Bold and Fearless

Anyone watching would have known that today was not a day to bother Tressa Marland. Her usual pleasant, if not passive, demeanor was underscored with a line of tension which vibrated through her entire body. Her full lips were set in a harsh, pensive line and her soft, almond shaped brown eyes had taken on a hardness that appeared out of place on her almost angelic dark cinnamon-colored face. Today, of all days, was a day even the servers at her normal haunt kept their distance.

"Sheesh, what's with the face?"

Tressa didn't bother to make eye contact with her best friend as she took the seat opposite her. She sat staring out the large windows of the cafe, her long legs stretched out beneath the table and her fingers curled over a small, pale pink card, which she kept tapping in a continuous, annoying rhythm over the tabletop. Her shoulders were drawn up to her ears, making her upper body appear tight and scrunched.

She could feel Dara's eyes on her, but Tressa's anger wouldn't allow her to form a response just yet. Instead, she slid the card across the table and waited patiently for the other woman to read it.

After a moment, Dara let out a low hiss, muttering faintly, "Ho-ly shit."

She smiled wryly. Dara's response was succinct, if not tame compared to the string of expletives Tressa had let loose once she'd read the script embossed on that little pink card. When the words had finally registered, her lovely, sunny day had immediately shifted to dark and overcast.

"That sonofabitch is getting married?!?" Dara continued, not caring that a few heads had turned in their direction. Her brown eyes were wide as she leaned in toward Tressa. "And he had the nerve to send you an invitation?"

A thin smile tugged at one corner of her mouth. "Yeah, real kind of him, huh?"

Dara huffed loudly, her hands closing around the pale pink invitation, appearing, for a moment, as if she were going to rip it in two. Instead, she set it on the table between them.

Tressa didn't move to reach for it. She sat staring at it, as if it were a snake ready to strike. Perhaps, it already had. There was a dull ache in her chest, and her limbs felt tight and heavy. She was angry, yes, but also a little sad, though she would never openly admit it.

Xavier James was getting married, and it had only been a year since she'd cut him loose.

Tressa and Xavier had been the perfect couple, for all intents and purposes. Tressa had adored Xavier -- anything he asked, she would give. Nothing was too much. She had loved him deeply, and supported everything he set out to do. They were together for 2 years before he proposed.

College kept them from setting a date, but once they'd both graduated --undergrad and grad schools, respectively -- they just couldn't seem to agree. Xavier would find some excuse, blaming her impatience for his lack of commitment, and Tressa would apologize and give him space. Nearly 10 years passed since they'd started dating, ten years of putting his needs first, of waiting on him hand and foot, ten years of what she saw now as blind subservience. Marriage had not necessarily been her priority, but after 10 years, what was there left for them?

Shame woke her early one spring morning, and she knew she couldn't do it anymore. She hated what she'd become -- quiet, complacent - and she'd needed to let him go.

A year later and he was committing to someone else!

A year later and she couldn't even remember what had made him so special in her eyes.

A waiter came to take their orders just then, momentarily breaking the tension. They ordered a light lunch and he scurried away.

"So, what are you going to do?" Dara asked, her eyes narrowed curiously as she wrapped her lean fingers around her water glass. "Are you gonna go?"

Tressa laughed wryly, still hunched in her chair. "Hell, no. That would be idiotic."

Dara took a deep breath. "I can't believe this, Tressa. I just..." She brought her fist down roughly on the tabletop, causing their glasses to shudder. "After all you did for that asshole! Ten long ass years of making his ass happy, and this is what he does? I ought to go myself, just so I can cause a ruckus in your honor!"

Tressa couldn't help laughing. At first, it was a quiet little snicker, but soon it was an all out laugh. People were definitely watching her now, but she couldn't find it in her to care. Dara was more upset than she, and she wasn't the one this had happened to. God love her.

Tressa had wanted to feel some measure of hatred toward Xavier, but she couldn't. She was angrier with herself. She couldn't hate him for the way he'd treated her when she'd been the one to allow it for so long. In fact, in all honesty, she was kind of jealous of him. He'd stepped up and moved on.

That thought was sobering.

"It's not his fault, Dara," she admitted, as much to herself as to her best friend. "I let it go down the way it did. By the time I got the balls to speak my piece, it was already too late. Much luck to the happy couple." She raised her glass in a mock salute. "In fact, I think we should celebrate."

"Celebrate what?"

