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“I know,” she replied flatly.
He turned halfway. He hadn’t expected that answer.
“What I meant was I’ll pay you to help me get clean. I know… I know that we slept together and that changes things, but I’m also a little more perceptive than you think about your method of operation. I know your style. You’re in and then you’re out. Pun intended. Now, I get that you may not be emotionally prepared for the work that this job calls for… but you see—the thing is, I could really use a friend right now. And I’m no psychologist or anything… but it appears that we both could…”
“Don’t psycho-analyze me, Jessica.”
“Fine. But can I at least ask you a couple of questions?”
“No.”
“Myles—please. Play along… just halfway, that’s all I’m asking.”
She placed her hands on her hips and waited. He studied her face and suddenly, hated himself for the way he was treating her. He relented. “Shoot.”
“How many women have you had sex with in the past year?”
“I don’t know. Why—?”
She cocked her head to the side. Challenging him. “I think you do know.”
He sighed. “One hundred and sixty-three.”
Her mouth flew open. “That’s almost—”
Myles was quick to cut her off. “I know how many it is.”
Jessica swallowed. “Wow.” He watched as she shifted to balance her weight on her stronger leg. He wanted to go to her, but he didn’t. “Do you still have contact with any of them?”
He was done with this conversation. Who was she to say whether he was or wasn’t emotionally prepared, anyway? She didn’t even know him. “No. I like sex, all right. No strings attached—sex. It’s pretty simple, actually. I’m safe… I get tested regularly. A number is just a number. So, I have a big appetite?” Myles shrugged. “I don’t see what’s so wrong with that...”
“I think you do.”
“This isn’t about me, Jessica. My life is my life and I’m not hurting anyone.”
She glared at him for a few moments, waiting for him to say something else. And when she realized he wasn’t going to, she added, “Keep telling yourself that,” and walked out.
Myles dressed, laced up his shoes, and headed to the hotel gym. He figured a run would clear his mind. But after spending an hour pounding the treadmill left him feeling no more clarity than when he’d started, he knew just where he needed to go.
He headed straight for Jess’s room only to find it empty. Shit. His one job was to watch her and he hadn’t even done that well. This wasn’t that hard and here he was failing again. He dialed her cell. No answer. Myles took the elevator down knowing exactly where he’d find her all the while praying that she hadn’t yet slipped in deeper than either of them could handle. Sure enough, there she was all fancied up, sitting at the bar, legs crossed, in a pencil skirt and six inch heels. Waiting. What he didn’t understand was how a woman recovering from her injuries could manage in heels like that.
Myles took a seat in the empty chair next to hers. She looked over at him and then away.
“I’m sorry.” He eyed the glass in her hand. “But please don’t do this.”
“You’re sorry?” she mocked, nursing her cocktail.
Myles took the drink from her hand and placed it on the bar. Jess shot him a go to hell look but didn’t move to pick the glass back up. “I know your personal life is in shambles. I know you’re in pain, most of the time. Believe me, I know. But the way you’re managing it is all wrong. You need to let yourself feel the pain. Sit with it a while. Stop doing this to yourself.”
She shifted, uncrossed, and then re-crossed her legs. “Is that how you do it?”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“But I’m willing to work on it if you are. I’ve given your proposition some thought… and I’ve decided I’d like to see it through if you’re still game.”
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