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I curtsied. “Glad to have helped on your sexual journey.”
He cupped my face. “Oh, girl. Dark circles, black clothes, and you’re way too thin. Please don’t goth. You need some R and R. I will make you my doll tonight. I see beach blanket fem-bot. I’ve got a cute silver swimsuit and fishnet tights. We’ll stop at your dorm to collect your platform heels I know you brought with youfrom Wisconsin.” He purposely pronounced “Wisconsin” with a Midwest twang that made me laugh.
His friends made agreeing noises as he held court.
“I can’t. I think I’m coming down with a cold,” I protested.
Xander linked my arm. “That’s your fear talking. I refuse to leave you home, Nadia.”
Like always with Xander, I wouldn’t refuse. I also liked that we could pick up right where we’d left off with our friendship.
After collecting my platform boots, I went to his dorm room a few blocks away.
Xander pulled out what appeared to be a fifties-style swimsuit. He teased my hair into an Amy Winehouse-style beehive and added more makeup than I ever wore.
Xander studied me for a minute. “Let’s see if I can make a story for this look.”
He tried safety pins and flowers on my swimsuit, but went crazy when he placed black tape around my body like I was bound. He picked up his phone and took a few photos.
“I’m in love with you again.” He cocked a brow between flashes of his camera.
I laughed. “Send me copies.”
We all piled into a taxi and went to a party at a penthouse in the West Village. Xander introduced me to more people than I would remember, and he kept me dancing for hours. For the first time, I felt like a college student.
It was well after three in the morning when we ended up at the Moonlight Diner, and I splurged on a breakfast platter.
Xander smiled at me. “You haven’t changed a bit.”
I grinned. “Whatever do you mean?”
“You’re still so shy, Nadia. Have you slept with anyone yet?”
I shook my head.
He scrunched up his face. “How disappointing.”
He asked about my family, and I could see his attention lulled. He always made me feel like I was on the verge of boring him, so I told him, “I had lunch with Paul Crane today.”
His eyes widened. “What?ThePaul Crane? No fucking way. Are you serious? I don’t believe you. Where on earth did you run into him? Details, details.”
I pushed my eggs around my plate, unsure if I wanted to tell Xander about the surrogacy because, at times, he was like Sophie, gossipy. Therefore, I settled on most of the truth.
“I met him at a shop, and he asked me to lunch at The Grill. He even gave me food to take home.”
He squinted and let out a dry laugh. “I would doubt you, but weird things happen in New York City. Paul Crane’s a straight-up player. All the New York models and starlets wept when he got married. Shame what happened with his wife, but are you really sure it was him and not someone pretending to be him?”
My brows knitted. “Why would I make that up? You need proof?”
He smirked. “Yeah, I do. Do you have his phone number? Show me.”
I took out my phone, and we both saw a new text from Paul that I hadn’t seen yet.
Paul: Hello, Nadia. Give me a call when you get the chance.
We ate in silence for a while, but tension rose that wasn’t there before. Finally, I asked, “What’s up?”
Xander gave me a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s just odd Paul Crane invited you to lunch. These guys seem to always gravitate toward women who have no idea what to do with them. I mean, I know men like Crane are not chatting with you because you’reinteresting. He wants to fuck you.”