"Xavier's engagement, of course." Tressa pulled herself up in her chair, brushing her thick, angular bangs behind her ear. The movement was pointless; they fell right back into place. "Let's go out and do something crazy."

Dara laughed shortly, leaning back to allow the waiter to place their salads. Her definition of 'crazy' and Tressa's definition had never been on the same level. "What," she joked. "You wanna stay up until midnight?"

"Hardy-fuckin'-har," Tressa replied, though she was smiling as well. Her earlier dark mood was seeping away, and an idea was forming in her head. Her excited energy was bordering on manic now. "I want to cut loose tonight, Dara," she went on. "I'm making a New Year's resolution."

Dara raised one thin, artfully arched eyebrow. "It's June."

"So? I'm serious, D. Xavier's invite just made me realize something. Maybe if I had been different things would have turned out differently."

"Ooooh, no. You're better off without that idiot."

Tressa rolled her eyes. "I know that, but what I mean is, if I had been more honest with myself, maybe we wouldn't have dragged on as long as we did. If I had spoken up sooner, I wouldn't be in this situation. I just... I want to be... more."

Dara speared a cucumber and chewed it thoughtfully before responding. "Yeah. Okay. I'm not following you."

"I want to be all the things I couldn't find the courage to be when I was with Xavier," Tressa replied.

"Which is?"

Tressa thought for a moment, brushing at her bangs again. She'd always hated her hair. It was too thick and nothing she did could ever make it grow much farther past her chin. But, she'd kept it because Xavier had liked it. Truthfully, she'd been afraid to cut it. Well, no more. No more being quiet and afraid. She would start by cutting her stupid hair.

"You'll see," she finally said, digging into her salad. Her appetite had returned. "Just make sure you're ready by 9pm. We're goin' out!" *** Hungover.

Tressa knew before opening her eyes that she was in for one hell of a morning. Long before she had floated to full consciousness, she was aware of the pounding in her skull. Her skin felt slick with perspiration and her mouth tasted absolutely awful. She lay for a long time trying to gather together the fragments of what seemed to be a dream, of what she mildly hoped was a dream.

She'd taken rather quickly to her new outlook on life. She'd shown up to Dara's apartment in skintight dark blue jeans, a royal blue silk corset, and knee-high black stiletto boots. Silver teardrop earrings and a matching necklace were her only accessories.

After having parted ways earlier in the day, Tressa had gone to the nearest salon and had them chop off her hair. She'd kept the bangs; now they hung long and stylishly ragged over her left eye, while the sides had been cut close. She looked like a rockstar. Her friends had been speechless. They'd looked almost worried.

They went to one of Dara's usual spots, a club on the north side of the city. Not having been much of a drinker after college, Tressa was something of a lightweight these days. Three beers and two shots of Cuervo in and she was feeling no pain, Xavier's little pink invitation nothing more than an afterthought as she danced the night away with a number of nameless, faceless men she was sure she wouldn't remember in the morning. She'd had fun, basking in the attention and the looks of lust in her admirers eyes, looks she hadn't been the recipient of in what seemed like an eternity. Even her best friend had appeared impressed.

But last nights pleasure was this morning's pain. She shifted in the bed, moaning as the pain shifted with her. Her whole body was one big, tight ache. Her calves burned from having worn the boots all night, and she could feel the sheets sticking to her naked back.

Funny, she didn't remember taking off her clothes. Actually, she couldn't remember making it home last night. But she was alive and somewhat coherent, so nothing too bad must have happened. She'd have to thank Dara for making sure she'd made it back safely.

"She stirs."

Tressa's eyes shot open, her head jerking to the side, toward the sound of the gruff, unfamiliar male voice coming into her room, a ceramic coffee mug clutched in each of his rather large hands.

Wait, she thought, panic coiling swiftly through her. This isn't my room!

Reading the fear in her eyes, the guy stopped short.

"Okay," he said, his rough voice coming out in a soothing drawl, an amused smile tilting the corners of his full lips. "Don't freak out. Everything's cool. Just let me explain."

Ignoring the throbbing in her head, she bolted upright, fully aware of her complete nakedness as she roughly tugged the sheet up over her body.

"Where the hell am I?" she squeaked, scooting backward until her back was pressed against the cool wood of the headboard.

"My place," he answered simply, turning to set the mugs on the dresser near the door. She could smell the coffee wafting from them. "Do you remember anything about last night?"

