The Rebound Guy (9 page)

The waiter brought the bill, and before he could pull out his wallet, Asia had already slid a credit card onto the plastic tray.

“I have more than one suit,” Dex said. “I’ll even make sure to brush all the dog hair off.” He grinned to let her know that he hadn’t taken offense.

Her eyes widened with mortification. “I wasn’t implying...” She shook her head. “I’m so sorry. I hate that I’m coming across as pretentious, because I’m really not.”

He waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

She signed the credit card slip and thanked the waiter, then turned her smiling eyes back his way. “My baby sister keeps me grounded. She’s quick to tell me if I start sounding like a snob. If I say something to offend you, please let me know. I have been known to put my foot in my mouth a time or two.”

“I can’t see that happening.”

“Just give me a minute.” She laughed.

She may have a bit of that Wall Street polish, but Dexter had caught a snapshot of her down-to-earth side. It was there in that uninhibited way she laughed at herself.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you Friday night,” he said.

“It’s a date. One that I’m paying for.” Her face suddenly crumbled. “Oh, God, how pathetic is that? I am actually paying a man to date me. This crosses into pitiful territory.”

Dexter came around the table and pulled her chair back. “Look at it as a consultant fee, which is exactly what it is, even though you’ve turned down my offers for consultation.”

She stood, cocked her head to the side. “A consultant fee does sound a little better.”

“You’ve been hurt, Asia,” he said close to her ear. She smelled like citrus and something sweet. Honey, maybe? “It’s okay to do something just for you, even if it’s hiring someone who will tell you just the right things so that you’ll feel better about yourself. Everyone can use a little flattery every now and then.”

Asia turned to him, a small smile tracing across her lips. “I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right. This is my job.”

“Ah, that’s right. Silly me. I forgot I was dealing with a professional.”

They walked down to Water Street, and Dexter hailed her a cab. She slid into the back seat, but halted his hand as he went to close the door.

“Thank you again, Dexter.”

A jolt of awareness arced between them, his skin tingling where her soft fingers touched him.

“I haven’t done anything yet,” Dex said. “You can thank me Friday night after we show that ex of yours just what he’s missing.” He winked and closed the cab door.

Dex stood on the curb for a moment, staring at the yellow cab as it blended into the sea of identical vehicles clogging the Lower Manhattan thoroughfare. He pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Asia was not his typical client, in more ways than one. But, so far, she was definitely the most interesting.

Chapter Six

Asia pulled up to the yellow and white wood-frame duplex in Morgan Village, the Camden, New Jersey, neighborhood to which she and her mother had relocated right before India was born. She spotted her mother on the narrow front porch, watering a flourishing fern.

Asia got out of the Smoky Quartz Infiniti G37 that she kept—and paid an exorbitant fee to park—solely so she could make the two-hour trip down the New Jersey Turnpike. She usually came once a month, but after the week she’d had, she was in desperate need of some mommy love.

“You mind some company?” Asia called.

Her mother turned, set the watering can down, and ran off the porch, wrapping Asia in a bear hug. Anyone catching an eyeful of their public display would never believe they had seen each other just two weeks earlier when both Asia and India had visited from New York.

“What are you doing here?” her mother asked when she finally let her go. “I didn’t expect to see you for another few weeks.”

“I just felt like seeing you,” Asia said. “It’s okay, isn’t it?”

“What kind of question is that? I’m just surprised to see you in the middle of the week.”

They started up the walkway and peace flooded Asia’s being. Once she could afford it, Asia had offered to help her mother move to a more affluent neighborhood, but Lydia Carpenter was as proud as she was beautiful.

A part of her was happy her mother had never accepted. She would have missed this place, so full of good memories, despite the nights she recalled of doing homework by candlelight and days when they found themselves eating SpaghettiOs for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. What the house lacked in resources, it made up in love.

She followed her mother up the porch steps, clinging to her hand. “I see the security light is fixed,” she commented.

“I would have eventually gotten to it myself.”

“Sure you would have.” Asia laughed. India had pointed out the broken security light when they’d visited last. Asia had called the handyman the next day.

