Chapter 17: Sixteen

I was seriously a backward kind of guy. I swear. It seemed as if the nobler or grander my intentions were, the worse I fucked a situation up.

Two years ago, I’d agreed to sleep with my landlady ~one time~ in order to pay off all my mom’s back rent. And here, I’d ended up becoming a male escort because of it.

Then Reese had come along, and I’d known from the first moment I heard her laugh that she’d be better off if I kept my distance. So what had ended up happening there? Yep, I’d tangled myself up in her until I was talking to her every day, eating lunch with her, and even touching her.

But this time… This time, I swore I was going to stay away.

Yet even as I made that oh-so-noble promise to myself, another darker part of me laughed at my stupidity. I suspected I was far from over messing up her life. I wouldn’t intentionally get her hurt, of course, but that part of me that knew better recognized she was doomed, anyway.

My grand plans to disappear started okay, though.

I managed to avoid her that evening, leaving for work before she showed up to babysit Sarah.

A few hours later, I even succeeded in not thinking about her for about five minutes straight.

Progress.

When a black Acura with the windows tinted—which usually meant politician—pulled into the valet station, I was eager for something to do, so I hurried forward and opened the driver’s side door. Except a client of mine emerged, beginning that awkward moment of recognition.

Despite how it might appear, I really didn’t run across clients at the Country Club all that often. But yeah, it happened maybe once or twice—sometimes three times—a month, so I was also used to it.

~He~ was not.

Or maybe I should say ~they~ were not, since my coworker opened the passenger door to help the second rider out...who was also a client. The couple was married to each other: the husband a senator and his wife from old money. They had paid me twice what anyone else ever had in order to keep my time with them discreet. I’d even signed a waiver for my silence. Both were actually nice people, but okay, if anyone learned about even a little of their bedroom kink, their political careers would probably perish…or maybe not, what with the way things worked these days. But I had a feeling they didn’t want to take that chance, so I was no doubt one of their biggest cover-ups.

I could practically taste the shock on the husband’s face when he looked up at the kid who’d helped him tie his wife up a couple months back and given her the birthday present she’d always wanted. He immediately paused, his face paling and his eyes widening.

“Good God. What’re ~you~ doing here?” He glanced across the top of his car toward his wife, who was looking down, checking something in her purse as she moved around toward us. Then he turned back to me, his eyes flashing with heat. “Did Farah set up a surprise for me?”

I glanced down to clear my throat, hoping he wouldn’t catch my expression in case any of my emotions leaked through, because it felt ~really~ weird for him to look at me the sensual way he was looking at me. “No, sir,” I said to the ground. “I actually work here.”

“O…oh.” He sounded distinctly disappointed. And confused. I caught sight of his shoes shifting as if he might be as suddenly uncomfortable as I was. I glanced up. He offered me a tense smile but politely asked, “How long have you worked here?”

When he glanced around as if worried about getting caught talking to me, I took a slight step back, feeling like a lower life form. “For about a year and a half now.”

“Hmm.” He didn’t seem to know what to do with that, so he just stood there, gaping badly. I handed him his valet ticket, which finally jolted him back to the present. He gave me his keys and looked blindly for his wife as she finished rounding the front of the car to join us.

“Honey,” he said as if trying to warn her but not getting any further than that.

“Well, don’t forget to tip the boy, Stuart,” she scolded, finally glancing up and rolling her eyes with a teasing grin. “You act as if you’ve never dealt with valet service before.” Transferring her smile my way, she gushed, “Sorry. He usually—~oh~!” Jerking to a halt, she blinked. “Oh my God.”

A moment later, her eyes lit up and she glanced at her husband, looking hopeful. “Did you set this up?”

He grimaced. “Actually, no. He… He says he works here. As the valet.”

She skimmed her gaze over my uniform. “Oh.” Her expression heated as it traveled down my chest, but then her husband elbowed her, which made her clear her throat and check the area, blushing.

And even though they were super nice people, and I knew they meant no offense, they managed to make me feel shittier than any of my cold, selfish, and calculating clients ever had, because as soon as they realized I wasn’t there to please them, they grew worried about being seen with me.

I was just the ~dirty~ in their little secret.

Since one of my coworkers, Mac, was watching the entire encounter, I offered the couple a small wave and tight smile and brushed past them to slide into the open door of their car. “Have a good evening.”

When I glanced back into the rearview mirror at them, they were staring after me as if they feared I was going to steal their ride or something. Maybe they thought that’s what prostitutes did. I don’t know. But I felt shitty for the rest of my shift, especially after the husband approached me when they returned from the casino with their valet ticket.

Mac actually accepted the ticket from them and took off to fetch their car. I hadn’t even noticed them because I’d been writing in stats we were supposed to turn in when I heard a voice say, “Here.”

