Chapter Fourteen
Ravi
“Hey, Rav. What’s with the lothario?”
“Huh?” Simon’s question filters to me through the haze of near-pornographic “yum” noises I’ve been making over my breakfast burrito. I’m sooo freaking glad my stomach is finally working again.
Room service at the hotel where I’ve been staying is nice, but I’ve been craving one of Gil’s tofu scramble burritos all week. I hated not being here last Sunday, but I had homework to catch up on. I’m not letting that slide until I know for sure I can leave Belle Argo.
When I see where Simon’s pointing over my shoulder, my face falls. “Oh. Him.”
A quick check tells me my giant shadow is indeed still with me.
For the past several days he’s followed me literally everywhere.
Class, the gym, the hotel restaurant, the farmers’ market, and, of course, here to brunch.
The only place I’ve had privacy is back at the suite, when I’m behind the locked door of my own room.
Weirdly enough, I’ve gotten so used to Channing I sometimes forget he’s there.
I guess it was wishful thinking that if he stood against the back wall of Gil’s and didn’t talk to anybody, my fellow escorts wouldn’t notice a giant at our weekly group brunch.
By the expectant stares they’re all giving me, it was definitely too much to hope.
Christian, who’s had some past issues with an abusive boyfriend, seems especially wary. He’s leaning so far away from Channing he might fall off his chair. I give him my best apologetic smile.
“Sorry. That’s Channing. The guy who owns Shadow seemed to think I needed someone to keep an eye on me until the auction. As long as I don’t make a run for it, everything is fine.”
It still seems like serious overkill. So a guy offered me money to blow off the auction? I didn’t do it, did I?
A few of the guys give an awkward wave. Simon’s boyfriend has narrowed eyes and tightly pressed lips, as if he maybe doesn’t trust the guy.
Which I don’t blame him for. My bodyguard has been mostly nice to me, but I’m not stupid enough to think he’s on my side.
Channing responds with a tight grimace that could almost but not quite be classified as a smile.
Nico uses his breadstick to point from across the table. “Is he, like, one of those palace guards? He’s not allowed to make facial expressions or whatever?”
“You’d have to ask him.” I lift a shoulder and return to my burrito.
Not that there’s anything really wrong with Channing.
He’s been perfectly fine, I guess, for a bodyguard.
Staying in the nicest hotel in Belle Argo, nicer than anyplace I’ve stayed in my entire life, and getting to order room service for the first time ever?
I certainly have nothing to complain about.
Staying away from Liam has felt unexpectedly hollow.
Even when I was at the dorms I came home to do my laundry and eat on weekends.
He’d call or text to check in. Being cut off from him completely, it’s almost like when my parents died.
Someone I loved, just suddenly gone. Why I miss his presence so painfully after the way he’s treated me, I don’t understand.
All I know is the closer I get to the auction, the more my nerves jangle in my stomach every day.
It’s a good thing I’m usually a stress-eater, or I’d risk being skin and bones by the time the big night rolls around. For all of Daniel’s predictions that I’m going to “fetch a pretty price,” nobody wants to fuck a skeleton.
I mean, maybe someone does? That’s probably not something I want to bother researching.
“Hey, you doing okay, man?” Next to me, PJ nudges me with his elbow. “You decide you’ve changed your mind about this thing, you say the word. We’ll bust you out of whatever castle tower they’ve got you in and fuck that giant bodyguard.”
In spite of all the chatter, both here in the back room and out front, Channing clears his throat behind me. I’ve noticed the big guy has ears like a bat. PJ might be scrappy, but I’m not sure he can take Channing down. After four years of living with a soldier, I know one when I see ’em.
“Really, I’ll be fine,” I assure my friend. “If you ask me, the security isn’t even necessary, but it is what it is.”
If Liam were here now he’d be telling me how stupid and dangerous this all is for the millionth time. I’m not as stupid as he thinks. Or as the rest of these guys might think, as well meaning as they are.