Tressa bit her lower lip, trying in vain to pull the pieces together. She remembered drinking and dancing, and somewhere, somehow, this handsome fellow fit in, but she couldn't remember any specifics. Had she kissed him? Had she fucked him? She was naked in what she assumed was his bed, and the previous night was nothing but a vague blur in her cottony brain.

"Not much. Did you drug me?" she asked.

"Not hardly, sweetheart."

The amused smile was still on his face. He leaned a hip against the tall mahogany dresser, crossing his bare feet at the ankles. In spite of her confusion and anxiety, Tressa couldn't help checking him out.

He was undoubtedly handsome, tall and lean. His chestnut hair sat in loose natural curls that barely brushed his earlobes. His face was made of strong lines, except for the softly twinkling slate-gray eyes and the full, playful pout of his lips. She guessed him to be in his mid-thirties, just a few years older than her 28, though she had never been any good at the age game. The red t-shirt he wore set off his naturally tanned skin. Again, she wondered if she had fucked him, and if she'd enjoyed it.

"So," she said, mentally shaking herself, determined to keep her voice level. "What the hell happened?"

"Coffee," he offered, picking up the mugs and sauntering toward her. Yes, 'sauntered' was the perfect word. He moved with an easy masculine grace. She liked it.

She took the mug he offered, bunching the sheet up under her arms as she muttered her thanks. "You gonna fill me in?"

"Of course."

He settled on the edge of the bed near her knees, and Tressa struggled not to scoot away. She didn't feel drugged, just terribly hungover, so maybe he was a nice guy after all. She blew on the steaming cup before taking a sip. Despite her nausea, the coffee was absolutely delicious. Gourmet, she could tell, not the cruddy, store bought crap she kept at her place. She looked at him expectantly, though a little warily.

"So...?"

His face took on a serious cast and he watched her from beneath the thick fringe of his dark lashes. "Well, I asked you to dance, and you asked if I could make you breakfast."

For a long moment Tressa stared blankly back at him, then suddenly, surprisingly, she burst out laughing. There was nothing else for her to do. She'd promised herself that from here on out she would be bold and fearless, and it seemed she'd gone from 0 to 60 in the space of a breath. Not only had she gotten completely shitfaced last night, but she'd also propositioned a stranger - two things she would have never done before. She had to laugh, if only just to keep from crying.

Though her head hurt from laughing, she couldn't stop herself. What was it that her friends always said? Balls to the wall. Yes, she had definitely gone 'balls to the wall'.

"You're laughing," the stranger said, his smile almost relieved now. "That's a good sign, right?"

Tressa nodded, still giggling. "I'm really sorry."

"Believe me, no worries. You were quite entertaining."

Her laughter died completely. That's right, she thought. I'm naked in his bed. I was probably extremely entertaining.

"Nothing happened," he went on. "It's not what you're thinking." He patted her knee reassuringly. "Though I can't say it wasn't tempting. But, I know better than to take advantage of an inebriated young lady."

Tressa curled her fingers around her mug, taking comfort in its warmth, and the guy's reassurances. "Okay. So, how did I get here? Why am I naked?"

He took a deep breath, puffing out his cheeks before blowing the air out harshly. "Well, you can be very persuasive -- that's how you got here. Why are you naked?" He laughed shortly. "That I don't have an answer for."

She exhaled slowly, thanking her lucky stars that the guy had had enough wherewithal not to take advantage of her, but slightly embarrassed that she'd stripped down naked before probably passing out in his bed. But the feeling quickly faded. She'd damn sure stuck to her resolution.

She took another sip from her coffee before speaking again. "Well," she drawled. "Thanks for the hospitality, and thanks for... keeping me safe. But, I'd better get going."

He pushed off the bed and stood up. He looked around the room, seeming to be searching for something. "Sure. No problem. But, I did promise you breakfast." He flashed her a charming smile before walking back toward the dresser. She watched him gather her jeans and then open a drawer to pull out a huge white t-shirt. "Can't send you out into the world without a hot shower and a full stomach." He tossed the items across the foot of the bed, then turned to leave.

"Oh, I couldn't eat," Tressa argued, not wanting to wear out her welcome any more than she might have. Besides, she didn't know if she'd be able to handle any real food at the moment.

He spoke over his shoulder before disappearing from view. "Bold and fearless! Isn't that what you told me last night? Now, get out of my bed!"

Now she was embarrassed. What was more, she hadn't even thought to ask the guy his name!