Escorting the Actress (The Escort Collection Book 2) (11 page)

T
here was a man holding a sign
:
JORDAN.

"Here we are," I told Lowell. I nodded toward the driver.

She looked at me quizzically. "Why does it say your fake last name?"

"We're trying to be incognito, right? Plus, I need to alpha this"—I pointed from me to her—"up a little bit. I gotta take the lead." I grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the driver.

"I'm Evan," the driver said, flashing us a smile and shaking our hands. He was six-foot-three and had the neck of an NFL linebacker. "Tori arranged for me to drive you while you're here. I'll bring you out to the car and have your luggage brought out."

We settled into the back of an enormous Range Rover. Lowell was studying my face.

"If Tori made the reservations, how did he have your last name?" she asked.

I smiled and patted her head. "Because Tori and I finally met last night over Skype. I told her that we needed this trip to look like I was pursuing you—hard. I want it to be big. Romantic. Grand gestures, Lo. Grand gestures."

"You talked to Tori?" She looked mystified.

"Yup. I Skyped with her on your laptop while you were packing."

Lo furrowed her brow, looking more suspicious than mystified now, and her phone buzzed. She glared at it. "Tori," she answered angrily. "We just landed. You didn't tell me you talked to
Kyle
. On
Skype.
"

She was quiet for a minute, and I heard Tori's muffled voice talking in what sounded like her normal, excited tones.

"Well, what if that's not okay with me?" Lo huffed.

Now Tori's tone sounded pleading.

Lo rolled her eyes, but her expression softened, just as it always did when she spoke to her friend. "No, I know… I know, Tor. I'm not mad." She looked at me and frowned. "At you."

They talked for a few more minutes while Evan arranged our luggage and pulled out into the airport traffic.

"I understand I'm taking you to the Stratum," he said after Lowell had hung up. "Have you stayed there before?"

"No," Lowell and I said in unison.

He smiled at us in the rearview mirror. "You're in for a treat. It's impressive."

I turned to Lo and smiled. "See? Impressive. I'm all about the impressing."

"You and Tori better watch it," she said through gritted teeth. "Or you're both gonna get voted off the island."

"You'd miss me," I said, making sure my dimples were on full display. "Admit it."

"I admit nothing," she said under her breath.

I watched her face as she examined the unfamiliar skyline of Boston. We drove through what appeared to be the financial district, and a few minutes later, Evan maneuvered the SUV down Newbury Street and pulled up in front of a massive, opulent building. I looked at the Stratum, impressed, and let out a low whistle.

Just then my phone vibrated. I pulled it out, a pit of dread in my stomach.

You just landed, correct?

Please come see me at my office. Immediately.

The address for an office building located within MIT followed shortly thereafter.

Evan looked back at us expectantly, but Lowell must have seen the pure dread on my face.

"I think there's been a change in plans," she said. "What is it?" she asked me quietly.

"My father wants to see me. Now." I turned to her. "I'm going to have Evan take you upstairs. I'll be back soon."

Lowell shook her head. "I'm coming with you. If Pierce doesn't want to see me, I can wait for you outside or in the car. But you're in trouble because of
me
. I'll be there even if it's just for moral support." She squeezed my hand, and the despair I felt was somewhat eclipsed by her warmth and the fact that she was standing by me.

I nodded. "Okay. But you might wanna stay out of sight, at least for now." I gave Evan the address in Cambridge then leaned back, preparing for what would surely be an ugly family reunion.

U
nfortunately
, MIT was right across the Massachusetts Avenue bridge, close to Newbury Street. I was sitting outside his office sooner than expected and certainly sooner than I was ready for.

In spite of her objections, I'd deposited Lowell at a coffee shop nearby, filled with students getting their caffeine fix and solving math theorems.

"I need to do this alone," I'd said as I grabbed her hand. "At least I know you're here."

She'd nodded, but her eyes told me she felt guilty and worried.

"It's gonna be okay," I'd said, sounding much more confident than I felt.

