The Rebound Guy (7 page)

Folding both hands under her chin, Asia studied him for a moment before saying, “I must say it’s an interesting concept.”

He barked out a laugh. “You think it’s bullshit.”

“I did not say that.”

“But that’s what you’re thinking.”

Asia lifted her shoulders in a light shrug. “I am not here to judge. I just offered to hire you, remember?”

“But you don’t want to use my full range of services,” Dexter pointed out. “All you’re looking for is a stand-in stud.”

“My situation is different from your typical client’s.”

His assessing gaze seemed to see right through her. “I’m not so sure about that,” he murmured.

Asia ignored the heat that flashed across her skin as she reached for her forgotten coffee and took a sip, grimacing as she swallowed the lukewarm liquid.

“I have another question for you,” she said, pushing the cup aside. “You claim that you’re not an escort.”

“I’m not.”

“So, I take that to mean that, uh...sex isn’t included in your services?”

His grin broadened. “It’s extra.”

Her lips parted in shock. “So, you
are
an escort.”

Dexter tipped his head back, expelling a frustrated breath. “If you’re asking if I’ve ever had sex with a client—”

“That’s what I’m asking.”

“Yes, I have. Sex is sometimes a part of the equation, but not always.” Dexter splayed his fingers out on the table, clenching and releasing them. “Look, one component of building a woman’s self-esteem is showing her that she is still an attractive, sexual being. But I do not sleep with every client, and definitely not with the clients who I feel will not be able to detach themselves emotionally.

“In fact, if I get the sense that a client is particularly vulnerable, I recommend she see a certified therapist. I know my limits, and I know that I’m not equipped to provide the kind of help that some women may need.” One shoulder lifted in a casual shrug. “But with clients whom I believe can handle it, yes, sex can be a part of it.”

He held both hands up. “I’m upfront about it from the very beginning. I make sure before ever taking that step that the client fully comprehends where things stand. Whether we become physical or not, my clients know that I am providing a service, and when the time comes to end it, we end it.”

“There’s a time limit?”

“One month,” he said. “If I can’t repair the damage cause by the previous relationship in one month’s time, I can’t repair it at all.”

“Do you give a refund if you fail?”

“That’s never been an issue. Every single client has left completely satisfied.”

Asia was mortified at the way her nipples instantly tightened. Her hand shook slightly as she reached for the coffee again and downed the rest of the liquid in one gulp.

Her work phone buzzed with an incoming text message.
Thank goodness
. It gave her something else to focus on instead of Dexter’s perfectly shaped lips and arresting light-brown eyes.

“Dammit,” Asia cursed as she read the text message. “I need to go.”

Dexter nodded toward the phone. “Was that one of your ex’s issues, too? Did he have a problem with you being married to that BlackBerry instead of being married to him?”

His eerily accurate remark hit its target. Asia pushed away from the table and stood.

“Do you need some time to consider my offer?” she asked as she slipped her purse over her shoulder. “I’ll need to know rather quickly. As I mentioned earlier, the company mixer is Friday night.”

His hazel eyes sparkled as one eyebrow arched in amusement.

“Consider me your rebound guy.”

Chapter Five

Dexter strengthened his hold on the four dog leashes clutched in his fists as he steered his pack around a cluster of kids blowing and catching bubbles. He traveled along the base of the hill that led to the Prison Ship Martyrs Monument in Fort Greene Park, his favorite dog park in Brooklyn.

Two teens on skateboards whizzed by and set all the dogs to barking and struggling to break loose.

“Heel,” Dex commanded.

He usually enjoyed his late afternoon groupings, but today Dex was counting the minutes until he could return the dogs to their owners. He’d left a message on Alena’s voicemail soon after leaving the Wall Street–area coffee shop this morning, and he had a feeling the half-dozen times his phone had vibrated in his pocket in the past half hour was Alena returning his call.

As the scorching July sun beat down on him, Dex swiftly made his way through Clinton Hill, delivering dogs from that neighborhood before heading back to his own. He’d just turned the corner of Sixth Avenue when he spotted Alena walking up from the Bergen Street subway platform.

