Love Me Not (5 page)

“I don’t want any more relationship hassle. This is easier. I’m not anyone’s free ride—the price is set, and never discussed. And I know you won’t tell anyone.”

“But he chose more relationship hassle, didn’t he?”

“I shouldn’t be here,” she said. “This could ruin everything. I should just let you see me as one of your many…clients.”

“You’re my friend. I care about you,” I said, “even though I probably shouldn’t.”

“The ones you see only once, do you bother learning their names?”

“No. I only know certain ones.”

Her lips curved a little. The smile did not reach her eyes.

“Are you done deflecting?” I said.

Leaning against me, she looked at her lap.

“You can ask me as many questions as you want,” I said, “but I think you came here to talk about something other than me.” With a gentle hand, I lifted her chin. “What has you so upset?”

She rested her head on my shoulder, hid her face.

“I’m here for you,” I said. “You don’t have to be afraid or embarrassed.”

“I love that about you. Sometimes you can make me forget to try so hard. I don’t have to be perfect. I can just be me.”

My voice was soft. “I like when you’re just you.”

A long pause.

“It’s my sister,” she said. “He’s sleeping with my sister.”

There was nothing I could say to that. The best thing I knew how to do was hold her, be her friend.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “This is going to ruin everything.”

I spoke in her ear, the low voice women seemed to find sexy. “I’ll still want to screw you—if you still want it. And I don’t expect anything from you.”

She smiled against my shirt.

“Would you have lunch with me?” I said.

“That would be a first.”

“I do have to eat sometimes.”

“Cunnilingus?” she said with a grin.

I hadn’t thought Elizabeth was capable of a dirty sense of humor. “Very nutritional,” I said. “But I’m hungry again an hour later.”

“I’ll bet.”

She sat up, closer to her usual straight posture. “How do you do it? I mean, you’re always ready, no matter how many…appointments you have in a day.”

“You mean how do I stay hard.”

She gave me a look like I was being a pain in the ass.

“I find the loveliest part of a woman and focus on it.”

“But some of them aren’t very, uh, pretty, right?”

“Every woman is lovely. I just have to find what
specifically
makes her lovely.”

She smiled, finally her true smile. I still saw the river of pain underneath, but this smile was like the reflection in the water of the bright summer sky.

She stood and waited for me.

“Does this mean you’ll go to lunch?” I said.

She held out her hand.

We left out the back and walked toward the little Italian place around the corner.

I knew Elizabeth needed to talk more, needed to talk out her thoughts and options with someone. Now she was calmer, and I hoped the change of environment would help her to see me as her friend, not just the guy she paid to screw her.

Chapter 8

Rachel

The hostess led us to a small table on the patio. I just hoped Penny didn’t happen to walk by. She didn’t
usually
walk this way.

“I’ll be right back with your drinks,” the hostess said. “Will this be one check or two?”

“One,” I said.

The hostess walked away, and Elizabeth watched after her. “She’s pretty.”

I looked up from the menu. I honestly hadn’t noticed. How odd.

Elizabeth turned back to me. “So, I bet you’ve been with most of the girls around here.”

Talking about me seemed to ease her nerves. It was a little annoying, but whatever Elizabeth needed.

“No,” I said. “I pretty much just stick with my appointments.”

“Why?”

I grinned. “Are you saying I’m charming enough to get whoever I want?”

“Yes.”

I’d hoped she’d give me her
you’re being a pain in the ass
look and drop it. “I get enough satisfaction without having to go out and get more,” I said.

“You know I’m not that old. I remember what young men are like. I watch my daughter fight them off almost daily.”

“I’m not that young anymore.”

She reached across the table and touched my cheek. “You’re just a baby.”

The hostess returned with our drinks. Now I wished I’d ordered a beer, but I doubted this snooty-ass place served beer, only wine. I hadn’t had a drink in forever.

The conversation paused. I wasn’t sure how to get her onto the subject she needed to talk about.

“You don’t date,” she said, “do you?”

Fuck. This was what I got for trying to be friends.

