Damaged Goods (15 page)

does regular traffic reports when it"s supposed to.”

“I"m about the same way,” I said. “Do you listen to that new country station?”

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69

“Which one—106?”

“No, the other one. It"s 97.3, isn"t it?”

He wrinkled his nose. “Can"t stand it. The deejays are so…”

“Obnoxious?”

“Yes, that. Especially the morning show.”

“Oh, I know. I can"t listen to them for more than a few minutes.”

“Neither can I.” He slowed to a stop at a red light. “The late-night deejay is

pretty good, though.”

“I"ve only heard him a time or two. I"m not usually listening to the radio at

that hour.”

“I"m usually on my way home at some point during his show.”

Austin glanced at me, and we both quickly looked out the windshield. These

occasional reminders of his job would probably take some getting used to.

To lighten the mood, I said, “I never thought of country music as a chaser for

that kind of thing.”

He laughed. “Keeps me awake until I get home.”

“That"s a plus, isn"t it?”

“Yeah, it definitely is.” The light turned green, and as he pulled across the

intersection, he said, “I"ve also been known to listen to rap if it"s really late and I"m

starting to fall asleep.”

“I suppose that could help,” I said. “It would probably just make me drive

faster so I got home and didn"t have to listen to it anymore.”

“That"s not too far from the truth,” he said, chuckling. “It"s actually pretty good

for keeping me awake. Don"t know if it"s the bass, the beat, or the fact that it annoys

the hell out of me, but it does the job.”

About fifteen minutes after we left his apartment, Austin pulled up in front of

the restaurant to let me out. While I went in to get us a table, he went to find a

parking space.

The café was more crowded than we"d anticipated, so there was a bit of a wait.

No more than about ten minutes, the hostess promised, so I put our names on the

list. When he arrived, Austin stood behind me and wrapped his arms around my

waist, kissing my cheek gently. I put my hands over his and—completely defying

everything I"d ever done with men in the past—simply let myself be held. And I

loved it. I adored physical affection, but it usually took me a while to settle into it

with a new guy. It was unusual for me, this casual affection with someone new. In

the past, it was months before someone could rest a hand on me without startling

me or making me wonder what to do with my own hands.

Then again, we were hardly in a position to be uncomfortable touching each

other, so I tried to just enjoy it and not read too much into it.

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Lauren Gallagher

Still, I had to admit how oddly relaxed things were between us was compared

to a normal first date. Of course it wasn"t our first time breathing the same air, but

it was the first time we"d met without any pretenses of this being a business

transaction. No money was being exchanged this time. We"d already had sex.

Repeatedly. There was no need to impress each other, to woo each other into bed. It

was a safe bet we"d end up there tonight. For now, we could let our hair down and

just enjoy food and conversation. And, apparently, gentle affection.

After we"d been seated and placed our orders, Austin folded his hands on the

table and looked at me. “So, you said your son has an artistic side. What about your

daughter?”

I sipped my water and set the glass down. “You sure you want to get me

started on my kids? I can go on about them all night.”

He smiled. “They"re part of your life, and I want to know about you. So yes.”

“Don"t say I didn"t warn you.” I rested my forearms on the table. “I think Lex is

going to be my science buff. That kid soaks up information like a sponge. Taught

herself to read when she was three, and she loves anything science related.”

“And she"s how old?”

“Coming on eight,” I said. “But take her out on a clear night, and she can point

out constellations I"ve never even heard of.”

“Sounds like a kid who"d use the hell out of a telescope.”

“You"re not wrong there. We"re waiting until she"s a little bit older, but Michael

and I have been talking about getting her one.” I played with the coaster under my

water glass. “I know, I know, every parent talks like their kid is the cutest,

smartest, fastest, whatever, but seriously, this kid catches me off guard sometimes.”

“Really?”

“Oh God, yes. She"s got her dad"s dry sense of humor and can deadpan and

bullshit like nobody"s business.”

“How so?”

“Like, a couple of weekends ago, we were sitting there eating breakfast,” I said.

“It was absolutely pouring down rain. Freezing cold, windy as hell, nastiest weather

in ages. She looks out the window and says with a totally straight face, „Mom, this

looks like a good day to go to the beach."”

Austin laughed. “She must keep you on your toes.”

“You have no idea. And it doesn"t help that her preferred form of

entertainment, if you can get her in front of a television, is British comedy.”

His eyebrows jumped. “Seriously?”

I nodded. “Her dad"s had her watching
Blackadder
and
Red Dwarf
since she

was an infant. She"d rather watch those than cartoons.”

“And she
gets
them?” he said. “I mean, at her age, she gets the humor?”

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71

“More of it than you"d think.” I laughed and absently brushed a strand of hair

out of my face. “Fortunately, her dad is conservative enough he doesn"t explain some

of the racier jokes to her, figuring when she"s old enough to get it, she"ll get it.”

“Smart man,” Austin said with a quiet laugh. “Speaking of your ex, if you don"t

mind my asking, how do the kids deal with you two being divorced?”

“It"s not as bad as I thought it would be, honestly,” I said. “Mikey took a while

to adjust, but Lex was so young she doesn"t even remember us being married.”

“And the two of you get along?”

I nodded. “Oh yes. In fact, our custody arrangement is kind of nice. Michael

and I each get a break to collect and regroup a bit for a week; then we can devote

ourselves fully when we have the kids. It"s not ideal, but it works, the kids are well-

adjusted, and all the adults get along.”