I glanced up, and there he was, in front of me, holding out a folded bill. I frowned at him, confused, then peered past his shoulder to his wife who was waiting at the curb for their car but was watching us hopefully.

“I forgot to give this to you earlier.” He nudged the money closer.

“It’s fine,” I started, but he wouldn’t let up, so I just took the tip so he’d leave already. But as soon as it was in my hand, I realized a note was folded inside.

The husband stared at me meaningfully, so I unfolded it, only to read what looked like a hotel room number.

“We’re staying at the Hilton on Thirty-fourth for a conference this weekend,” he explained, his gaze traveling down my body before he met my eyes again. “If you want to stop by after you get off work tonight…”

When he trailed off with a telling question in his voice, I took a moment to breathe before I shook my head and blurted, “I’m sorry, I’m booked tonight.”

I was not booked.

Holy shit. What was I doing? Going to their hotel room after work would bring in good money, and this couple was probably easier to work with than anyone else who employed my services. They were straightforward, no games, no contention. It would’ve been a dream gig for a guy like me.

Stuart narrowed his eyes slightly, obviously not expecting a rejection. But then he smiled his politician’s smile and nodded. “No worries. We’ll be here until Tuesday morning if you have an opening before then.”

“I don’t,” I said, shocking myself even more as I repeated, “I’m booked. Indefinitely.”

Seriously, what the hell was I doing? Had I just ~retired~? Again?

I’d tried this once last year, but then Sarah had ended up in the hospital with pneumonia, Mom got into a fender bender that required thousands of dollars’ worth of repairs on her car, and one of my clients grew so desperate for an appointment she offered to pay me twice her usual. So I was sucked back in.

I almost expected the man before me to start negotiating and raising his offer too, but all he said was, “I see.” He looked confused for a moment, not sure what to do or how to react to my refusal to join him and his wife for another threesome. He honestly hadn’t thought I’d turn him down, I guess. He started to swivel away, only to pause and grab my arm.

“Don’t forget,” he murmured discreetly, stepping closer as Mac pulled the couple’s car up to the curb. “Just because you left the business doesn’t mean the NDA you signed has become void. What happened between the three of us remains confidential. Forever.”

I looked down at his hand. The last time I’d looked at his fingers, he’d been jacking off to the view of me screwing his wife from behind. I tore my gaze from his grip and looked into his eyes. “I know.”

His smile was tense and forced, but he nodded at me politely. “Good. Well. Good luck with...with whatever path you take next.” He brushed past me, skimming his hand along my arm as if he couldn’t leave without one last caress, and he hurried to meet his wife, who was waiting eagerly and expectantly at the car.

After he thrust more money distractedly at Mac, he took his wife’s shoulders and said something in her ear.

I don’t think she took the news well.

“Indefinitely?” she cried, glancing at me over his shoulder. “What the hell does ~that~ mean?”

She tried to approach me, determination clear in her eyes, but her husband grabbed her arm and manually tugged her around to the passenger side, opening her door for her and depositing her inside. His gaze turned my way as he shut the door. The longing I saw made me turn away.

“What was ~that~ about?” Mac asked as they drove off.

I let my gaze wander after the departing Acura and shrugged. “They wanted me to chauffeur them around town this weekend, I think.”

Mac snorted out a derisive laugh and shook his head. “Rich people are so weird.”

I nodded, even though I kind of wanted to say ~everyone~ was weird. But a group exited the restaurant then, wanting to pick up their vehicles, so both Mac and I were pulled back into work.

When I returned home an hour later, Reese’s car was still parked out front. My heart started to thump hard in my chest.

~Dammit, Mom. Why weren’t you home yet?~ I was supposed to avoid this girl for her own good. I was nothing but bad for her. The only thing I excelled at was being people’s dirty little secret.

I eased in the back door, hoping maybe she was asleep in the front room and I could slip into my bedroom without her realizing I was there. But as soon as I shut the door behind me, her laugh drifted down the hall, followed by Sarah’s.

God. My two favorite sounds in the world.

Unable to help myself, I followed the laughter until I stopped just outside Sarah’s room, where I pressed my hand to the wall next to the open door and bowed my head, simply listening. Reese was reading ~Harry Potter~. My lips twitched up into a smile as she put an inflection in her voice, trying to capture the mood of the scene.

“‘…~Things I want to know the truth about~,’” she read, only to change her voice for a new character. “‘~The truth.’ Dumbledore sighed. ~‘~It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should, therefore, be treated with great caution~.’”

They’d nearly reached the end of the story, I realized. I’d been reading it to Sarah on the nights when Reese didn’t babysit and I didn’t have to work. And last night, I’d read ahead and finished the entire book after Sarah had fallen asleep on me. But the white queen had just knocked Ron out flat during the live chess match. I wasn’t sure how the heck Sarah had been able to fall asleep during a tense moment like that; ~I’d~ been hooked and ended up reaching the end less than an hour later.