“No.” I took a drink of soda. Okay, I didn’t want a beer—I wanted a shot.

“Why not?” she said.

“Would you want a guy who fucked dozens of women a week?” Maybe that would make her drop it. Then I added, “I’m sorry.” I shouldn’t talk to Elizabeth like that.

“Something happened to you.”

I looked away, out to the sidewalk streaming with Sunday shoppers. Sometimes I hated Sundays—very few appointments.

Her voice was quiet. “You don’t have to tell me.”

I knew it wasn’t fair. Here I was trying to urge her to talk, and I wouldn’t tell her this. I could talk about other things, just not this. Not even Penny knew all the details.

Several minutes of quiet. I half expected her to leave, to be pissed off at me. Penny used to get like that. She knew I couldn’t father children but not how that related to Cassie’s betrayal and death.

We ordered our meal. I was relieved when Elizabeth ordered, when she didn’t leave.

She sighed, and I turned from the conveyor belt of shoppers to her. She was sitting straight with her hands folded in her lap. This was the Elizabeth I knew. I respected her strength, but I felt privileged to have been allowed to see the crumble of that tenacious, willpower-driven façade.

“Are you ready to talk?” I said.

“That’s why you brought me out here, why you’ve tolerated my questions.”

“You don’t like to talk about yourself, but I know you need to talk.”

“We have those traits in common.”

I lowered my chin.

She huffed. “All right.” But then she stopped.

My voice was quiet, partially to be gentle with her and partially to make sure no one overheard. “How did you find out?”

Her shoulders slumped. “He smelled like her.”

“Lots of people wear the same perfume.”

“And then the other day I hugged her, and…His cologne is very distinctive. I bought it for him.”

“Did you ask her about it?”

“I didn’t know how. I only asked if she was seeing someone, and she said no. She has no reason to lie, unless…”

A pause. Her eyes were starting to tear, but her voice was still steady. “He said he was at a meeting yesterday—he didn’t come see Rachel cheer at the game—but I called his firm, and his secretary said he wasn’t in and there was nothing on his schedule.”

“Then you talked to your sister this morning and put it all together.”

“Why can’t he screw his secretary like a normal man?”

“He’s an asshole.”

One silent tear fell down her cheek.

I gave her a minute to pull herself together. I knew it would bother her to fall apart in public. Once she took a breath, I knew she was back in control.

“What are you going to do?” I said.

“I don’t know. I have to be careful.”

I tilted my chin curiously.

“Rachel, um, she’s not mine. I can’t have children.”

“She’s your sister’s,” I surmised.

“She got pregnant and wasn’t married. She knew I wanted a baby, so she let us adopt her.”

“And now you’re afraid of what your sister will do if you confront her.”

“Rachel doesn’t know.”

“Rachel is almost an adult.” Custody wouldn’t be a concern in a matter of months.

“But I’m not…What if she wants her real mother?”

“You are her real mother. You were there for bath time and story time, homework and projects that got finished at one a.m. Biology doesn’t make you a mom.”

Her lips curved a little. “I just hope she sees it that way.”

“Are you going to tell her?”

“I don’t know what’s right. Even before all this, I couldn’t decide. She has a right to know, but I’m scared.”

“Especially now.”

“I’d like to think my sister wouldn’t try to turn Rachel against me, but…”

“If she’s screwing your husband—” I realized how harsh that sounded and opened my mouth to rectify.

“I didn’t think she’d be capable of hurting me like that.” She took a breath. “But obviously, she is.”

“But she’s not flaunting the affair. You said she lied to cover it up. If she’s not trying to get your husband and his money, maybe there’s hope.”

“Most of the money is mine. He makes a good salary, but he spends most of it on his cars and suits and such.”

“Oh,” I said.

Wickedness curved those cute little lines around her eyes. “But that’s a fun thought—if it was his money, and I spent it on you.”

I grinned. “Let’s think of it that way.”

She held up her glass, and we toasted on it.

Then she set her glass down. “If your parents…If you found out your mother wasn’t your mother and your father wasn’t your father, wouldn’t that…mess with your self-image?”