“Can"t ask for much more than that,” he said. “I"ve always wondered how kids

deal with it. Having their parents split, I mean.”

“Yours are still married, I take it?”

“Thirty-seven years and counting.”

Well, there went another stereotype. So much for the idea that a sex worker

must have come from a broken home and a miserable childhood.

He went on, “Hell, when I was a kid, I used to panic whenever they"d fight. All

they had to do was raise their voices, and I started worrying they"d break up.”

“Really?”

He nodded, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, it was stupid. My parents were happily

married then and still are now. I was just so afraid of ending up with divorced

parents like most of my friends.”

“I don"t think it"s stupid at all,” I said. “My folks broke up when I was a

teenager, so I really didn"t want to do it to my kids, but…” I trailed off, shrugging.

Austin smiled. “Divorced or not, it sounds like you"ve done better by your kids

than some married parents do.”

“We do the best we can.”

Throughout dinner, the conversation wandered. Families, past relationships,

work, the usual date material. The odd mention of his occupation jarred me,

reminding me of the reality that this was the man I"d recently paid for sex. More

than once. Knowing what I did about him, though, it didn"t bother me like I thought

it should. Like it would have in another lifetime.

There was a time when it would have been easy to make assumptions and

paint his entire existence with the brush of being a male escort, but it was different

now. I"d seen his artwork, his everyday car parked in front of his everyday

apartment, and the way he blushed and dropped his gaze when I complimented his

work. In his past, there were college years, a rocky marriage, and a three-week

cross-country road trip with some friends after high school. He talked about his

nieces and nephews the way I talked about my kids. Going to bed with a complete

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Lauren Gallagher

stranger in exchange for a few hundred dollars he could do, but there wasn"t enough

money in the world to get him past his fear of public speaking.

More and more, he was simply Austin. What he did and how we met became

less and less material. In the back of my mind, I wondered if this, whatever it was,

could go anywhere. I wondered if it
should
. After all, if it did, there would come a

time when he"d have to meet my kids, and I owed it to my ex-husband to be honest

with him about who I was dating. In theory, Austin and I could keep Sabian a

secret, but if Michael ever found out? If he figured out I"d been bringing a prostitute

around his children? That could get ugly.

But I was getting ahead of myself. This was just dinner. A date. Some food,

some conversation, and probably another night between the sheets.

Sitting back with a cup of coffee in his hand, Austin glanced at his watch. “It"s

still pretty early. Would you be interested in catching a movie after we"re done

here?”

“I have to admit, I"m not a fan of movies on dates.”

“Is that right?”

I nodded. “Well, a first date at least. I usually prefer to wait until I"ve been

seeing someone long enough that I don"t feel like I"m sitting in silence in the dark

with a total stranger that I should be getting to know.”

Austin laughed. “I know exactly what you mean. Though there is something to

be said for getting to know a stranger in a theater with stadium seating and

armrests that can be lifted up and out of the way.” He winked.

“Are you suggesting you"d use a movie theater for something it wasn"t intended

for?”

He snorted. “Please. A dark room like that is meant for one thing, and one

thing only.”

“Watching movies, last I checked.”

He shrugged. “That or a blowjob.”

I laughed. “I can"t say I"ve ever done that in a theater.”

“Really?” He grinned and reached across the table to lay his hand over mine.

“Maybe we"ll have to change that.”

“Maybe we will.” I turned my hand over under his and ran my thumb back and

forth across his wrist. “For now, you"ll just have to put up with conversation.”

“Oh, fine. If you insist.” He clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes.

“But if you"re good, maybe we can go to a movie later.”

He trailed his fingertips along the underside of my forearm. “Or maybe we

could just skip the movie.”

“Well, what fun is that?”

He grinned. “I can see we"re going to get along very well.”

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73

The waitress appeared just then and laid the check on the table in a black

leather folder. Austin and I both reached for it, his hand landing on top of mine.

“I"ve got this,” he said.

“I can pay. It"s no problem.”

“You paid last night.”

“It was just a bottle of wine.”

“That bottle of wine was expensive.” He grinned. “And so was I.”

I shivered. “Yes, but you were well worth it.”

“Well, when I"m off the clock, I"m a gentleman. I"m not making a lady pay.”

I laughed. “So you"re not a gentleman when you"re on the clock?”

“Of course I am,” he said. “I"m just not expected or allowed to foot the bill.”

“Why don"t we go Dutch this time?”

Hand still over mine, Austin leaned toward me and lowered his voice. “To be

completely serious, you"re the first woman in I don"t know how long who"s sat

through a date with me, knowing full well what I do for a living, and treated me like

a human being.” His other hand slid under mine and pulled the check free. “I don"t

want that to cost you a dime.”

I swallowed, watching him pull his bank card out and slip it into the folder.

“Okay,” I said quietly, “but the next one"s on me.”

He winked. “We"ll see about that.”

The waitress came and took the check. A moment later, she returned. Austin

signed the receipt, and we put on our coats. As we headed out the door, he laced his

fingers between mine, and we exchanged smiles.

Outside in the crisp evening air, he said, “So where do you want to go?”

I could think of at least one place
. I cleared my throat. “Oh, I don"t know. We

could just walk and see if anything looks interesting.”

“We can do that.”

I couldn"t say which of us picked a direction or if we just started walking

without thinking, but hand in hand we strolled down the sidewalk. We made light

conversation for a while before Austin stopped in front of a store window. I thought

something had caught his eye, but instead of checking out the display, he looked at