Darling Nikki

Nicole Lindner wasn’t just any bitch. She was THAT BITCH.

She was the type to go into a designer store and drop ten bills without even looking at the price tag.

She always paid for the check without looking at the receipt first. She didn’t have to.

She spent money like water but always had just enough in her account at all times.

She had that swagger. The confidence that was so overwhelming, it made other women want to be like her and get to know her even more. But Nikki was a woman who had few friends and many enemies. But it wasn’t to say she didn’t like it like that. The tighter her circle, the fewer problems presented themselves. The more enemies she had, the more free publicity garnered.

After all, to be hated is to be loved in Nikki’s mind. She was the Machiavellian Princess.

She came to the club by herself that night. Having a hard day at work, all Nikki wanted was to get drunk and forget about her troubles. There was nothing more irresistible than a man who had confidence. Not just any confidence. Rich, buttery soul smoothness. Not all men have it. Not all women want it.

But there was something about Dave Batista that was captivating. But Nikki wasn’t focused on his looks or confidence. She didn’t give a damn about neither. She was so used to scaring men off with her brash demeanor, she found herself stumbling and stuck when Dave wouldn’t remove himself from her presence.

“Listen, you have exactly five seconds to get the hell out of my face before I…”

Dave stepped up to the petite beauty. “Before you what?”

Is this motherfucker seriously challenging me? Nikki softly nodded to the drink in her hand.

“Dare me to throw this drink in your face.”

He called her bluff. “You wouldn’t do that.”

“You wanna bet?”

“Knowing you, that drink probably has all the top-shelf labels in it,” Dave’s swagger was undeniable to Nikki, “you’re not going to waste it on me.”

“You don’t know that.”

Dave shook his head in defiance. “And risk getting kicked out of the club?”

“There are others I can go to,” she responded.

“Oh, there’s plenty of clubs you can go to,” he agreed, “I can just make sure you don’t get into any of them.”

Nikki rested her hands on her hips and stood up straight. “You don’t own a goddamn thing.”

“You don’t know that.” Dave defied her.

Nikki closed her eyes. Why was she arguing with some asshole whose name she forgotten already? “I’m such a good mood, I’m going to do you a favor,” she picked up her Chloe clutch. “Bye!”

“I’ll see you later, Ms. Lindner.”

“In your dreams, asshole,” Nikki repeated.

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Dave returned to the VIP section with the drinks in tow. He had a smug grin on his face, the kind one has when they won a victory of some sort.

“What’s up with you, man?” John asked.

Dave handed John his beer. He laid back against the plush sofa and sighed. “I just met my wife.”

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I can’t believe that motherfucker got to me. No man ever gets to me and this asshole had the fucking audacity to step up to me like he knew my ass. Fuck him! Low worth, no having motherfucker. Probably doesn’t own shit, anyways.

If Nikki was trying out for the next NASCAR race, the 405 freeway was her playground. She took quick puffs on her Newport as she raced home back to her apartment. In her mind, everyone was driving too slow despite the fact Nikki was coasting at 90 mph. But she didn’t care. She had to get away from the club as soon as possible. Death was not a consideration in her mind or even a slight afterthought. She just needed to be away from the club and definitely away from the asshole named Dave Batista.

She walked into her apartment and slammed the door behind her. For someone who never lost her cool, she found herself intrigued about the mystery man who chased her out of a club. An asshole, yes. But an attractive asshole, that was for damn sure.

So why is he still on my mind?
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7 AM was just too damn early.

Sunday mornings after clubbing were meant for two things: sleep and curing a hangover. If Nikki found herself in bed with someone else, she quickly crept out before daylight broke. Instead, she was at home, staring at the creeping sunlight. She was never up at 7 AM. That was just unheard of. The earliest she woke up was at 7:30, despite needing to be at work at 7:45. But she was wide awake at 7 AM and it bothered her why.

She was thinking about him. The asshole from the night before. The tall, smooth, and gorgeous tall glass of water. His demeanor was smooth as buttercream and his presence made her cross her legs because of the yearning sensation forming between her thighs. What the fuck? She shook her head. If she stopped thinking about him, her body would stop craving him. If she told herself that enough times, it would be true, right?

Nikki’s staring into the daze came to a crashing halt by the “Material Girl” ring tone. She wasn’t a Madonna fan but had to admit the ring tone fit her perfectly “Hello?” Her raspy voice answered.

“Where were you last night? I was waiting for at the club all night and you stood my ass up!” Kristal Marshall exclaimed.

“I was there but I left,” Nikki’s mind drifted to her encounter with Dave at the bar, “too many assholes.”

“You should’ve stayed, Nic! I found the perfect guy for you!”

Nikki heard this before. Her best friend and sometimes sex partner was more interested in seeing Nicole happy with someone than concentrating on her fledging singing career. It was thoughtful yet a tad on the annoying side at the same time. “I’m sure you did.”

“I did! He’s smart, rich, and very single!”

“And let me guess…he’s very gay at the same time?”

“I’m not playing, Nic! You should’ve stayed! I think I found a great guy for you.”

“Well, maybe next time, baby.”

“I guess so,” Kristal shrugged.

Nikki reached over and picked up her pack of cigarettes. “What was his name anyways?” She stuck one in her mouth and attempted to light it. “Like I would remember it later, you know…”

“Dave.”

Nikki immediately shot up in bed as the cigarette fell out of her mouth. Noooo…it can’t be! “Is…is his last name Batista?”

“Yeah! How did you know?”

“Lucky guess…”