I was pretty sure that the MIT campus was lovely, but I couldn't concentrate on my surroundings. All I could feel was the throb of my nerves. It'd been almost a year since I'd seen my father. A year since he'd cut me off from our family fortune. Months since I'd started hooking. I hung my head, waves of nausea rolling through me.

The fact that I was about to see my father made my job seem more real and more horrible.

He poked his head out of his office door.

"Hey, Dad."

"Come in." His voice was all business, which did nothing to quell my rising dread. He closed the door behind me.

Pierce looked different. His hair was sparser, and he looked more rumpled. In California, he'd always taken time to hit the gym and hike in the canyon. The Boston version of Pierce looked haggard and a little thin, his usual tan faded, as if he'd been working non-stop.

I forgot about my dread enough to worry about him for a second. "Are you doing okay, Dad?"

He looked at me and scoffed. "You don't have to pretend you care. There's no one else here."

I felt my blood pressure spike, so I took a deep breath. Pierce had a way of getting under my skin. "Of course I care. You're my father."

"Did you care so much about me when you started dating your stepsister? Or should I say when you started being your stepsister's
hooker
? Were you wondering about my feelings when you decided to do that?" His voice was dangerous, the even tone masking the fury behind his words.

I took another deep breath. I looked my father in the eyes. "I didn't think about you then. All I was thinking about was how to support myself. It was survival mode, I guess."

"So you chose to become a prostitute?" He ran his hands through what remained of his hair, making it stick up in crazy directions. "Was that really the best you could come up with?"

Shame flooded through me, but I held his gaze. "I tried waiting tables. I got fired. I tried giving surfing lessons, but it wasn't enough money for an apartment and food. As you might remember, I have no skill set. The only things I studied were the bottom of a bottle, my surfboard, and the occasional hot model—okay, the more than occasional hot model."

He didn't say anything.

"I'm sorry I've disappointed you, but it's not like that's anything new, is it?" To my horror, I felt my eyes fill with tears. I took another deep breath and willed them back. I wasn't some stupid fourteen-year-old boy being chastised for another failing grade.

He watched my crumpling face, but I saw no softening on his. "I cut you off from your trust fund because you almost killed yourself, remember? When you stole my car and drove completely drunk? You're lucky to be alive. You're lucky you didn't kill someone. What kind of father would I be if I hadn't taken action? What would your poor mother have said if she'd lived to see that?" He sat back in his chair. "If I hadn't done it then, son, I wouldn't ever have done it, and I was worried the next phone call I got from the police would be telling me that you were dead."

I scrubbed my hands over my face. "I know I've made some bad decisions—a lot of bad decisions—and I understand why you did what you did. I was out of control."

Pierce nodded. "It's a first to hear you say that. But that doesn't make it okay that you're… hooking. Or whatever you call it. And whatever it is you're doing with Lowell—that's just beyond my comprehension." He pinched the bridge of his nose as he always did when he was really frustrated, as though he was trying to open his airways to get more oxygen to his brain.

As if that was gonna help his son not be a hooker.

"The escort job just sort of fell into my lap. It wasn't like I had a lot of other options at the time. And I've only done it for a few months," I said quickly. I wished that I didn't feel as though I owed him an explanation, but now that we were sitting across from each other, the words just poured out. "But this thing with Lowell is different. She called the service I work for because she needed to hire someone for PR. She was in a bind. I've been helping her—strictly business. And I've already left the escort service. I'm doing this just to help her now."

Pierce's eyes softened but only for a moment. "I studied up on her. She was in trouble because she was drunk in public, right? And she threw up on a police officer?"

"That's right. It was a PR disaster."

Pierce snorted. "Obviously. But did she really think hiring a prostitute would save the day?"

"She's smart, Dad. She understands how the industry works. It's like if you flash something shiny in front of them, they get confused and can't remember what they were doing."

"And you're the shiny thing." He pinched the bridge of his nose again. "But this is all for show? The relationship part that the press is having a field day with?"

I nodded.

"What does her mother have to say about it?"

