Escort (A Standalone Romance Novel) (New York City Bad Boy Romance) (32 page)

“How’s
Mom doing?” Kristin, my sister, asks me as I sit smack in the middle of traffic
on my way back to the city.

“I
don’t know,” I tell her. “We talked for a while, but you know Mom. The most
emotional she ever gets is the use of the word ‘sweetheart.’ If she’s scared,
she’s not showing it. Me, on the other hand…”

“I’m
with you,” Kristin says. “Do they know anything yet?”

“They’re
doing some more tests,” I answer. “It looks like it’s going to be another day
or two before they have the hard facts on exactly what’s going on with it.”

“That’s
awful,” she says. “I would have been there last night, but I got caught up over
at Jed’s house.”

Jed,
my sister’s loser boyfriend, is her excuse for everything, but after spending
the night crying while my cancer-patient mother had to calm
me
down, I really don’t have the
patience for it. Fortunately for Kristin, my call waiting beeps at me.

“Hey,
can I call you right back? I’m getting another call,” I tell Kristin.

“Sure
thing,” she says. “Oh, when are you going to call that guy I told you about?”

“I’m
getting another call, Kris, bye.”

I
answer the other line.

“Hello?”

“Yes,
Miss Davis?” a man’s voice speaks.

“Yes?”

“You’re
the Miss Davis who owns the store, uh…”

This
is part of the reason for the name. It makes so many men
so
uncomfortable.

“Lady
Bits,” I say, “yes, I’m the owner.”

“This
is Jacob from Panic Room Security. It looks like there’s an alarm going off in
your store. The police are on their way, but I wanted to call and inform you of
the situation. Are you in or near the store?” he asks.

“No,”
I tell him. “I’m stuck in traffic. Do you know what’s going on?”

“It
looks like someone opened the front door without shutting off the alarm and
there’s been no attempt to enter your security code,” he says.

“Okay,”
I breathe, “okay. What should I do?”

“Right
now, I’d just encourage you to stay calm. The police are already on their way,
and they’re going to get to the bottom of this, all right? Please call and let
us know if you have any further questions.”

“All
right,” I say. “Thank—”

The
man’s already hung up the phone.

I’m
stuck in traffic.

I
call Linda.

“Jessica,
there’s something I have to tell you, but I promise it’s not as bad as it
sounds.”

“What?”
I ask. “Did you break into the store?”

“What?
No,” she says. “Well,
I
didn’t.”

“Who
did?” I ask.

“One
of the workers,” Linda says, “but he wasn’t trying to steal anything, he was
just trying to let us in so we could open up and they could get to work.”

“And
he thought that breaking in was going to be the smart way of going about that?”
I ask. “I told you that I’m on my way. The store doesn’t open unless I’m in it.
Who was it?”

“Jessica,
just take a breath. Nothing’s broken, everything’s all right. The guy just—”

“You’re
right,” I tell her. “It doesn’t really matter who it was. I’m going to have to
have a little talk with Eric when I get there.”

“He
had nothing to do with it,” Linda says. “In fact, when he found out what was
going on, he tried to stop—”

“Are
the police there yet?” I interrupt.

“No,”
she says.

I
pull onto the shoulder and put the gas pedal to the floor. Yeah, I’m breaking
the law, but some construction guy breaking into my store, the place I’ve sunk
so much time and money into, is about the last thing I need right now, and I
want to make sure to tell whoever it is that he’s fired before the cops have a
chance to arrest him.

If
Eric won’t get rid of the culprit voluntarily, I’ll just fire all of them and
go with the slob from IRP.

I
don’t fucking like people in my store when I’m not there. It’s bad enough when
I leave my own staff in there when I’m going out to lunch.

I
take the first exit which means I have to go through a bit more of the city,
but at least the traffic’s not as bad here. Still, it takes me almost half an
hour to get from the exit to the lot around the block from the store.

When
I come around that corner, the police are already gone. Meanwhile, Eric and a
couple of guys from his crew, as well as Linda, Ivanna, and Cheryl from my
staff are just standing around talking in front of the store.

It’s
not clear who the culprit was, but I know who’s responsible for him, so I walk
through everyone else and stick my finger in Eric’s face.

“I
don’t know what stupid shit you and your guys are trying to pull, but if you
don’t fire whoever broke in, I’m going to fire all of you and tell everyone I
know in the business community what happened. Hell, I’ll put out an ad, hold a
press conference. Do you understand me? Now, who was it?” I yell.

“Jessica—”

“
Miss Davis
,” I correct.

“Miss
Davis,” Eric says. “It was really just a stupid mistake. Nobody was trying to
hurt anything. My guy just got a little ahead of himself and thought he was
doing everyone a favor by letting us in so your people could open up and my
guys could get to work.”

“He
broke into my store,” I fume. “I don’t think that classifies as just a ‘stupid
mistake.’ I’d say that classifies as a misdemeanor, maybe a felony.”

“Jessica,”
Linda says, trying to butt into my bitch-out session, “it really was totally
innocent.”

“You’ve
got three seconds to fire whoever it was or you’re out on your ass,” I hiss at
Eric.

“Just
let me explain,” he says.

“Three,”
I start.

“I’m
not firing my man for just trying to get to work!”

“Two.”

“It
was me,” the stupid-looking one with the goatee says. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean
any harm, but I did it. When they found out what was going on, they tried to
stop me. They told me to get out of there. You can’t fire them, and I don’t
think you should put Eric through firing me. We’ve been working together for
years. That said, I know I screwed up and I don’t want to cause any more
trouble here than I already have, so boss,” he says, “I quit.”