I’m aware the auction is a risk. Some guy might want to hurt me or push my boundaries past what’s comfortable. Who knows, though, I could like it, right? And even if I don’t, it’s only twenty-four hours out of my life.
I handled my parents getting murdered. I’ve handled Liam rejecting me over and over (and over) for nearly two years. I can handle this. Especially for the chance at a huge payoff.
It’s only twenty-four hours, right? I can handle anything for that long.
Next to Nico, Dean leans forward. “But, Rav, this shit’s no joke. There was that guy at the party who tried to put his hands on you, so maybe a little extra protection for the time being isn’t a bad idea.”
“Wait, who the hell grabbed you?” Alexis, one of Brennan’s female workers, asks as she, well, grabs my arm. Sweet of her to be worried though.
“It wasn’t a big deal. Some guy at a party wanted me to take money to skip the auction.”
“Oh hell. Brennan would’ve given birth to kittens.
You know he’s going to take his cut of your payday.
” This is from Prince, one of our newer escorts.
Unlike a lot of the guys, who do dinner dates and charity events and all sorts of things aside from having sex with clients, Prince pretty much only has sex with the clients, from what I can tell.
Given that he’s got more tattoos than I’ve ever seen a person, even on his knuckles and on the side of his face, I can see how it would be hard for him to simply put on a suit and blend in.
I’ve also heard he’s into the “super kinky stuff,” whatever that means. I haven’t asked, even though I’ve wanted to. Tattooing, for sure. Kissing? Maybe even clothespins?
There was something on that list Daniel made me fill out about ice cubes. I chickened out and put no because I wasn’t clear on where the ice cubes would go. In a drink? In my mouth? In my…?
I’ve been meaning to research that one.
Either way, pretty much every sex worker I’ve met—including me—has some sort of pressing financial need that they haven’t been able to meet any other way. Prince seems to be the exception. Once on the group chat he said he likes to fuck so might as well get paid.
Makes sense.
“I’m not stupid enough to go behind Brennan’s back,” I mutter. “I don’t know what everyone’s worrying about. Dean told the guy no. His friend got him to back off. Aside from being all starey-glarey for the rest of the night he left me alone. Everything was fine.”
Troy, whose normally styled hair is all ruffled for some reason, pipes up.
“You gotta be careful, though, pip-squeak. There are some real sickos out there. That’s the whole reason Adam and I started working for Brennan instead of being freelance.
” He gestures between himself and Adam, who’s sitting next to him eating a cupcake. For breakfast.
“Uh, Adam? Aren’t you worried about your blood sugar?” He’s diabetic, right? Cupcakes don’t seem like a great idea for breakfast.
“It’s sort of a special celebration.” He elbows Troy in the side. “Don’t worry, this guy makes sure I check my numbers and everything.” Troy surreptitiously moves his hand over, patting Adam on the thigh.
They’re not as subtle as they think, because a look around the table tells me I’m not the only one who noticed their intimacy. Even I’ve put a few dollars down on the pool for when the two of them are going to finally admit they’re a couple, but they keep swearing they aren’t.
Over by Alexsis, Eve tries to ask what he’s celebrating, but they both give her a weird look, so she lets it drop.
Then Troy changes the subject by asking Dean how his daughter is doing. Which works like a charm.
“She’s in ballet now. You guys gotta see this. I did her hair myself…” Then he’s showing around photos of a toothless little girl in a tutu and a bun, who’s beaming happily with her two front teeth missing.
Michael’s the only one not oohing and ahhing, grumbling something about how Dean’s not the one who searched high and low for brown ballet flats.
There’s an unexpected heaviness in my stomach as I look at the pretty ballerina picture.
I mean, it’s nothing against Dean’s daughter, who’s definitely the cutest daughter ever.
It’s not even that I’m jealous, because I’m not even twenty yet, and I don’t know if I’ll ever even want kids.
It’s more that she looks so secure and happy, and I hardly remember when I felt that way.
