After Service: Service Girl Chronicles, #4

By Heidi Lowe

It took her two years to get here, but Erica finally has everything she's ever wanted: the woman of her dreams, a beautiful home, and she's about to make her first movie. Happily ever after now looks obtainable.

Putting the past behind her is going to be a challenge, however, not just for her, but for her new girlfriend. There are too many reminders, too many skeletons in the closet, too many things standing in their way. And not everyone's happy for the new couple...

Erica's about to learn a valuable lesson: getting everything you want means you have everything to lose.

After Service is the fourth and final book in the Service Girl Chronicles.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Heidi Lowe Books
• Release date: Dec 12, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386594499

Heidi Lowe

Heidi Lowe writes steamy lesbian fiction.

Book preview

After Service

(Service Girl Chronicles, 4)

by Heidi Lowe

Published by Heidi Lowe Books, 2018.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

AFTER SERVICE

First edition. December 10, 2018

Copyright © 2018 Heidi Lowe

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CONTENTS

Title

PROLOGUE

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

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Blurb

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PROLOGUE

The first time I ever saw a gun was on my tenth birthday, when my American grandfather decided it would be a good idea to teach me how to shoot. He'd retired to a sprawling twenty-acre ranch in Wyoming, and had had some trouble with a family of foxes that had been terrorizing his cats.

I remember the day distinctly; the nightmares didn’t stop for years, though the visits to Wyoming did for over a decade. My parents were furious with him for essentially traumatizing me, and were in no hurry to go back.

Seeing my grandfather pull the trigger on a helpless animal four times smaller than him had engendered my lifelong aversion to guns; had made me screech and shake my fists at the NRA spokespeople advocating widespread ownership of them.

As I stood there staring down the barrel of the handgun that was pointed at me, in the hands of a man who had every intention of pulling the trigger, I was transported back to that afternoon in Wyoming. I could barely hear Dana’s screams, begging him to put the gun down. Her voice sounded distant, even though she was standing right beside me. All I could think was how terrified the fox looked as my grandfather's rifle exploded at him. Frozen to the spot, just as I was now, having realized that these would be my final moments. It all seemed to happen in slow motion; a second lasting ten.

Then he fired.

ONE

Three months earlier

The house and its white door came into view as I rounded the corner, panting and wheezing, pushing myself beyond the limits of my physical capabilities. I was ready to topple over and expire. Those were four of the longest miles of my life. I couldn’t even make it to five. Two miles in, I almost flagged down a passing ambulance!

I collapsed on the doorstep and lay sprawled out on the floor, sucking in as much air as my tired lungs would allow, while the enchanting morning sun beat down on me from a cloudless sky.

Once I'd mustered enough energy, I pressed the stop button on my pedometer, then hoisted myself up. I ripped out my headphones, hit pause on the iPhone to stop the music. On the home screen, my background picture came into view. Although I'd seen it a thousand times, it still made me smile. She looked so happy kissing me. The picture was such a cliche, done to death by just about every couple: one person holding the camera while the other kisses them on the cheek. But I cherished it.

My legs wobbled and buckled beneath me as I entered the house and dragged myself to the kitchen. Dispensing with decorum, I twisted the faucet on then stuck my head beneath it and let the cold water pour into my mouth.

Who needs cups? I heard behind me.

When I spun around, I could barely contain my grin upon seeing her. Bedhead, blush pink satin and lace chemise, a come hither look to her sleepy eyes. The butterflies in my stomach went wild, as they usually did when I looked at her.

Hey, you, I said. She put her arms around my waist and pressed her lips to mine.

How was your run?

Productive.

She sniffed my sweaty sports top, then smiled, her solitary dimple popping. I’ll say.

I chuckled, only half embarrassed. I bust my ass trying to keep fit for you, and that’s the thanks I get, you tell me I smell.

She rubbed her nose against me affectionately. Nothing that a nice, cold shower won’t fix.

Ahh, now I get it. You just want an excuse to get me to shower with you.

She laughed. You know me too well. With that, she took me by the hand and led me up the stairs to our bathroom.

