptions, even for her. She saw her friends way more than she ever saw her boyfriend.

He’d obviously come from the office since he was still wearing his blue Armani suit. The red and blue diagonal striped tie popped against the wool suit.

Buck put a hand out to help her up from her seat at the table and Shae looked at Kiki and Millie. They both shook their heads to say they knew nothing of what he was doing there.

Taking his hand, she let Buck lead her to the middle of the dining room. There was no way he was leading her to the floor to dance because he refused to dance whenever she asked him. Buck wasn’t exactly a fun having sort of guy. In fact, she’d never even seen him let loose. Putting off a task until the next day was as relaxed as he ever got.

The entire room fell quiet. Even the speakers that were rolling out a slow jazz song went silent.

Buck turned and stopped a foot from her. Reaching into the inside pocket of his suit jacket, he pulled out a small black box. He dropped to one knee, and she froze, aware now of what was happening.

“Shae Harrington,” Buck said, opening the box to reveal the ten carat emerald-cut diamond engagement ring. “I have achieved almost everything that I wanted to by thirty, and at only twenty-nine. I don’t think I’m being vain when I say that I’m a great catch. After all, is it conceited when it’s true?”

He chuckled, and the room ate up his charm, laughing at his boast.

Buck continued. “We’ve been together for five years and accomplished so much in that short time. Think of how much more we can accomplish with you at my side as my wife.”

He was looking at her with a smug smile. Was that the proposal? Was she supposed to answer him now, or was he going to launch into a speech about how handsome and fit he was? Not that it wasn’t true. Buck was classically handsome with a shiny new preppy appeal. He was educated, well respected and earned over seven figures a year.

So why did his marriage proposal make her want to bolt from the room?

Every eye in the room was on her. Her heart was pounding a deafening beat in her ears. The large brass fans were spinning on the thirty-foot ceiling, yet beads of sweat were breaking out on her forehead.

He saved her from answering when Buck slipped the ring on her finger, stood up and hugged her.

The room erupted in a storm of clapping.

Shae lifted her hand to look at the rock. She was speechless.

Buck took a bottle of champagne from the ice bucket a nearby server was holding and popped the top. The expensive liquid sprayed through the air and everyone cheered like it was the stroke of midnight on the New Year.

People rushed to congratulate the happy couple with hugs and handshakes.

Her stomach was churning as she rubbed her hands on the legs of her jeans. She was having trouble catching her breath, and her mouth was as dry as the Sahara. The room felt like it was closing in on her.

Shae excused herself to go to the restroom. She was a woman possessed as she sprinted right past the restrooms and made a beeline for the front doors.

She didn’t stop until she reached her car.