The rest of my burrito hits my plate in a scattered mess. I’m not as hungry now.
While I loved my parents, most of my childhood there was constant fighting. Nothing was ever predictable. Then they were gone, shot by my dad’s heartbroken mistress, which was worse.
Mr. Monroe is with us today, on the other side of PJ. He leans back in his chair and clears his throat. “Uh, so, Ravi, PJ mentioned you were having trouble with your living situation. Do you need a place to stay? We’ve been a little lax about getting the new house furnished, but there’s a sofa.”
“Yeah, and I made sure that shit was comfortable,” PJ pipes up. “His old one sucked. Badly. Not like you do, baby,” he says with a hand on Mr. Monroe’s cheek.
That’s, uh… I mean, good for them? Except already I have to see Mr. Monroe in class three mornings a week and pretend I haven’t overheard PJ on the phone before telling Mr. Monroe to “get his pretty ass home and have it up in the air.”
It’s so hard to focus on Mr. Monroe’s class lectures with that mental picture in my head.
Out of the corner of my eye I can see my teacher blushing hard, but whatever he says in response to PJ’s lewd comment is too quiet for me to hear. Thankfully.
“Uh, thanks, Mr. Monroe? I’m good though. Daniel Corvus is putting me up at the Belle Argo Premiere. It’s really nice.”
Around the table I can hear some whistles and murmurs of appreciation.
“That place is phenomenal,” Michael says from next to Dean.
“I stayed for a week once doing a boyfriend experience. Especially nice if you’re on the VIP floor.
Top-notch service. Don’t sleep on the gym and the pool while you’re there.
Makes the gym at BAU look like that old place where Rocky trained. ”
“I haven’t checked out the pool. Maybe you guys want to come over and swim while I’m still there?
” As soon as the words are out of my mouth I freeze, because why would they want to come and hang out with me?
But then some of them nod, and I relax a little.
Sometimes I’m just not sure if I’m overstepping with people.
“It’s a great place,” Mr. Monroe agrees. “My brother Wes is one of the managers there. You can get in touch with him if you need anything while you’re there. Remind him that you know me.”
“Oh, yeah. I talked to him, actually.” I don’t mention the weird ass-kissing vibe and how different it was from the way he usually stares daggers at us all. Even though I still wonder if the guy had a personality transplant.
“Just don’t tell him you know me.” PJ laughs.
“He already knows, silly. He’s met all your friends at this point.
” Mr. Monroe gives PJ a playful smack on the shoulder.
Then he gives PJ the same look he gives when kids are talking in class before turning back to me.
“Seriously, Wes’s issues with PJ aside, if you need something he’ll be happy to help.
He’s one of those people who likes to feel needed.
He’s staying at the hotel temporarily while going through a divorce, so he’s there most of the time. ”
“Thanks. He did stop by the room to ask if I needed anything. I don’t want to go bothering him any further, though, if he’s dealing with personal stuff.”
“You’re definitely on the VIP floor if a manager stopped by the room,” Michael throws in.
“Honestly, I think Wes could use the distraction,” Mr. Monroe counters. “We don’t talk about personal stuff as much as we used to, but I get the impression he’s having a hard time.”
“Hey, remember when your brother followed PJ in here and threatened him a while back? That was kind of hot.” Adam asks as he licks the frosting from his cupcake wrapper.
“I wasn’t here that day, but thank you so much for the reminder.” Mr. Monroe gives Adam that same talking-in-class look.
Honestly, Adam’s comment gives me the urge to look around the restaurant. I’m a little surprised Liam hasn’t tried to find me here. He knows it’s my favorite place. Maybe he’s finally decided he’s done keeping tabs on me.
Which is a good thing. Except I don’t like the way thinking it makes my heart sink.
From behind I get a tap on the shoulder.
“Mr. Corvus wants to speak with you. We need to go,” Channing says.
Just like that, whatever peace I felt being in one of my favorite places with people I know disappears. The look on Channing’s face tells me whatever this is about isn’t anything good.