“Why haven’t you answered your phone?” she asked from several yards away.

“Hello to you, too,” Dex said when he caught up to her, planting a kiss on her cheek.

She slapped him away. “Move. You smell like dog. Now who is this woman who offered you ten thousand dollars to shag her for a month?”

“Who said anything about shagging her?” Although that thought had crossed his mind about a hundred times since he’d left Asia earlier this afternoon. “And does anyone use the word ‘shag’ anymore?”

“Cut the bull,” Alena said. “Let’s go to your place so you can shower and tell me about this.” She looked down at his feet. “Hi, Roxie. Stay away from my shoes.”

Roxie let out a yelp. She and Alena had a love-hate relationship. Alena hated Roxie. Roxie loved Alena’s designer shoes.

She filled him in on a new story she was working on for her blog as they walked the several blocks to his building. Once inside his apartment, Alena headed straight for his fire escape, coming inside a moment later palming a ripe Black Krim heirloom tomato from his clay pot garden.

Dex filled Roxie’s water bowl and then headed for the bathroom. He left the door ajar so he could continue to listen to Alena while he stripped out of his clothes. Just as he shucked his sweats and briefs down his legs, Alena walked into the bathroom.

“Hey,” he said. “You mind?”

She pointed to his crotch. “You have the wrong equipment, remember?”

Dex grinned.

One of the most profound insights that arose from those weeks Alena had spent as his client was that her previous relationship hadn’t lasted because her ex was the wrong sex.

She leaned against the door jamb. “So, what’s the deal with this chick? Is she ugly?” she asked before biting into the plump tomato.

“Ugly shouldn’t even be a word in her vocabulary.”

“Is she gay and doesn’t know it?”

“I don’t think so,” he said, stepping into the shower.

“So what’s her deal?” Alena called.

“I think she’s just not used to being dumped,” Dex shouted over the noise of the running water.

He quickly washed himself, foregoing his usual shoulder massage since he was sure Alena would come in the shower to get him if he lingered for too long. He stepped onto the bath rug and accepted the towel she held out for him.

“Asia Carpenter is gorgeous and successful. I think her fiancé leaving her for another woman shook her. She wants me to help her make him jealous.”

Her lips pursed in a smile. “She sounds like your perfect client.”

Dex shot her a look as he tucked the towel around his waist and headed for his bedroom. “You know I don’t want to just be some woman’s arm candy. I want to take this business to the next level.”

“The ten thousand dollars she’s offering should help,” she pointed out as she followed him into his bedroom.

“It’s not about the money.”
Even though he could use it
. “It’s about my image.”

He dressed in a t-shirt and another pair of sweats, and the two of them headed out of the bedroom, Alena to the living room, and him to the kitchen. Dex grabbed a beer and held it in the air as he continued to rummage in the fridge.

“Sure, bring me one,” Alena called.

He grabbed the second beer and a bag of grapes and joined her in the living room.

“Although I’m not too keen on being her stand-in stud,” he said, handing Alena her beer, “I think there may be a way for her to help me with my image.”

Her brows spiked in inquiry as she settled back in Dex’s leather recliner and took a pull on the bottle. Dex knew she’d picked that chair because it was Roxie’s favorite. She proved him right when she looked over at his dog and stuck out her tongue. Turning back to him, she asked, “So, how can Mama Warbucks help your image?”

“She works for Global Partners Public Relations,” he explained with a relaxed shrug that belied the enthusiasm he felt at the thought of what a partnership with Asia could mean for him. “I figure she can help me package my business. Maybe frame it so that people can stop thinking of me as some kind of gigolo.”

She pointed the longneck at him. “If you can convince her to help you figure out a way to legitimize your business
and
pay you ten thousand dollars, you, Dexter Bryant, will be the envy of men everywhere.”

He let out a crack of laughter as he reclined on the sofa and crossed his feet on top of his IKEA coffee table. “Just having her on my arm will make me the envy of men everywhere.”

“Does she look
that
good?”

“She’s not gay!”