“Thank you for taking care of the light,” her mother said. “But could you run it by me next time?”

“Of course,” Asia said. They both knew it was a lie. She had stopped asking permission years ago and now just sent people to do repairs. It was the easiest way to get things done when dealing with stubborn people.

“So, what are you doing here on a Thursday afternoon?” Her mother squeezed her hand. “It’s not like you.”

“I know.” Asia shrugged. “I’ve been putting in a lot of hours at the office; I deserve a little vacation time.”

Her mother hesitated before cautiously revealing, “India told me you took the morning off one day last week, too.”

Asia rolled her eyes. “I should have known.”

“What happened? She said that Cortland stripped the apartment clean and snuck out in the middle of the night.”

“Wrong and wrong.” And typical. India’s version of any story had extra drama added. “Cortland did not strip the apartment clean, he took only his things.” And several bottles of wine he had given
her
as supposed gifts. “And he could have left in the middle of the day for all I know.” Asia pulled away from her mother and leaned on the porch railing, looking toward the street. “It doesn’t matter. Cortland and I are done. He...he isn’t the man I thought he was.”

“Well, he isn’t the man I thought he was, either. I never saw him as one to cut and run. Not as if I’m good at pinpointing that type, either,” her mother said, and stuck her tongue out.

Asia laughed, her spirits instantly lifting at the thought of how far her mother had come.

It had taken her mother years before she could speak of her abandonment without breaking down. Left to raise two daughters on her own with no money and barely any skills outside of being a homemaker, Lydia Carpenter had struggled to keep it together. She had been blindsided by her husband’s betrayal.

Like mother, like daughter.

Maybe it was ingrained in her not to see what had been staring her in the face. Maybe she had purposely missed cues from Cortland, subtle indications that he wasn’t happy.

Asia bristled with anger, disgusted at herself for making excuses for that bastard. It was what her mother had done for years after her father left, but Asia knew better. There was no excuse for what Cortland had done. If he had been unhappy, he should have been man enough to tell her, not sneak around behind her back, making a fool of her.

She would show both Cortland and Nina that she was no one’s fool.

“I must say that you’re holding up well.” Her mother clipped off a few browned fern leaves. “Either you are an amazing actress, or you’re not as upset about the broken engagement as I expected.” Her mother gave her a pointed look. “Remember, I attended every one of your school plays, so I’m familiar with your acting ability, or lack thereof.”

Asia choked out a laugh. “Thanks a lot,” she said. “Make no mistake, I’m still plenty upset.” She shrugged. “But what can I do? He made his choice. I’m not going to beg Cortland to stay with me if he doesn’t want to.”

“That’s my girl. You are always so strong, Asia,” she said wistfully. “So much stronger than I ever was.”

Asia smiled. “You’re wrong. I inherited that strength from you.”

“You will have no problem finding someone else,” her mother said. “Someone who will appreciate you more than Cortland ever did and who will treat you the way you deserve.”

She already had. He would treat her exactly the way she wanted to be treated, and it was only costing her ten thousand dollars.

“Can we change the subject?” Asia asked. “I’d like to take my mind off my love life for a while.”

Her mother bit her bottom lip, a tentative smile pulling at her lips. “Do you mind if we talk about mine?”

“Your what?”

“My love life. I actually have one now,” her mother said, her face lighting up with her smile.

“Since when?”

“Since Mr. Becker asked me out to dinner last week. I guess I shouldn’t call it a
love
life since we’ve only been on one date.”

“Mr. Becker? My old science teacher?” Her mother nodded. “But I thought he was married?”

“He’s divorced now. It became final right before school let out for Thanksgiving break.”

Her mother had been the administrative assistant at Morgan Village Grade School since the days when they were still called secretaries, but Asia had never seen her show even a hint of interest in any of the male faculty.

“Mr. Becker is a good catch,” Asia said, impressed. “Every sixth-grade girl had a crush on him.”

“Well, he’s lost a bit of hair since you were in the sixth grade, but he’s still hot.”

