Page 12 of Choosing Scarlet

I’m in trouble.

Xavier’s fingers slide between my folds. Slowly, like they always do. He’s one of those clients who genuinely gets off on my pleasure, which has always made him a favorite of mine. Any other day, this kind of touch would have me gasping, eager for more. He knows what he’s doing and how to build the tension until I can’t think straight.

Tonight, though, something’s different. My body doesn’t respond the way it should. The spark isn’t there, and no matter how hard I try to focus, I can’t find it. Xavier notices immediately. He lifts his head, confusion flashing in his eyes. His brow arches slightly as his fingers still.

“Is everything all right?” he asks quietly. “Am I doing something wrong?”

“No. Of course not,” I tell him quickly. Xavier isn’t doing anything wrong, per se. He’s the kind of man who listens and pays attention. That should make things easier, but instead, it only makes the moment more uncomfortable, because this has never happened to me before.

I’ve never compared clients in a way that left me completely disconnected. Sometimes, sure, it takes a little while to get in the right headspace, but I always get there eventually.

Always.

Except this time.

Every touch of his fingers feels wrong. Not painful, just wrong. It’s like my body has built an invisible wall that I can’t tear down, no matter how hard I try. The more he touches me, the more aware I become of how unnatural this feels.

“Do you want me to use some lube?” Xavier asks softly. “I don’t mind if⁠—”

“You know what,” I interrupt, shaking my head as I sit up, wrapping my robe tightly around me. “I’m sorry. I don’t feel well. I really appreciate that you came all this way, but I think I need to cancel the rest of the session.” The words come out in a rush, and guilt strikes me hard. “Of course, you’ll get a full refund, plus an inconvenience fee, and I⁠—”

“Scarlet, stop.” His voice is calm as he reaches for his clothes. “Don’t worry about the fee. These things happen. It’s not like I won’t see you again, right?” He flashes a small, teasing smile, completely unaware of how close his words cut. My stomach twists at the thought.

“Just get some rest,” he says as he buttons his shirt. “When you’re feeling better, message me. We’ll reschedule.”

I nod, unable to meet his eyes. My throat feels tight, my thoughts tangled and loud. The second he leaves, I sink back into the bed, pressing my palms against my face. The universe must be laughing at me, playing some kind of cruel, cosmic joke.

Only, I don’t find it funny. Not one bit.

KNOX

Four o’clock.

I glance down at my wristwatch just as the clock hands align, marking the official start of our booking. Everything is set and planned down to the smallest detail. Henry is on his way back from picking her up, and according to the last update, they’ll arrive in two minutes. Perfect timing.

It’s strange how the past few days have passed in a blur. Between managing my usual workload and personally overseeing every arrangement for this weekend, I haven’t had a moment to truly stop and think. Only now, standing here and waiting, does the reality of it all begin to sink in. She’s coming.

For men like me, bookings with The Network aren’t unusual. It’s part of our world. We have demanding jobs, complicated lives, and little time for relationships. The Network fills that gap, and normally, I wouldn’t think twice about it. This time, though, I know it’s not the same.

I step outside just as the sleek black car turns into the driveway. Aurora Elite’s gardens stretch around me, blooming in their faint greenery. Despite the city growing taller and noisier around it, I’ve made sure this piece of calm has remained untouched. The old hotel carries a luxury that newer places can’t imitate, and I want her to see that. She mentioned her love of plants in her profile, and I took note and figured she may enjoy the view here.

The car rolls to a gentle stop, and Henry steps out, ready to open the door. I lift a hand to stop him. He steps aside immediately, and I move forward, opening the door myself.

And there she is.

Scarlet looks breathtaking. Her dark hair falls loosely over her shoulders, soft waves framing her face. A pair of vintage glasses sits perfectly on her nose, bringing out the warmth in her brown eyes. Her deep maroon dress fits her like it was made for her, accentuating her curves in all the right places all over again.

“Welcome,” I say, offering her my hand as she steps out of the car. The faintest hint of her perfume drifts toward me, familiar and intoxicating all at once. Just like that, every bit of composure I’ve practiced over the last few days threatens to unravel.

She greets me with a smile, and her gaze drifts toward the hotel, taking everything in. Her lips part slightly, and for a moment, she looks genuinely awed.

“This is … beautiful,” she says softly. I’ve seen that reaction before; Aurora Elite tends to leave people speechless, even though it sits quietly on the outskirts of Cascade Point, far from the usual noise and luxury of the city center.

“Come,” I tell her. “Let me give you a tour.” She follows beside me as we walk through the main hall, our footsteps echoing faintly against the marble tiles. The space is lined with expensive artwork and fresh flowers, filling the air with a subtle fragrance. We pass through the café next that still carries the same character it had a century ago. Its polished wood counters, patterned tiles, and antique mirrors make it timeless. From there, we move into the part of the hotel that means the most to me—the small gallery my mother inspired. She had a passion for antiques and rare collectibles, and after her passing, I turned that passion into something lasting. Every piece in the display was hers. Scarlet mentioned she likes pieces that carry history, and what better place to take her to than this?

She slows her steps, her attention caught by the old photographs, glassware, and ornate trinkets that fill the shelves. Her eyes widen slightly as she takes it all in, clearly fascinated by the history in front of her. Watching her appreciate something that meant so much to my mother stirs something inside me. It’s yet another thing I have to attempt to ignore.

Finally, I lead her to the suite reserved for us. It’s spacious, elegant, with soft lighting and a calm atmosphere. Aside from the hand-carved wooden furniture and a balcony overlooking the city, it also includes a bathroom with a private spa, the only one of its kind in the entire hotel.