“Alec,
what are you doing?” Eric asks.

“I
don’t know how you didn’t get arrested, but if you’re not out of my sight in
the next ten seconds, I’m pressing charges.”

This
time I don’t have to count. The man Eric called Alec turns and walks away.

“What
the hell was that?!” Eric shouts. “I get that a mistake was made here, and I
know that it was my team that was at fault, but that man has a family. You owe
him an apology!”

“I
don’t know where you get off, but that man broke into my store—”

“No,
he didn’t!” Eric shouts. “He just took the fall so you wouldn’t end up firing
the rest of us from what, I’ll be honest, has been one of the most aggravating
jobs I’ve ever had the misfortune to work on!”

“Maybe
it wouldn’t be so aggravating if you could get your people to stop screwing
around and finish the job!” I retort.

“Maybe
if you didn’t change the definition of what the job is twice a day, then that might
be possible. In the future, figure out what the fuck you want before you hire a
crew to work on it, because you’ve been forcing us to spin our wheels for
weeks!” he comes back.

“You
know what? Everyone go home. We’re closed today. In fact, we’re closed until
further notice. And you,” I put my finger back in Eric’s face, “you’d better
figure out some way to convince me that you and team are worth a shit or else
I’m going to make sure neither you nor any one of your people works in this
town again. You got me? You’ll be shoveling asphalt in Kennebunkport—”

“Really?”
Eric interrupts, “
That’s
your go-to
‘terrible place?’ I’ll let you know it’s gorgeous up there in the fall!”

The
sharp left turn has everyone else laughing, but it only serves to piss me off more.

“You
can take your jokes and shove them up your ass for all I care! Get the fuck out
of my way.”

I
push through everyone and try to outpace Linda as she follows me down the
block, but she’s persistent.

“Jessica,”
she says, “I don’t want to get in the middle of all this—”

“That’s
smart,” I snap.

“Listen,”
she says. “I know you’re upset, but this isn’t you. You never talk to people
like that. I’ve seen you pissed off before, but you always manage to keep your
head. What’s going on?”

“I
told you already,” I seethe. “Now leave me alone.”

“You
told me that someone in your family’s sick. It’s none of my business if you
don’t want to talk about it, but I’m worried about you.”

“I’m
fine,” I lie. “Leave me alone.”

“All
right,” Linda says. “But before you fire a crew that’s really been working hard
for you, just take some time to think it over, will you?”

I
know she’s trying to reach out, but this is not the time.

She
stops following me as I round the corner.

*
                   
*
                   
*

When
I get back to my apartment, I’m still furious. I get that the employee didn’t
break in to do damage or steal anything, but breaking in is breaking in, and I
hardly see how that’s acceptable.

Not
knowing what else to do with myself, I just sit down on my couch, break down
and cry.

This
is a shit day after a shit week, and there are no signs that things are going
to get better any time soon.

So,
I cry for a while, letting out my anger, frustration, fear and sadness, and
when I’m done, I just sit for a while, contemplating the world around me and
what the hell I’m supposed to do with it.

Then
my phone rings.

I
take a moment to collect myself and I answer.

“Yeah?”

“You
sound like shit,” Kristin, my sister says. “Are you all right?”

“Bad
day,” I tell her. “What’s up?”

“You
didn’t call back,” she says. “Are you at work?”

“No,”
I answer. “I closed up for the day. I’d really rather not get into it.”

“So
you’re home?” she asks.

“Yeah.”

“I’m
coming over.”

She
hangs up before I can tell her that I’m not really in the mood for company, and
I’m certainly not in the mood to hear her go on about how fucking great Jed is
supposed to be. Never mind the fact that I know better, I’m sick of her rubbing
in the fact that she has someone to go home to, something I haven’t even
considered a possibility in years.

Still,
I don’t call her back to tell her not to come by.

Whatever
the reason, part of me wants someone close by to tell me all kinds of wondrous
lies like, “It’s going to be okay,” and “Things will get better.”

The
doorbell rings about half an hour after the phone call and, as soon as I open
the door and see my sister standing there, I start crying again.

She
comes in and gives me a hug, telling me, “It sounds like we need to go out and
get drunk.”

“No,”
I tell her. “I haven’t been drunk in years, and I’m not about to fall into that
now.”

“Well,
I know you’ve always got a bottle on hand,” she says, knowing me well enough to
know that my gripe isn’t with throwing back a few drinks, but with going out in
public when I’m feeling like this. “Why don’t we crack it open and—”

I’m
already on my way to the kitchen.

So,
we drink and we talk. We talk about our mom mostly, but as the alcohol starts
to set in, the conversation shifts.

“You
know, Jed and I were talking,” she says.

“Oh
god, here it comes.”

“What?”
she asks.

“Nothing,”
I tell her. “What were you and Jed talking about?”

“Well,
we were talking about you, actually, and how much I want to see you find
someone that can be there for you when you come home and when things start
going to shit. Did you ever send a message to that guy I was telling you
about?”

“I
hate being set up,” I tell her. “It’s never worked out for me. The last time
someone talked me into meeting someone, I ended up watching a movie, sitting on
his futon and neither of us said one damn word to each other after the first
five minutes I was there.”

“Yeah,
that sounds pretty bleak,” Kristin says.

Now
she’s going to try to convince me that all of my problems can be solved by
finding Mr. Right-Dick.

“I
think the only reason I’ve been able to hold it together is because I have Jed
to lean on right now.”