Stripped

Chapter 12

Mark was seething when I called to tell him about the bachelor party, "He didn't even give you the opportunity to decide! And did he even get this woman's name? He could be sending the two of you to an empty warehouse to get raped or...who knows what! Maybe I should go with you."

Now that was a terrible idea, "Mark slow down, he's sending a bouncer with us. We'll be perfectly safe. Besides, the other girls have been to this address before, I think it's a venue and not a private address. It seems legit."

He paused, considering what I had said but didn't seem convinced, "I still think I should come."

I had to put my foot down, I can take care of myself. "Mark, no. I will be fine and will call you right before and right after if it will make you feel better."

Not sounding even a little bit pleased with me, he reluctantly agreed. "Fine. When is it anyway?"

I grabbed the paper Brad had given me, "Saturday at nine. Why?"

"Oh good. You'll still be able to come to the charity event on Friday." 

"Wait...what?" I asked. What the hell was he talking about? 

"The charity event I asked you to a few weeks ago. Did you forget? I already chose a dress for you and everything. I had it sent to your place, should get there today."

Fuck. "Um, Mark? Friday is supposed to be my first gig with the band." I waited for him to explode, but it didn't happen. There was only silence. "Mark?" He was pissed.

"You're going to choose him over me aren't you?" His voice was low, I could hear the hurt in his tone.

"No I'm not choosing him. I'm choosing the gig. They changed the set list specifically for me to be apart of the show. I can't just leave them hanging." Why couldn't he understand that I had made a commitment not just to Jake but to the rest of the group? Mark remained  silent on the other end of the line. He had never been so angry with me. 

At that moment there was a knock on the door. On the other side there was a delivery boy holding a large arrangement of roses and a box bearing a ridiculous looking red bow. I let him bring them in and set the items on the table, handing me a clipboard to sign for the delivery. "Thank you." I said to the boy's retreating back. "Oh Mark. You didn't have to do all this." I said into the phone as I kicked the door closed with my foot. Guilt washed over me in a tidal wave.

"You got my delivery?" 

"Yes," I opened the box and pulled out a long black gown. The tag said Versace. "Oh Mark, it's beautiful." I said holding the dress up to my body. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. I guess it was a waste anyway..." 

"Look... maybe I can go to the event and meet the band after. The show isn't until ten." 

Mark dismissed that idea quickly, "No it's really okay. You go ahead to the show." Without another word the line went dead.

For a long moment I stared at my phone. Should I call him back? Or should I wait? What the hell am I going to do? I sat down at the table and rested my head on my arms. Boys are complicated.

After hours and hours of flipping back and forth between going to the charity event or to the gig and making Kara absolutely  nuts. She finally snapped, "For goodness sake Layla! Mark will get over it! Just go to the show and the two of you will hook up after. It isn't that big of a deal."

She was right, I had made a commitment and the guys needed me, "Okay okay, I'll go!"

Friday arrived quickly and boy was I nervous. Never having sang in front of a large group of people before, my stomach was rebelling. I hadn't managed to eat a single thing the whole day. Kara helped me get ready, we chose a pair of ripped blue jeans and a black AC/DC shirt that she altered to hang off my shoulder. Kara meticulously went through my hair with a large barrel curling iron, creating the perfect waves that fell halfway down my back. I completed the look with a pair of black leather spike heeled boots. I felt smoking hot  as I examined my reflection. I glanced over to the photo on my dresser and said, "Wish me luck Mom."