Gorgeous Consort (11 page)

“Hey, Patricia,” I said. “You look wonderful this evening.” I had to put on my professional face and be the charming guy she paid me for. In real life, I was nothing even similar to charming. I was a jackass most of the time.

“Thanks.” A slight tint came into her cheeks. “You do too.”

I extended my arm and put it around her waist. “Shall we?”

“Sure.” She walked beside me, having a difficult time in her heels.

I hated it when girls wore heels but couldn’t walk in them. Then why wear them at all? Harper wore heels often but she walked like she was wearing sandals. It was natural to her. “How was your day?” Small talk was the worst but I had to do it.

“Good,” she said. “Work was hectic.” Then she launched into a fifteen-minute account of some girl in the finance department being a bitch because she didn’t refill the paper tray for the printer. I nodded along and pretended to be interested. What was Harper doing? Maybe I could see her if the date ended early enough.

We reached the outside of the bar and she stilled in apprehension.

“You’ll be fine,” I said as I encouraged her. “You got me, remember?” I’d done this so many times that I knew how to read the signs. They felt pathetic that they had to hire a date, and it shook their confidence.

“Okay,” she said as she released a deep breath.

I opened the door for her and we walked inside. My hand immediately moved to her waist and I pretended that she was the only woman who existed.

“Over there.” She pulled me along with her, being affectionate with me.

We reached a table in the back, a large booth near the window. The lights were low and people were difficult to distinguish. Music was on in the background but I could still make out conversation. When we reached the table, I froze on the spot. A familiar brunette was sitting there, her hair curled and her blue eyes shining like gems. I would never forget that face as long as I lived.

Alexia.

Why the fuck was this happening to me?

I pulled myself together and pretended I hadn’t noticed her. And if I had noticed her, I didn’t care. I did a good job pretending she meant nothing to me at the grocery store.

“Hey, everyone,” Patricia said with a perky voice.

“What have you brought with you?” a blonde friend said, eye-fucking the shit out of me.

“This is my boyfriend, Troy.” Her attitude picked up when she saw the look of approval in everyone’s eyes.

Alexia knew I was an escort so she probably knew what was going on. Would she be a bitch and rat her friend out? Or would she let it go? I really had no idea what she would do. It didn’t make a difference to me. But I did wish I was nowhere near her. The nightmares finally stopped and now they would come back after looking at her face.

Patricia and I scooted into the booth, but once I was there, I wanted to leave. “Can I get you a drink, baby?” I turned to Patricia and gave her a fake look of affection.

“Cosmo, please.”

I stood up. “Can I get anything for you, ladies?” I asked politely.

“No, thank you.” The blonde batted her eyelashes at me.

“I can get my own. “Alexia slid out of the booth and stood up.

Now we were way too close together. Just being near her pissed me off. I wanted to run away, but I wanted to yell at her at the same time. I never had the opportunity to tell her how much she hurt me. I never got to scream.

Unsure what to say, I turned and walked away. I headed for the bar, grateful I could turn my back and drop my look of indifference. I was going to order a beer but now I might have to get a scotch. How would I survive this night? I had to control my hatred around Alexia but I had to pretend to be in love with Patricia at the same time. How would I ever pull this off? “Scotch,” I said to the bartender. “Make it a double. And a cosmo.” I hated it when girls drank fruity drinks. Harper drank gin—because she was hot.

“Your plan seems to be working.” Her dreamy voice reached me and scratched my ears like nails on a chalkboard.

I didn’t turn to Alexia. I stared straight ahead, making sure she didn’t feel important or special. “I just hope you aren’t a bitch and blow it.”

“Patricia is my friend. I would never do that.”

What the hell was taking the bartender so long?

“You seem flustered.” She came closer to me, her arm touching mine.

I recoiled like a snake. “Don’t touch me.” My words came out venomous.

She did as I asked but didn’t walk away. “This is going to be a long night if we can’t get along…”

“Why do we have to talk at all?” I snapped. “Just go away.”

She remained rooted to the spot. “You still hate me.” Resignation was in her voice.

I wanted to grab a chair and break it on the bar. Anger coursed through me in waves. My skull was about to split from the scorching heat burning from my brain. I wanted to strangle this woman and watch her die in my arms. “What the hell do you think?” I finally turned to her, seeing that comely face I wish had no effect on me. “You think we’re just going to be friends? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Her eyes were guarded and it was impossible to tell what she was thinking, like always. Even in our relationship, her inner thoughts were a mystery to me. Perhaps if I’d known, I would have predicted the epic way she ripped out my heart. “Troy, it’s been over a year. I just thought you would have let it go by now.”

“Let it go?” I released a laugh even though the situation was anything but funny. “We were together for three years and then you just left me. And you lied about it. I had to see you with some guy to figure out what really happened. And I was going to propose…I had the ring and everything.” Why did I tell her that? I was showing her my weakness and I hated myself for it. I was so fucking pathetic.

Her eyes softened for the first time in years. She regarded me differently, like she saw me as a new person. “You were going to propose…?”

“Why do you think I wanted to go to the Grand Canyon?” I spat. “Just because? I told you that place is just a dump and there’s nothing to see.”

Her eyes softened further. “That’s where you were going to do it?”

Why was I still talking to her? Why was I standing here? I was being paid to be someone else’s date, not stand here and go to battle with my ex. I hated the fact I was still attached to her, in some odd way. I hated the fact that when I looked at her, I still thought she was beautiful. “Fuck off, Alexia.” I grabbed the drinks the second the bartender put them down and hightailed it to my table.

Patricia grabbed the drink and took a sip. “What took so long?”