Not much in the way of washing ever happened when we showered together. It was as if the water glistening on and cascading down our naked bodies was a deterrent. Making love to her was the only thing on my mind once we were inside the four-person shower. She’d been mine for nearly four weeks, and I still couldn’t keep my hands off her. I wondered if there would ever come a time when I could.

What time do you finish this evening? Dana said an hour later, once she was dressed and ready to start her day. She helped me with my tie, something I’d never had to master, but which she did with ease. I tried not to dwell too long on the reasoning behind it — the fact that she'd had years of practice with her husband. She was mine now, that was all that mattered.

Five. It’s really just my induction today. Showing me the ropes, that sort of thing.

Nervous?

Hell yeah! I’m afraid I’m gonna fuck something up and never be invited back, as staff or as a guest.

You’ll be fine. Her voice was reassuring, calming. She’d always been able to steady my nerves. You’re not new to this kind of work. They’ll love you. Her kiss was more reassurance. As much as I do.

Once she was done with my tie, I went to look at myself in the full-length mirror. I made a face at my new getup: black tie set against a short-sleeved white blouse, a dark purple waistcoat and matching purple skirt.

This has to be the least sexy thing I’ve ever worn, I grumbled.

Dana chuckled. You’re not there to look sexy, you’re there to do a job.

Couldn’t I do both? I mumbled to myself. I'd become grumpy and bad-tempered. The skirt’s too big. It was the only black skirt I had that was suitable for this type of work. Everything else was either way too short, way too transparent, or in the case of one particular skirt, came off way too easily (by design. I'd picked it up in a sex shop).

I can get another one for you when I’m in town, if you like.

It’s fine, I’ll get one tomorrow or something. I need a new pair of shoes as well, apparently. I retrieved my one and only pair of black shoes that didn’t have six inch heels, and held them up. Scuffed and tattered loafers. Not the sort of footwear common in such an upmarket establishment. I cringed at the thought of wearing them.

I hope you’ve learned a valuable lesson, Erica, Dana said with laughter in her voice. You should have been better prepared. What were you doing that was more important than preparing for your new job?

Eyes and mouth agape as I gawked at her, I shook my head in disbelief. What was I doing? You! That’s what I was doing. The nerve of this woman, reprimanding me for spending the past four weeks in bed with her, locked away from the whole world. A sex-hibernation, that's what we'd named it.

This only made her laugh. Hey, I didn’t have a gun to your head.

Her body was the weapon; her love the bullet. Didn’t she know by now she was my everything, and that my dream would have been to spend every waking minute with her, the job be damned?

I’d accepted the position with reluctance two weeks prior, torn myself away from her long enough to take the interview. And although I desperately needed the cash, the job offer had been a blessing and a curse. A blessing because, well, like I said, I needed the money. My escorting funds had all but dried up, and I still had a movie to make. A curse, because it separated me from her. So with a heavy heart I’d accepted. Luckily my contract was part-time and allowed for flexibility.

No, but if you weren’t so damn irresistible, it might have been easier to leave the bedroom.

I sounded ridiculous, I knew it. Sappy, mushy, and lovesick. Old me, as in the girl who’d yet to meet the love of her life, would have laughed at the sentimental imbecile I’d become. But when Dana looked at me with that loving smile that told me she got me, that she felt exactly the same, I didn’t care one iota what I sounded like.

She embraced me and we kissed. Her lips had never felt more familiar.

I love you, she whispered. If it were up to me, you would stay right here. Nothing would have made me happier. Help yourself to any of my shoes, though I’m not sure I have anything suitable.

Really? I sounded almost too excited. I practically tossed her aside as I rushed to our closet, threw it open, then started rummaging through the boxes. Dozens and dozens of them, all designer names. So many pairs she could have opened a small shoe store.

I’m really starting to think you’re only with me for my shoe collection, she chuckled.

What took you so long to come to that conclusion, I joked. Oh my God, can I wear these? I pulled out a pair of Vivienne Westwood kitten heels that looked as though they’d never been worn.

Wear whatever you want, honey.