“Fine! Whatever,” Alena said. “I’m in a committed relationship anyway.” Done with her tomato, she reached over and lifted the bag of grapes from his lap. “So, what’s there to discuss? It sounds as if you’ve already made up your mind.”

Dexter nodded, taking a long drink of the icy beer.

“You don’t seem very enthusiastic.”

Oh, he was enthusiastic, all right. The prospect of spending the next month pretending to be Asia’s love interest was enough to excite any man. Add in that he would earn money to help his sister
and
possibly solidify the plans for his relationship advising business, and he was nearing skin-bursting levels of excitement.

Yet the thought of being just an escort left a bad taste in Dex’s mouth.

It would be different if Asia didn’t actually
need
the consultation services he provided. Getting revenge on her ex was one thing—it was a natural inclination, especially after discovering that he’d cheated. But not recognizing that she should take time to heal after ending a four-year relationship told Dexter that she most definitely needed his consulting help.

But she didn’t want advice. She wanted a stud.

Dex finished off his beer and leaned his head back onto the sofa cushions.

“I guess I’m in it for the month,” he said. “I know I said I wouldn’t accept another client who wasn’t serious about really exploring her relationship issues, but the potential pay out here is just too good to pass up.”

Alena reached over and patted his knee. “Do what you have to do, Rebound Guy.”

***

Asia stood at the corner of Fulton and Front Streets, scrolling through her email as she waited for Dexter to arrive. Along with the cool breeze from the East River, a prickle of awareness raced across her skin. She looked up from the phone and spotted him walking toward her, his languid, yet bold, stride eating up the pavement.

Moisture flooded her mouth at the sight of him, and her pulse rate ratcheted up by at least a thousand. Why did he have to bring sexy to such an absurdly high level?

He’d traded the earlier khakis and white button-down for faded denim and a black t-shirt. He made the simple attire look so much better than it had a right to. As he approached, Asia questioned her previous decision not to take full advantage of
all
the services he offered. She had no doubts he would carry that confident swagger into the bedroom.

She chastised her hyperaware libido. It was her own fault that it was feeling neglected. She’d claimed exhaustion the last three times Cortland had tried to make love.

And she wondered why he’d turned to Nina?

“Good evening,” Dexter said as he came upon her.

“Good evening,” she answered. “First, let me apologize for cutting things short earlier today. I hope it didn’t inconvenience you too much to come back downtown.”

“The trains run to and from Brooklyn twenty four/seven,” he said.

Asia winced. He’d come in from Brooklyn. “Thanks for meeting me.”

He held his hands up. “No thanks required. It’s all part of the job. I’m at your service for the next month.”

That statement, along with that irresistible grin, did
not
help to quiet her libido.

“Do you want to sit here?” she asked, motioning to the cast-aluminum tables and chairs assembled on the sidewalk, which afforded her perhaps her favorite view of the Brooklyn and Manhattan Bridges.

He nodded, and they were seated by a waiter who knew Asia by name.

“I take it you come here often?” Dexter asked.

“Cortland and I ate here at least once a week,” she said.

“Is our being here your way of subtly getting the word out that you and your ex are no longer an item?”

Asia’s head went back with a sudden jerk. “Actually, the thought never crossed my mind. I’m just used to coming here, I guess. Cortland and I have eaten at this restaurant nearly every Wednesday night for the past two years.” Asia cringed. “Please stop me if I bring his name up too much. You don’t want to hear about what Cortland and I used to do.”

“Actually, I do. That’s a part of my job, remember?” The grin he sent her way was infectious.

“Well, I’m not looking for relationship advice, remember?” She returned his smile, then quickly wiped it away. This was not a date, she reminded herself. “I’d rather talk about you.”

“Me?”

“Yes. We need to get our stories straight: where we met, what you do, et cetera.” A couple walked passed them, so she lowered her voice. “Now, we can’t tell anyone that you’re a—what’s your official title again?”

“Relationship advisor.”

“Yes. That. I cannot introduce you to my co-workers as a relationship advisor.”

“I do have a second job,” he said.