“I was talking to your friend Alexia. She’s very nice.” I put on a fake face and pretended my heart wasn’t broken all over again. Why did I have to tell Alexia I was about to propose? Why couldn’t I just let go of the past and move on?

Alexia returned to the table with her drink and sat right across from me.

I looked at anything but her, pretending she was a stranger. I kept my focus on Patricia, acting as a loving boyfriend that only cared about her. Her dress rose up when she sat down because it was already so short. But I didn’t look. I thought about the one thing that gave me comfort.

Harper.

***

The second I dropped off Patricia at her door, I called Harper. It was late but I wanted to see her.

“Muh?” she said on the fifth ring. She was clearly asleep.

“Did I wake you, sleepyhead?” I teased. The second I heard her voice I was in a better mood.

“Ugh…hmm.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “I don’t understand gibberish, Harper.”

“What do you want?” she finally said in a raspy voice.

“To see you, of course.”

“It’s almost one in the morning,” she argued.

“But I miss you.” I meant it. I meant it more than I realized.

“I’m too tired, Troy…”

“Can I sleep with you?” The last person I slept with was Alexia. The idea of sleeping so close to someone didn’t sound appetizing at all. But with Harper, it did.

“I’m not in the mood to get busy tonight.”

I laughed because she sounded half-dead. “I meant just sleep with you.” I didn’t want to be alone right now. I was too depressed. My conversation with Alexia was making me feel worse with every passing second.

“Okay,” she said. “But I look like hell right now.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Let me paint a picture for you,” she said. “Messy bun, plaid pajama bottoms, and a t-shirt stained with syrup.”

“Why syrup?” I asked.

“Because I love waffles, alright? Get off my case.”

“You could wash your shirt…” She was such an odd ball sometimes.

“Or I could just go to bed and not care.”

I kept walking then entered her apartment building. “I’m almost there. I suggest you change your shirt.”

“Nope. You’re dropping by, and I refuse to accommodate someone stopping by at one in the morning.”

“Then I’ll lick the syrup away.”

“You would,” she said.

I reached her door and knocked. “Your Prince Charming has arrived.”

“Wait until you see your Cinderella.” She hung up then opened the door. She wore baggy pajama bottoms and a gray t-shirt with an obvious brown stain right in the front. Her hair was a mess and her face was free of make up. “Damn, you look hot,” I said sarcastically.

She smacked my arm. “Shut up!”

I laughed. “Guys must be drooling all over you.”

“You know what? If you’re going to make fun of me then forget it.” She tried to shut the door.

I burst inside before she could keep me out. “I’m kidding.”

“Liar.”

My arms moved around her waist and I pulled her close to me. She stopped fighting me immediately and actually melted at my touch. I could feel it and see it. Then I gave her a warm kiss. It made me feel alive. When I pulled away, I rubbed my nose against hers. “You want the truth?”

“Always.”

“I think you look adorable.” I eyed the stain on the front of her shirt. “Even if you’re really messy.”

A genuine smile broke out on her lips. “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah.” My hand moved under her shirt and up her naked back. She wasn’t wearing a bra and I loved the feel of her soft skin. The petite muscles of her back excited me. I couldn’t explain why. “Can I join you in bed?”

“It’s a miracle I’m awake now.”

“When did you become an old woman?” I teased.

“When I got a big girl job and started having responsibilities.”

I rolled my eyes. “Why can’t you have both?”

She shrugged. “Too tired.”

“Well, let’s head to bed.” I scooped her up and carried her in my arms.

“My Prince Charming is carrying me over the threshold,” she said in a snooty voice.

I entered her bedroom and placed her on the bed with the rumpled sheets. “Do you dance in your sleep?” I asked when I examined the bed.

“I toss and turn sometimes…” She got under the covers and sighed.

I stripped off my clothes down to my boxers then I lay beside her. She had a queen bed, which was a downgrade for me. I slept in a California King because of my height and size.

She turned on her side and faced me. “So?”

“So?” I snuggled with her and pulled her close to me. Her leg was hooked over my waist and our chests were pressed together. Her hand moved up my stomach and rested on the skin over my heart.

“Why are you here at one in the morning unless you wanted to get laid?”

“I missed you.”

“And that’s it?” she asked incredulously.

I shrugged.

“What happened to honesty, Troy?” She gave me that firm look I’d grown accustomed to.

The sadness enveloped me like a fog and I suddenly couldn’t find any reason to be happy. And the fact I felt this way and was unable to fight it off made me feel worse. “I saw Alexia.”

Her stern expression softened and she looked at me with pity. Her hand moved up my chest to my shoulder. She rubbed the muscle gently before she dug her fingers into my hair and played with the strands. “I’m sorry, Troy.”

“Yeah…” I swallowed the lump in my throat and moved my hand up her waist until I reached the area of her ribcage. She was so small. My hand could take up her entire stomach. I could crush her if I really wanted to.

She stared at me, silently asking me to open up to her.

“I was with a client, and that client happened to be friends with her. I tried to ignore Alexia, but she cornered me at the bar and said she wished I didn’t hate her, that a year was long enough to get over what happened. But then I said something really stupid.”

“What?” she asked.

“I told her I was going to propose right before she dumped me. The look of pity she gave me…” I shook my head. “I wish I hadn’t said that. I wish I could have a do-over.”

“What’s done is done,” she said gently. “And I hope it made her feel terrible.”

I shook my head slightly. “I wish I didn’t care about making her feel terrible. I want to walk into a room with her and not even care that she’s there. That’s all I want. I don’t ask for much.”