"She doesn't know. She's out of the country right now."

"Lucky her."

I waited until he removed his hand from the bridge of his nose. "Dad?"

He sat up straight and looked at me. "You need to stop working for her and never go back to that… lifestyle… again. We can make some sort of arrangement. I realize that I might have been too harsh. Cutting you off like that wasn't the right thing to do. I didn't give you any options. I should have made you get a job and go to school."

"You'd already given me options. You tried, remember? I was stubborn. I wasn't ready to grow up. But I've changed—this experience changed me."

"Please." He winced and held up his hand to stop me. "I don't want to know."

We were both quiet for a minute, but I realized that the pit in my stomach had dissipated. Telling my father the truth felt good.

"I'm thinking of where I can use you right now. I could actually use some help in the publicity department for my new app launch." He pointed at the office around him, which was bare and academic, holding just a messy bookcase and a scarred desk. "People I'm working with are great, but they're not public-image savvy. I'm hiring an agency… maybe you could be my liaison with them. Help me get the exact branding I'm looking for."

I was stunned. Not only was my father offering me a job, he was offering me a job that I actually understood. "Dad. Wow."

He actually smiled at me. "Does that sound like something you'd be interested in?"

"It does."

"Maybe I'm not such a crap father after all." He sat back, satisfied. "You start tomorrow, Kyle. Be here at eight. I'll give you a synopsis of the app, and we can talk about branding. Then you can make arrangements to meet with the agency."

"Tomorrow? I can't. I can't come to work for you until I finish this thing with Lowell. I told you, I'm not an escort right now—I'm being a friend. She needs me. At least until she starts shooting again. Her premiere's coming up. Maybe I can still go to that with her…"

Pierce shook his head. "No, son. This stops today. I'm making you this offer based on the assumption that you're leaving your current situation behind. No more Lowell Barton. I told you before: I can't have you dating your stepsister, especially when it started out as you
hooking
. I have a feature in
Forbes
coming up. I'm launching this app in a month. You can't do this to me. Especially not with that girl." He scrubbed his hand across his face. "We're lucky the press hasn't found out about you already."

"I can't just walk away from her." I heard the stubbornness in my own voice.

"It sounds like you have feelings for her." I didn't say a word as he leaned across the desk and held my gaze. "You grew up with her. I was married to her
mother
. You are—were—her
escort.
If the press gets a hold of this, it'll be the end of her career. Don't you get that what you're doing is wrong?"

"Don't you mean the end of
your
career?" My eyes held his, but he didn't flinch. "Don't pretend to care about hers."

"I'm not pretending. I don't care about hers, but I'm trying to reason with you. For all the good that's ever done me."

I scrubbed my hands over my face; I suddenly felt as tired and worn-out as my father looked. "What I'm doing with her isn't wrong. And with all the bad things I've done, I should be a pretty good judge of that." I stood.

"Wait." My father stood too. "I just want you to stop seeing her. Yes, I have that profile coming up, but it's not only about that. You're my son. I don't want you… struggling. Come work for me. If you show up every morning and show me that you're responsible now, not only will I give you a competitive salary, I'll reinstate your trust."

Whoa.
Of all the outcomes I'd expected from this meeting, my trust being dangled in front of me wasn't one of them. What he was offering me was enormous.
A real job. My money back, my security back. I could afford to take Lowell to Hawaii, just like we'd talked about.

But I couldn't just leave her.

"I won't do that to her. I made a commitment. For once, I'd like to know what it feels like to not disappoint someone." I headed to the door. "We're here for a couple of days. If you want to have dinner or something, just text me."

Pierce snorted again. "That'd be real fun. One big happy family."

"Yeah, that'd be a first, huh?" I started to walk out.

"If you don't do what I ask, I'll make sure you regret it."

I turned toward him. "Really, Dad? You're gonna be like
that
?" I was exhausted again. He was like a child who wasn't getting what he wanted and was about to throw a massive, potentially dangerous temper tantrum. "I'm not saying
no
. I'm just saying I can't do it right now."