Chapter 6
Why didn’t I think for one second that Spencer would be at this event tonight? When Hunter reached out to me a few days ago on my website, I should have done more extensive research.
It should have been obvious to me that the owner of the Las Vegas Neon hockey team would know Spencer. But my mind was stuck on the job. The money. He offered to pay me six grand to come to this event.
SIX GRAND.
Nights like these were easy money.
Before meeting up tonight, we ironed out all the details. He didn’t want a play toy or a fuck buddy for the night; he just needed a date. No spending the night and no sex? Sold.
Six thousand dollars to dress my best and wear a smile all night—it was an easy yes.
Now, the only thing that weighed on my mind was needing to tell Spencer about this part of my life. This was a prime example of why I couldn’t date when this was what I did for a living. It was entirely too messy.
I never intended to share this part of me with him, but thanks to our little run in, now I kind of felt like I had to.
Sure, we weren’t dating, and he didn’t really have to know all the details.
But when I saw his face the moment Hunter introduced me as ‘Sky,’ something inside me broke.
Then he told me to meet him by the bathrooms. The word vomit escaped, and I was practically begging him to hear me out later when I had a chance to explain.
I didn’t owe him anything. Certainly not an explanation.
But I was being pulled in a million different directions: open up and tell him, stay quiet and keep my life private, maybe this could work out for once.
Either way, I had a gut feeling that I needed to give him a little piece of me, no matter what might come from it.
It was just after one in the morning, and this event was finally wrapping up. I wasn’t worried about if I’d talk to Spencer or not because I could feel his eyes on me all night long.
“Ready?” Hunter’s voice shook me out of it.
I nodded, following him through the building and out toward the taxi line. It was part of our agreement that he would pay for my ride home but not wait with me or take me home himself. I couldn’t risk him—or any client for that matter—knowing where I lived.
“Thank you for being my date tonight, Sky. Get home safe.” He kissed my cheek in a friendly gesture and left me to wait in line for my cab.
Just as the car door was about to shut, a man in a dark suit slid in next to me, his cedarwood scent filling the cab.
“To the Waldorf, please,” he ordered the cab driver.
“W-what are you doing?” I looked at Spencer, not putting up a fight where the cab driver took us.
While fidgeting with his cufflinks, he cleared his throat. “We are going to have that conversation. I didn’t wait around all night so you could text me. We are going to talk back at my place.”
Fuck. I had planned to have a moment to think about what I was going to say in between text messages. Now, he was going to look me in the eye as I told him I worked as an escort. I wasn’t sure if I was more embarrassed, ashamed, or mortified that this was happening.
Maybe all of the above?
The taxi driver weaved in and out of the throngs of people walking along the Strip as he pulled up to a beautiful building that sparkled in the night along with every other building for miles.
“You live on the Strip?” My eyes were glued to the fancy high-rise.
“I do. It’s convenient,” he said as the cab came to a stop.
Spencer paid the driver and slid out of the passenger door, keeping it open for me to follow.
I guess I was going to keep the money Hunter paid me for the ride since Spencer had taken care of it.
“And expensive, I’m sure.”
“I can afford it.”
Our conversation stayed short and clipped all the way up to the top floor where the penthouses were. When I should have been thinking about how I wanted to start this discussion, I was too distracted by the incredible view and the expansive building I’d just walked into.
The elevator ran all the way to the top floor, spitting us out into his penthouse. This place looked like it was straight out of a magazine. Windows wrapped around the entirety of his home, the gorgeous Strip views on display.
An off-white sectional couch took up a large part of the living room.
The starch material appearing like it was made just for looks, and not for sitting or entertaining.
No pictures of family or friends filled the walls, only paintings, and intricate art pieces that probably cost more than what I made today working both jobs.
This was a total bachelor pad for the rich. And not just any kind of man with loads of money. A multi-millionaire.
“Would you like a drink?” His voice echoed from the wide-open kitchen.
“Please.” He didn’t even ask what I wanted, but at this point seemed to be a good judge of character when it came to what I liked to drink.
“Blanton’s. Neat.” He handed me the amber colored liquid.
“Thank you.” I took a sip of the smooth bourbon and followed him toward the wrap around patio.
With a flip of a switch, he turned on the gas fireplace and took a seat on one of the outdoor couches that boxed in the fire. Following his lead, I sat on the cushion next to him.
“Mind if I take off my heels? My feet are killing me.” I winced.
“Not at all. Make yourself at home.” His eyes dragged across my every movement, his gaze feeling warmer than the fire.
“This place—your place, looks really nice.” I filled the silence with a compliment.
“Thank you, Avery. If you don’t mind. I’d really like to discuss what tonight was. I think I’ve been more than patient watching Hunter’s hand drag along your lower back all night.”
My teeth bit down on my lip so hard I wouldn’t be surprised if I drew blood. With no idea where to start, I finally came out and said it.
“Hunter wasn’t a date. He was a … client.” My heart sped up as I waited for his response, watching his face for any indication of disgust.
“A client?” I could see the wheels turning in his head. The look of confusion etched into his forehead.
“During the day, I work as a pool girl. Obviously, you know that. But at night, I’m a high-end escort. Mostly entertaining men like Hunter. The wealthier crowd.” The way the words tumbled from my mouth sounded filthy.
He had to be judging me.
Even I was judging me.
Explaining this part of my life was new and I hated it. I never had to describe this part of myself to anyone outside of my friends who already knew everything about me.
His dark gaze was stuck on his bourbon, swirling the liquid in small circles before he entertained a taste.
I was dying to know what was going on in that head of his.
This thing between Spencer and me, it was …
nothing. We had just met each other. So, why the hell did I care so much about what he thought of me?
I woke up every damn day ashamed of what I was doing.
Why I was doing it.
The mornings I woke up in random hotel rooms. The fake smile I had plastered across my face at events like the one tonight, pretending I was someone who had been in Hunter’s life for as far back as he could remember.
The ache I buried deep inside me that I couldn’t actually be with someone I enjoyed being around because I belonged to whoever bought me for the night.
Every single thing about this job brought me shame. But it was the one thing getting me closer to paying off my ex-boyfriend. The bigger the job, the more jobs I took on, I’d be that much closer to paying everything off, and put this chapter of my life behind me.
“Forgive me for asking, but since you only take on wealthy clients, is that why you entertained conversation with me at the bar that night?” With a deep breath, his fingers combed through his hair.
“I know it looks bad, but I promise that wasn’t the case.
I was off work that night.” My eyes shifted from the lint on my dress to the dark brown irises intently staring back at me.
“A handsome guy across the bar bought me a drink. It … It just felt good to forget who I was for a night. To entertain conversation with someone who didn’t purchase my time.
” Tipping my head back, I forced the tears forming in my eyes to go away.
“By the way it sounds, you aren’t thrilled to be doing what you’re doing. So, why do it?” The question I was waiting for but dreaded every moment of.
Taking a deep breath, I remained quiet. Unsure of how to answer his question.
“Because I have to,” the words eventually slipped out.
Placing his now empty drink on the end table, he inched closer to me, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. The confusion must have been evident on my face when Spencer said, “You shouldn’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
“Yeah, I shouldn’t. But that’s not the world I live in.” The differences between Spencer and me couldn’t be more dramatic. He fell asleep to the panoramic view of the city lights every night while I locked the door to my van, spooned a baseball bat, and hoped for the best.
We were fire and ice.
Oil and water.
Innocent and guilty.