Ocean Of Need

16 Cocktails With Freya

March 1st

Freya sweeps into the cocktail bar on a cloud of confidence and Chanel perfume. She's wearing navy palazzo pants and a navy tailored wrap around shirt. People turn and look. People always turn and look, mutter and nudge each other. Maybe they think she's famous. Maybe she is? No one would have any idea of the kind of criminal activities she's involved in. Or the background she came from. Would they?

I'm not quite sure how Jameson met her, but I do know a bar fight was involved. She was working some kind of hustle with the wrong guy, back in the eighties. A guy that saw past her fake lashes, and hair flicks. A guy that could have hurt her badly, if Jameson hadn't stepped in.

That was long before his hair turned silver. Long before she started fucking men twenty years her junior.

They might as well be family to each now. Not sure what that makes me. Jameson said that Freya would be my guardian while he was on the run. But I don't feel like her daughter. Or his. I feel more like I'm one of their kind. One of their tribe. Protected by them. At least, for as long as I follow the rules. Keep my mouth shut. Play my part.

Mine and Jameson's relationship is not easily understood. He's my Daddy. But he's not like any Daddy I've ever known. He's dominant, but not possessive. Protective, but gentle. I've never heard him raise his voice, but I know his reputation for violence.

He rescued me. More than that, he saw my potential. Helped me harness my ideas. Put me through art college. Paid my rent. Didn't lay a hand on me. Unless I asked him to.

I had to talk him into letting me work with him. He didn't want me to, said I didn't need to. But Daddy has a weakness. Me. He can't say no to me.

That's why I'm so careful with him. Careful what I ask for. I make sure it's something I really want. Because I know he'll always say yes. At least, so far he's always said yes. But if there's one thing life has taught me, it's that things change.

I lean back against the bar and watch Freya meander between tables making her way to me.

'Amber! Darling!' She sweeps me into an embrace as if we haven't seen each other for years.

'Hey Freya, you look beautiful. Did you have fun last night? I didn't hear you come home.'

'Sorry, I should have let you know, I stayed over at George's place.' She gives me a salacious wink, and I know not to ask. Not because she won't tell me, but because she'll tell me every, single, detail.

She leans over the bar and orders two margaritas without consulting me. Then delicately sits on a plush velvet bar stool.

'You look gorgeous Darling,' she says. 'Did you come straight from the studio?'

The barman places the margaritas in front of us, nods politely, then floats away without asking for payment. Which means this place is somehow in either Freya, or Jameson's pocket. Probably Freya's, but Jameson has business all over The States, and throughout the UK. Maybe other places too.

Again, I don't ask. I've learned the less you know, the less of a liability you are. And honestly, it's probably the reason I've lasted so long as Jameson's partner in crime.

'How's it going in the studio, Darling?' She gives me another wink, letting me know she's not asking about my poetry.

'Good, thank you. Getting lots done. Really growing my following now. Strange how it's happening so fast.'

'Yes, yes,' she waves her hand, 'There was never any doubt that would happen. But, Darling, tell me about the artist. What's happening with him?'

'He's nice.' My cheeks ignite.

'He's nice!' She mimics my London accent. 'Oh. Come on, Amber. He's a fucking God. Tell me, tell me all.'

And so I do. I tell her every little thing that's happened.

*
Later...

I lay in my bed, the room spinning, and think of Freya. How she puts me at ease. How she laughs at all my jokes. Tells me how wonderful I am. Is that how she gets all the information she wants? By making everyone feel like they want to tell her everything.

How appropriate it is that she now knows all about me and you? How safe is it to be telling Daddy's best friend everything about our relationship?

It would be ok if it was some silly fling, or an experiment, but it's not. We've only known each other for a month, but I already know this is the real thing. Already know that when Daddy comes to get me, I won't want to leave. And now Freya knows that too. Bad move on my part to show my hand. Bad move indeed.