“Mother!” Asia exclaimed, then laughed at the blush that instantly crept up her mother’s neck. She enveloped her in a hug. “I think it’s wonderful. Even if it’s a little weird.”

“We’re going out again tonight,” her mother said.

“On a school night?” Asia’s brows shot up. “Scandalous.”

That earned her a playful slap on the arm.

“We’re going into Philadelphia for a special orchestra concert at the Kimmel Center. Come help me pick out something to wear.”

Once in her mother’s bedroom, they giggled and argued over possible outfits, just as they had back during those disastrous yearly shopping trips before the start of school. They settled on demure pink pearl earrings—a Christmas gift from Asia—and a severe navy blue sheath that wouldn’t make her mother look like, in her words, “a desperate woman on the make.”

Because her mother had never been one for makeup, Asia had to make do with the eyeliner and the delicate pink lip gloss that she had in her purse.

“The next time I’m in town, we’re going to Sephora.”

“I have no idea what a Sephora is.”

Asia suppressed an eye roll. How had she ended up so different from her mother and India, both of whom had a complete disregard for style?

Yet when Mr. Becker pulled up to the curb behind Asia’s Infiniti, suddenly, her mother didn’t need any makeup. Her eyes brightened with anticipation and the glow of her skin was nearly blinding.

“Look at you!” Asia teased.

“Oh, stop.” Her mother’s cheeks flushed.

Gratitude to her old science teacher tugged at Asia’s heart. If anyone deserved joy, it was her mother.

Asia pulled her in for a swift hug. “Let’s not keep your date waiting.”

As they were walking out of the house, Asia received a text message from Helena informing her that Noah, II had returned to the Mandarin Oriental to try to “smooth things out” with the hotel manager on his own.

Asia nearly growled out loud. She texted back that she was on her way and would handle the situation personally. She pocketed her phone before greeting Mr. Becker. Asia kissed her mother again, then she got into her car. She checked the gas gauge to make sure she was set for the two-hour drive home and then took Black Horse Pike south to pick up the Turnpike north to New York. Once the toll road had merged with I-95, Asia clipped on her Bluetooth. She considered calling the hotel, but scratched that idea. Her impending discussion with the hotel manager would be best handled in person. She just needed to get there before the man left for the day.

Instead, she called her sister.

“Hey,” India said.

“Studying?” Asia asked.

“Yes, but I can take a break. Why? What’s up?”

“Did you know mom was dating Mr. Becker?”

“My old Earth Science teacher? That Mr. Becker?”

“That’s the one.”

“Get outta here,” India said. “He’s a hottie. Go, Mom!”

“I just left them. They’re on their way right now to hear the Philadelphia Orchestra.”

“You went to Camden without me?” India screeched.

Asia grimaced. She should have expected the outrage. “Sorry.”

“That is so wrong, Asia.”

“You know you should be studying. But if you want to see Mom that badly, I’ll buy you a train ticket for this weekend.”

“Or you can just let me use your car.”

“After last time’s scratched fender? Never again,” Asia said.

“Fine,” India drawled. “So, is Mr. Becker still hot?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“
Niiice
. Maybe if things don’t work out between him and mom, you can make a play for him.”

“I don’t need to resort to dating my grade school teachers, thank you very much.” Asia bit her lip, debating the wisdom of sharing her other piece of news. “I, uh, called Dexter Bryant.”

“Who?”

“You know, the guy you sent to my office.”

“The Rebound Guy! Tell me all about him. What’s his plan to help you get your mind off that piece of shit you were engaged to? Is he as hot as that writer said?”

“Will I get a chance to speak?” Asia asked.

“Yes. Speak. I want to hear all about it.”

Asia ate up the miles on the Turnpike, explaining her plans to use Dexter as her new showpiece. “I want to show Cortland that I can get a man to want me—one who is ten times hotter than he is.”

“Is he really that hot?”

“God, yes,” Asia breathed. Her stomach clenched just at the thought of Dexter Bryant and his overwhelming hotness.

“So why are you pretending?”

“Make no mistake about it. This is all pretend. Our worlds do not mix. Example number one, his other job is walking dogs.”