I was already slipping them on. They fit like a dream, as though they’d been made just for me. I did a few foot poses to show off my new find.

What do you think?

They look better on you than me. Your colleagues might have something to say about you wearing a thousand dollar pair of shoes to work, though.

I waved a dismissive hand, unable to take my eyes off the shoes. Colleagues, schmolleagues. These actually make the uniform look halfway decent. I looked at the time on my phone. I gotta go. Don’t want to be late on my first day.

I kissed her, and because one kiss simply wasn’t enough to last me the whole day, I stole another.

I love you, I said.

Good luck. See you at dinner.

There were no luxury cars parked in the staff parking lot of The Daisy Quarter, which was a relief. My car, although I loved it, wasn’t much to look at, was almost as old as I was, and had no right to be in the presence of the guests’ cars. Instead, a spot around the back, out of sight, had been reserved for it. No BMW’s or Range Rovers on that side.

We even had our own entrance, the doors of which didn’t open properly; and the paint on the walls in the corridor was peeling. It was like day and night. Who would have thought this was the same Daisy Quarter that cost a gazillion bucks to join?

Erica, hi, the assistant manager said as soon as I entered. She was a tall woman who looked like she’d come out of the womb stressed. She might have been in her mid-thirties, but with the bags under her eyes and the wrinkles, it was hard to tell. From the interview, I knew she’d been working there over a decade, likely without a vacation. I never wanted to end up like that.

I’ll introduce you to the rest of the team, then I’ll take you around the building.

Sounds good, I said, feigning enthusiasm. At least my one year at drama school hadn’t completely gone to waste.

The staffroom was buzzing with life, overflowing with estrogen. Not a man in sight.

Guys, this is Erica. She’ll be covering for Patricia while she’s on maternity leave.

Everyone greeted me. I recognized a few faces among the crowd.

Hey, I know you. Aren’t you a member here? the woman said. It was the English barmaid.

My cheeks started burning up. I really wished she hadn’t said it so publicly. Perhaps I would have gone unnoticed by everyone else. But now the whole room was looking at me strangely; intrigued or suspicious, I didn’t know which.

Oh yeah, I've seen you before, someone else said.

You’re a member? the assistant manager asked, surprised.

I thought I told you, I said, knowing full well I’d done no such thing.

If you managed to get a membership, what the heck are you doing slumming it over here with us? someone joked, and several people laughed.

A friend got me a temporary membership, I said bashfully, wishing they would move on to another topic.

You must have some very powerful friends, someone else said. More laughter. We work here and can’t even use the facilities, that’s how exclusive this place is.

I was glad when the meet and greet was over, and I could escape their inquisitive stares, which didn’t look all that friendly.

The tour of the whole grounds took an hour, then the assistant manager showed me to the reception desk, my new post, and left me in the capable hands of Tracey, the other receptionist, who’d been tasked with training me.

All right, you have to tell me how you scored a membership. I think everyone’s dying to know, she said, about an hour into the training.

A friend of mine, she got it for me. She knows some people. I wanted to be as vague as possible, not interested in divulging too much of my business to anyone here, especially when said business was also a member there and could walk in at any moment.

What does your friend do? Is she famous?

She’s an entrepreneur. She’s actually my mom’s friend. A friend of the family. It was a lie I didn’t feel at all bad for telling.

Who paid the compulsory donation and membership fee?

I frowned. Compulsory donation? What was she talking about?

You know, the twenty-five thousand dollar donation to the maintenance fund, plus the five grand a year for the membership?

I blinked at her. Twenty-five thousand dollars? She must have been mistaken.

Yeah. I mean, it’s a complete scam, and the money only goes to lining the already deep pockets of the owner — don’t tell anyone I said that — but I guess it keeps the riffraff out.

I—I had no idea it cost that much to join... This meant that Algebra had

Reviews for After Service

[Susan Cronin · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Wow!! When is this series coming to the big screen ? ?
This series has pulled every emotion posable out of me from start to finish. Ericas emotions were illustrated so perfectly. I hope she was able to recover her deleted files.