“What does that mean?” Sarah interrupted Reese’s reading to ask.

Reese paused. “What? That the truth is both beautiful and terrible and should be treated with caution?”

Curious how she would answer, I cocked my head to the side to hear her response.

“Well,” she started, pausing only to let out a long, thoughtful sigh. “I guess the truth is beautiful because it’s pure and undiluted. There’s no lie or deception in it. It’s full of enlightenment, telling you everything you didn’t know before. And knowledge is pretty spectacular, right?”

When she paused, I had to guess she was waiting to receive a sign of understanding from my sister. Then she went on.

“But… The truth doesn’t sugarcoat anything. It won’t only show you the good stuff. Truth is everything, good ~and~ bad. And sometimes learning those bad parts can shake you…right down to your core. It can leave you forever changed, not always in a good way. So instead of springing the whole truth on a person all at once—bad parts and all—you’ll sometimes either conceal it, waiting until you think they can handle it, or you reveal it in a gentle way that doesn’t hurt them. Does that make sense?”

Hell, yes. It made more sense than I wanted it to. There’s no way I could ever tell her anything like my appointment I’d had months ago with the couple I’d run into tonight. There was no way she’d ever be able to handle an undiluted truth like that. She’d never look at me the same again.

But it also made me realize Reese was honestly the only person I’d ever given even ~some~ of my truths to. I’d never actually talked about my secret occupation with anyone before her. My clients knew, of course. But I’d never opened up with any of them and actually discussed ~my side~ of the job or mentioned why I did what I did.

Suddenly the line in that kid’s book meant even more to me. You couldn’t trust just anyone with your truth. They would see all of you, the good ~and~ the bad. It was scary as shit to show someone important to you ~all~ your flaws. What if seeing your imperfections scared them off? Or what if they stuck around, only to use your confessions as a weapon against you. They could slaughter you with your own truth.

Patricia had done that to me. She’d found out what was most important to me, she’d found out my weaknesses, and she had attacked repeatedly until I felt like the stunted shell I was now.

So yeah, you definitely had to be careful with who you trusted.

But for some reason, I had trusted Reese with bits of my truth. After surviving Patricia’s numerous manipulations, why the hell had I risked that? How had I known ~Reese~ wouldn’t abuse my confidence? What the hell had I been thinking? I could’ve repulsed her and chased her off. She could’ve turned on me and exposed me to the world. She could’ve pointed and called me the sick, repulsive bastard I felt like I was. She could’ve slaughtered me.

Except she’d done none of that. She’d taken it all in, absorbed it, and still accepted me for a mess of a soul that I was.

“That’s deep,” Sarah said from inside her room.

Reese laughed with that laugh I loved, jarring me back to the present where she now inhabited my world and made me feel more alive than I had in years. It might be dangerous for her to associate with me, but hell, I couldn’t regret meeting her or spending the time with her that I’d gotten.

“Oh, my precious Sarah,” she sighed in delight, “I cannot wait until you finish the entire series. Dumbledore is chock-full of one-liners that are so deep you could spend years just thinking about each one and all the different meanings they have. One of my favorites is from the third book. He said, ‘~Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light~.’ Whenever I’m feeling down, I just remember that line, and I think of something bright and happy that lightens the pain until it doesn’t hurt quite so much anymore. You see, the light is ~inside~ you, not anywhere else. No one else can really make you happy but you. You just have to remember to turn on that place inside you that makes you glow and you’ll make it through any hard time that comes at you.”

Damn. I might love this girl.

Because the light inside her had to be so fucking bright it had helped ~me~ see through my darkness too. This past week, I hadn’t felt as miserable and downtrodden as I usually did. I had just been…happy. Because of her.

Soaking in her words, the sound of her voice, the very essence of her spirit that floated into the hall and cloaked me like a warm blanket, I sank to the floor and sat with my back to the wall. Then I rested my forearms on my bent knees and tipped my head up toward the ceiling so I could close my eyes and just listen to her.

“But…” she told Sarah, “if we sit here and keep thinking about all the beautiful hidden meanings in ~Harry Potter~, we’d probably end up like someone in front of the Mirror of Erised and waste away, entranced by the wisdom of Dumbledore, so… Let’s get this story read, shall we?”

Her voice changed as she started in again, quoting the text. I listened for a few minutes before slipping away, silently escaping into my room so neither of them would realize I was home. I didn’t want to interrupt their special time together and, besides, I still felt kind of raw after what Reese had done to me with her few simple words to my sister.

Actually, I was pretty sure I would never be the same again.

Because if ~my~ light was inside me, and Reese knew how to trigger it into turning on, then she must be pretty damn integral to me. I wasn’t sure what the fuck to do about that.