I hadn’t ever really known my mother. She was already hospitalized when I was born. Penny was the only maternal figure I had. I didn’t know how to answer Elizabeth’s question. Thankfully, she went on, almost as if she knew, somehow, that the question was too hard for me.

“I just don’t want to hurt my little girl,” she said. “I don’t know when that got so complicated.”

“When your sister and husband decided to betray you.”

She sat back and stared at the white tablecloth. “I feel like all the people I should be able to trust are all of a sudden the most complicated people in my life.” She looked up. “Shouldn’t they be the easiest?”

“They never are.”

She paused, and I wondered if she realized how true I knew that statement to be. She took a deep breath and exhaled heavily.

“You don’t know what’s right yet,” I surmised.

“No fucking clue.”

“You know, you’re cute when you curse.”

Her lips curved a little. The smile didn’t reach her eyes.

I didn’t push the topic anymore. I saw she was going to be unsure of what to do for a while. At least she wasn’t crying anymore. Seeing Elizabeth’s tears was both hurtful and disturbing—she always seemed strong, or maybe just hesitant to let herself be seen. I just wanted to help her feel a little calmer, able to think things through, and I felt like I had.

After we ate, the waitress set the check on the table. Elizabeth reached for it, but I was faster.

“No,” she said as I took out my wallet. “I don’t want—”

“And I don’t want you paying for my meal when I invited you out. I get to be a gentleman on occasion.”

“You always are.”

“Right.” I stuffed some cash in the folder with the check and set it down on the table. The tip was a little big, but I didn’t feel like waiting for change. “Ready?”

She stood and draped her purse over her shoulder.

We walked in the direction of Penny’s shop. We’d sat at the restaurant for a while. Evening was looming.

“Where’d you park?” I said.

“In that lot by the sporting goods store. You don’t have to walk me. It’s out of your way.”

I guided her down the next walk. “I’m going in the back anyway.” As it was, Penny might’ve gone out looking for me. She complained I should at least get a cell phone. I could certainly afford it, but it went against my principles of no responsibility, of not being tied down to anyone, not even AT&T.

The rest of the walk was quiet. We stopped at her car.

“You can call the shop,” I said, “if you need anything.”

“I’ll probably see if I can make an appointment this week.”

“I mean if you need to talk.”

“I know. I just, I don’t want you to feel like you have to treat me special or something.”

“You are special.”

She rolled her eyes. “Always the charmer.”

I held in a defeated sigh. I wasn’t in the position to offer any real comfort.

“Well,” I said as I took a step back, “I’ll see you soon.” I turned.

“Heath.”

I looked back.

“Why do you do it?” she said.

“Do what?”

“Make money the way you do.”

I grinned wickedly.

“No, it’s more than that.” She hesitated, and I almost walked away. “Your
sister
schedules your appointments.”

“And?”

“There’s more to it all. I mean, what does she think about what you do?”

“She makes money off it.” I walked away.

Chapter 9

Candace And The Hotel Bitch

Monday was crazy. I had five two-hour appointments. I didn’t eat, had barely enough time to rinse off before the next woman was at my door. Three of them I’d never met before. I didn’t bother asking their names. It didn’t matter, and besides, I wouldn’t remember anyway.

The last woman arrived promptly at six. I was just drying off after my two minutes under the showerhead when she knocked. I wrapped the towel around my waist and answered the door. It seemed stupid to put on pants when they would be off again in a matter of minutes.

She stared at me.

She was in her late forties or so, another unsatisfied well-to-do housewife. She was in decent shape, wore a silk dress, and carried a Louis Vuitton bag. My regulars didn’t usually bring their purses in with them, just car keys and cash in their pocket. The new ones never knew what to do with their bags.

I lightly took her hand in mine, drew her into the room, and then closed the door behind her.

“Um, I’ve never done anything like this before,” she said.

I smiled a little and took the strap of her purse so I could set it on the table by the door. I’d bought the table solely for this purpose.

“I’m, um, I’m Candace.”

With a step closer, now standing against her, I murmured, “Nice to meet you.” Then I touched her lips with mine.