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“I wasn’t going to say yes, if that’s what you think,” I said and looked out the window. Cole could have offered me a million dollars, and I wouldn’t have taken it. Which meant I was completely fucked up and in deep trouble, as far as I was concerned.
“I can pay you what he offered—so that you don’t have a loss,” James said quietly.
“I don’t consider it a loss,” I said. I kept my face turned away. There was a tumble of emotions inside me—I felt betrayed that James had shared our secret with his friend, thrilled that he had stood up for me, and darkly hopeful that he wanted me for himself.
It was the darkly hopeful part that was killing me. That part had to go.
“I’m sorry that I told him about us,” James said, and I heard him pour himself another drink. I kept still, my face turned toward the window. “He thought we were an actual couple, in love. He was making such a big deal out of it. So I told him to shut him up. Which was a dick move in and of itself.”
I shrugged, looking out at the darkness, but I felt as though my heart was being ripped in two.
He thought we were an actual couple, in love.
I’d only met James today. We were not in love. We were playing a game, putting on a show. But I had all sorts of inappropriate feelings for him, bubbling up right underneath the surface. I was not a feelings person—I didn’t have the space for them in my already-complicated life. But for whatever reason, or for a whole host of reasons, James had gotten under my skin quickly. He was not just a John to me. That was a huge fucking problem on a long list of huge fucking problems.
I needed solutions, not more problems.
I also needed money. I closed my eyes and willed all my stupid feelings to go away. But they didn’t, and I found myself on the verge of tears. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t cry in front of him—that was Escorting 101.
“I don’t know if I can do this tonight,” I said, my voice treacherously thick.
He sighed. “I’m sorry, Audrey. I’ve hurt your feelings twice tonight. I’m completely fucking this up.”
“I think I should go home,” I said miserably.
I turned back just in time to see him finish his bourbon, a bleak look on his face.
“I think that would be for the best,” he said stiffly.
* * *
I had them drop me off three blocks from my apartment. I didn’t want him to see the crappy building where I lived. Kai pulled over, and James got out with me.
“I’m sorry tonight turned out like this,” he said, his jaw clenched.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I just need to be alone.”
“I need your number,” James said. I recited it to him and watched him tap it into his fancy phone, wondering when, and if, he was ever going to call me. I wasn’t sure what our separation meant. This was supposed to be our first night together, and I was going home to sleep alone. Would I still have him as an assignment? Would he phone Elena and tell her I was too much trouble? Would he decide that I was a pain in the ass, and I’d never see him again?
A lump formed in my throat, but I smiled at him when he was done. “Thanks for the ride,” I said. “And the drinks.”
“Anytime,” he said and unceremoniously got back in the car.
My heart dropped at his curt departure. But I made myself head home with my chin up, taking long, confident strides. As if I knew I was making the right choice by walking away from him.
Plus, I didn’t want him to see my hot, confused tears.
* * *
My apartment seemed even more disgusting than it had this morning, and that was saying something. I was acutely aware of the contrast to James’s multi-million-dollar condominium. Good thing I’m here alone, I thought, but it didn’t feel good.
I made myself some tea and went and sat on my windowsill. James Preston. His big-shouldered, suit-clad image filled my head, crowding out all coherent thought. I would have Googled him, but I had no Internet access, no smartphone. It was better that way. I didn’t want to see the society pictures that Elena had mentioned, of him with other women. Real women, real dates.
I decided to worry about Elena instead. If he let me go, she would, too. She would be absolutely furious with me. And then I’d be back to turning tricks on the street, trying to make rent and keep my brother in his residence home. Except that I’d never make enough money.
I thought about getting a legitimate job for approximately one second. The idea made me laugh—the only other thing I’d ever done was waitress, and I could make more money in an hour turning tricks than I could in a whole shift waiting tables. I had my brother to think about.
My body was just my body. When I was with a John, I could distance myself from what was happening, almost as if it was happening to someone else. I could do at least that for my brother. I was all he had, and he was all I had, and I had to protect him using any means necessary. My body and my pride were a small price to pay for his well-being.
