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CHAPTERNINE
“Lanie, I can’t get in. I’m told you took me off the list. What’s going on? Let me explain.” Gavin texted.
He didn’t deserve her compassion, or her. But she envisioned a line of visitors at the gate to her subdivision waiting for entry behind him and wrote back. “Another time. Beverly came by. She told me she hired you.”
“Ok. When you’re ready.”
She appreciated those qualities in him. His patience. His receding without a hissy fit and no pressure. Had he perfected those traits as an escort? Probably.
Hours she spent dissecting their relationship. Unless he truly had a hidden agenda, she trusted him and what they shared. She didn’t believe he faked it all. But she could be a stupid, naïve, middle-aged divorcee.
She laid in bed most of the day. After she heard Beverly leave and drive out of the driveway, she went and locked the doors. Only Hunter had a key. She always wanted to see him, but she prayed he didn’t make an unplanned visit. He didn’t.
Pouring a glass of wine, she went outside by the pool and gazed at the stars and moon. It gave her peace. She dreamed of being anywhere but there. How had her seemingly perfect life ended up in shambles? She had a lot to be grateful for. She called Hunter. Which helped and hurt her.
He sounded great. Happy. He mentioned his finals and how stressed he had been. It reminded her that since Gavin, she hadn’t maintained regular contact with him. He didn’t ask about it, but she realized it. And she hated herself for it.
She went into detail about her job at Raphael’s. She probably shouldn’t have. Did she do it to alleviate her guilt for neglecting him. Not that she had, or he even noticed. Still, it bothered her. She shouldn’t allow a man to steal her focus. Especially from her son.
“Mom, that’s awesome. I’m so excited for you. Can’t wait to check it out,” he congratulated. “I’ll be home Saturday. And… if it’s not too much trouble, I want some country fried steak.”
Her throat constricted. She wouldn’t cry. Nope. Not even happy cry. “Too much trouble… are you kidding me. I’ll happily cook it and anything else you want. Not like I cook much anymore. I’m looking forward to it.”
And boy did she ever. She needed normalcy in her life again. Everything over the last two months happened so fast. She allowed everything Gavin related to consume her. All of her. Her time. Her body. Her heart. Her judgment. A tiny part of her wanted to turn on the television or search the internet for the details becoming public about Peter Long’s death. But she dreaded it. What information would they release? Would Gavin’s picture be plastered all over the news and social media? Would hers?
He had an attorney. Had he been in situations before in which his escort status might become public? She would eventually talk to him. She wanted and needed to hear what he had to say. Imagining the sorts of situations that he probably encountered in his secret line of business gave her a queasy stomach.
But she didn’t believe he faked all they shared. And Beverly claimed he admitted quitting. No matter which scenario played out, she had to know. She had to talk to him. At least hear why he didn’t tell her. Or even why he did it in the first place.
He could make it all better. Because that’s what he did by being in her life.
She loved him. Or she loved the man she thought he was.
* * *
The following morning,they met at a coffee shop downtown. They probably should talk privately not in a public establishment, but damn if she’d risk bypassing a necessary conversation by falling in bed with him. If they were at her place or his, chances were great that they would end up naked and engaged in passionate sex.
He greeted her at her car. He looked as if he hadn’t slept much either. His eyes were dull and swollen. The shine which usually supplemented his handsomeness faded. The smile she associated with him and always received, gone.
Opening her door, he stepped in between it and her. Bending his elbow, he rested it on the frame using it as a prop to support him. He closed his eyes and inhaled a long, deep breath. “God, I wanted to tell you. So many times. Every day. Every hour.”
“And you didn’t,” she sputtered. It pained her to see him like that. Hurt and broken like her. But he had no one to blame but himself.
His eyes flew open, and he gazed at her reflecting the anguish she too suffered. “I got out of it the afternoon we met. You were… and are special. You were the woman I wanted.”
How easily she yearned for it to be true. How quickly she could forget why they were meeting in public. “Let’s go and get an outside table. We have a lot to talk about.”
“All I want is to hold you. Soothe your mind and your heart. Prove to you that what we have is real,” he pleaded.
And that would conclude with their bodies entangled. “I think there are other issues… crucial issues to manage,” she remarked.
He straightened and moved aside for her to exit the vehicle. She walked fast ahead of him. Rounding the corner of the building and stepping onto the sidewalk, she hurried to the first vacant table. Plopping her purse on top, she sat. “Just a black coffee for me,” she announced. He nodded and went inside the café. Her pulse drummed in her throat. Lifting her hand, she massaged it praying she remained impassive and resolute during their meeting. She couldn’t think with her heart.
The foreseeable backlash— not on her, but on David and Hunter if Gavin’s past became known plagued her. David had a solid, respected reputation in real estate and in the community. He earned it. He deserved it. And Hunter. He had his whole life in front of him. She never wanted to disappoint him or embarrass him.
Placing the cups on the table, Gavin walked around and sat across from her. “I know you have a million questions, but I want to start by assuring you that the photos of you and I that Peter Long had and my association with Judith should not become public knowledge. My previous employer, Marian, is extremely discreet and cautious. The agency is exclusive. We operate with established clientele. She’s been in the business since the early eighties. Legally binding contracts, NDA’s, are obligatory. She retains a representing attorney for each of her… employees.” Finishing his informative regurgitation, he wrapped his hands around his coffee and fixed his attention on her.
How did she even respond? He spoke of contracts and having an attorney on retainer for sexual transactions. “Why did you do it? I know you earn a substantial salary at Raphael’s. You’re good looking.”
