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I swear, no one hugged this woman, like ever. And that’s all she ever fucking wanted because she’d never come to me for sex. Just a little human contact.
My heart went out to her. Unable to ignore such a simple request, I hugged her back. She sighed, content, and the tension immediately drained from her muscles. So I cupped the back of her head, keeping her cheek pressed to my chest. If only it were this easy to satisfy every client who sought me. Hell, if only it were this easy to connect with my own mother.
“Oh, Mason,” she sighed. “No one gets me like you do.”
Don’t ask how she came to the conclusion that I actually got anything about her, because I couldn’t tell you. All I ever did was let her hug me. And if she wanted to talk, I stayed quiet while she drained everything off her chest. To me, it seemed that if someone actually got her, that person would say shit in return to help her through whatever she was experiencing. Because the woman had some dark, lonely, depressed thoughts sometimes, let me tell you. She was drowning in her own melancholy.
“When Mitchell said he wanted to eat here tonight for dinner, I was so happy. I prayed you would be working. And here you are. You’re my little angel, I swear.”
My gut tensed, wishing she’d transfer her obsession to someone else, wishing she’d get help so I could stop worrying about her, wishing I’d never gotten sucked into her issues in the first place.
She slowly stroked her hand up my back and down again. I’m not sure she even knew she was doing it, but it felt more like a child stroking their favorite blanket for comfort than anything in any way sexual.
“I wanted to call for you yesterday, but Mitchell invited his boss over for dinner, so I had to spend most of the day cleaning house and cooking lamb chops. I guess his boss is a fan of lamb. Sounds disgusting, doesn’t it? Like a meal for Hannibal Lecter.”
She shuddered in disgust.
“But I must’ve done a decent job. Everyone complimented the food. Not that I tasted any of it. And do you know who noticed I didn’t eat a single bite? No one. And do you know who helped me clean the dishes after everyone had left? No one. Though Ethan did pop into the kitchen once to ask me to wash his favorite pair of jeans before his first day of school. Except instead of helping out, he chastised me for having an after-dinner glass of wine. I guess he can’t have everyone thinking his mother is an alcoholic, even though I’m not.”
I had no idea if she was an alcoholic. She never drank around me but she did smell like wine now. Not that it mattered. I was beginning to dislike her dear ol’ son more and more every time she talked about him. How blind did some people have to be to not realize the people closest to them were slipping further and further away?
Which made me antsier for my own mother’s sake. Was she okay? Was she slipping into drugs again? Did I need to help her out of anything? Did I need to pay more attention to her?
Amanda kept talking and rubbing my back, while I kept listening and worrying about my own mom, until a muffled male voice in the hallway, called, “Mother?”
The woman in my arms went stiff, her head jerking up so she could gape at me from wide, frightened eyes. “It’s Ethan,” she hissed.
I nodded and pressed a finger to my lips. I didn’t want to be caught alone with her while working any more than she wanted her son to find us together. She nodded, trusting me to take care of it, and I reached out, carefully locking the door to the office so no one could hear a click.
Barely a second later, the handle jiggled.
Amanda jumped and leaped against me. I hugged her, trying to calm her until footsteps faded down the hall. Another minute later, she lifted her face. Her eyes still reflected fear. “I better get back to our table.”
I nodded, agreeing completely. When she slipped something into my pocket, I clenched my teeth. I hated it when she paid me. It felt all kinds of wrong to take money from anyone for merely hugging them and listening to them talk, but I never refused her cash either because I wanted it to be a constant reminder for her that this was just business. I knew damn well she still thought it was more, but I could only imagine what thoughts would spin through her head if I ever refused her payment.
Smiling up at me with affection, she cupped my cheek for a moment, then disappeared from the office. Amanda had never kissed me, never asked to be kissed, or fucked, or touched in any way that was even remotely sexual. All her needs seemed to be emotional. I wasn’t sure if I actually met those needs or not, though, so I always shipped the money back to her, anonymously, once a month. She thought it came from her estranged mother who hadn’t talked to her in twenty years, and that offered her a measure of comfort, so I kept returning her cash that way.
After waiting until I was sure she was gone, I finally left the office as well, turning the light out as I went. I only had two minutes left on my break, not enough time to eat anything as I’d planned to, so I turned in the direction of the valet station to get back to work, only to slow to a stop when I came face-to-face with Ethan Riker, standing there, barring my path, his expression hard a
nd savage, hands on his hips.
“Lowe,” he growled. “What are you doing back here?”
I glanced around with raised eyebrows, shocked by the question. “This is an employees-only area. I think the better question would be, what’re you doing back here?”
“Have you seen my mother?” he demanded.
I laughed, surprised—and a little impressed—that he was so upfront with the question. “Your mother? Now, why would she be back here? You do understand what the phrase employees only means, right?”
He scowled harder and eyed the door I had just closed behind me. “I just tried that door. It was locked. Why were you in a locked room?”
Oh, Jesus. He was such a douche. But he was a dangerous douche. If he opened the door and looked inside, seeing nothing but an office, he could report it to my supervisor—and I’m not talking about the moron Landon, but Tyler, my real supervisor. That would not go over well.
Thinking quick, I bit out, “It’s a bathroom. Is it okay with you if I lock the door while I take a piss?”
He didn’t look inside for himself to check and see if it was really a bathroom, thank God. Instead, he stepped toward me as if he were going to shove me against the wall.
“Listen, asshole.”
