Chapter 6
6
J AMES
Two weeks before Christmas.
“That’s a wrap,” a voice rings out behind me.
“It’s been a pleasure, Mr. Sexton,” the show host, a lean brunette with curly hair, says.
Her lips curve into a flirting smile as she pulls up to her feet and arches her back, giving me a good view of her perky ass.
Smoothly, I rise from my chair, remove the microphone from the lapel of my jacket, and tear my eyes away from her without a word.
Lex glances at me, already heading to the door. My feelings exactly.
The producer greets me as soon as I walk out.
“Thank you, Mr. Sexton,” he says, flashing a smile.
I give him a quick nod and motion to Lex.
“Let’s get out of here.”
A car is waiting for us outside.
The driver takes us straight to the airport.
An hour later, we cruise at a high altitude in one of my private jets. Unfastening my seat belt, I sprawl on the couch, my gaze moving around the cabin.
It’s a new plane with round, futuristic chairs, sleek couches, dark granite floors, and black window panels.
Lex hands me a glass of scotch and slides into a nearby chair.
I take a big swig and lean back. The alcohol hits my blood just right, spreading heat throughout my body.
I relax.
“How many more interviews do I have to do?”
“You’re done. At least for now. Unless the producers of the Billionaire’s Life show come up with a different proposal tomorrow morning, your next interview is in January.”
I down the rest of my drink in a gulp, toss the glass on the table and take off my suit jacket and tie.
Lex watches me in silence as I unbutton my shirt at the neckline, prop my legs on the table, cross them at my ankles, and sink back into the couch.
Sucking in a long breath, I run my hands through my hair and glance up at the ceiling.
“I’ve had enough,” I say.
My words are met with silence.
I shift my gaze to him.
He smiles over the rim of his glass before taking a sip.
“Well, it’s worked so far,” he says.
“It fucking has, hasn’t it?”
I shift in my seat, pick up my jacket, and search inside my pocket, looking for my cigarettes. I fish one out, tuck it between my lips, and light it.
The smoke rolls into my lungs.
I hold my breath for a moment before blowing the smoke out in a long stream.
“What time is the meeting?” I ask, sliding an ashtray closer and rubbing my temple with the hand gripping the cigarette.
“Ten o’clock. But I can push it back,” he says before finishing his drink.
Smoothly, he runs the tip of his tongue across his lip.
He places the empty glass on the table and tilts back in his seat before crossing his ankle over his knee and folding his arms over his chest.
I slowly shake my head.
“No. It’s fine. The sooner I get it over with, the better. I need a fucking break. I’ve had enough of this TV crap.”
His phone buzzes.
He snatches it from the table, trains his gaze on the screen, and smiles.
“Ed’s flying in next week.”
“Good.”
His phone beeps again, bringing a secret smile to his lips.
“What’s that?” I ask, rubbing my eyes.
“Nothing.”
I glance at him.
“Lex?”
Grinning, he avoids my eyes.
“Tell me,” I demand.
“It was supposed to be a surprise,” he eventually says.
“Uh-huh... You know how much I hate surprises. This is not the time to fuck with me.”
“It’s nothing,” he says, placing his phone on the table.
“Why are you smirking then?”
Taking a long drag on my cigarette, I wait for his answer.
Staring at him, I blow the smoke to the side when he finally whips his gaze at me.
“It’s the escort I’ve hired for tomorrow evening. She just confirmed it.”
I flick my index finger up.
“The escort? Only one?” I ask incredulously.
He nods, amused.
“For both of us?” I ask again, looking at him as if he’s lost his mind.
“Yeah...” he murmurs, his lips dipping into a slow smile.
“Is this the fucking economy class?” I ask, all cocky, pointing at my luxury jet.
He breathes a chuckle.
“She’s a special treat. That’s what I was told. Plus, she’s enough company for the party, and this way, she won’t demand our time or attention.”
I study him for a moment.
“She’s an escort, for fuck’s sake. We’re paying her, so we don’t have to pay attention to her.”
He chuckles.
“What about after?” I ask.
“We can share.”
“Since when are you in the habit of not asking me if I want to share?”
“Maybe you want to take a nap, so why bother?” he says, fucking with me.
Grinning, I ash my cigarette and shake my head.
“You’re such a jerk. I said I was tired. I’m not dead.”
“You said you wanted to take a break,” he says, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
We both laugh.
“Don’t fucking play cute with me. I want to take a break from work and stop being chased by women.”
“Got fed up already?”
“Have you seen that fucking reporter?”
“She was a show host, James.”
“Whatever... And it’s not only her.”
“They come with the money.”
“What’s wrong with your money?” I say, putting out the cigarette.
He lifts his chin to me.
“And your face,” he adds.
“Fuck you, Lex. There’s nothing wrong with your face, and they don’t harass you.”
“You’re the face of the Enterprise, baby.”
“Give me a fucking break, will you?”
He chuckles, entertained.
I tip my head back and rake my hands through my hair, letting out a long exhale.
“Tell me about this escort. Why would I waste my time with her? We can probably pick someone up at the party.”
“You said you didn’t want to be harassed and wanted something different.”
“Yeah... No. I don’t. What’s so different about this one?”
“She’s one of a kind.”
“How come I’ve never heard of her?”
“She’s young.”
I cross my arms over my chest.
“How young?”
“Twenty-one.”
“Hmm… Is she with an agency?”
“No. She used to be, but now she works for herself, pretty much under the radar.”
“Really?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “So young and already on her own?”
Clasping his hands behind his head, he stretches his neck.
“Yeah. Word is she’s that good. She only does call-outs and comes highly recommended,” he says, smiling faintly.
I pour myself another drink.
“We were actually on a waiting list,” he adds.
I whip my eyes at him.
“Come again.”
He nods.
“She’s one of the highest-paid call girls in Manhattan and highly sought-after from what I’ve heard. She’s very selective with her clients and doesn’t do volume, creepy men, or weird kink. She’s the whole temptress experience and makes you feel like a god. Or at least that’s what I’ve been told. A couple of big whales might have her on a retainer, although the way it looks to me, it might be the other way around. In between, she takes clients at her discretion. You can’t find her anywhere. She’s not advertising her services.”
“How did you find her?”
“A friend of mine had told me about her. It’s all word of mouth at this point, and you need to come recommended by someone she trusts to be put on her waiting list.”
“No fucking way.”
My lips curl into an incredulous smile.
“What did your friend say?” I ask.
“She’s worth the money.”
“You talked to her?”
“Nope. She confirmed it with him before he sent me the message.”
“You must be shitting me. How do we meet?”
“A limo driver will deliver her to the party at nine o’clock sharp tomorrow night. She’ll wear a red gown and a ruby-encrusted necklace with a pendant that reads Red. Her name is Red,” he says, flashing a grin.
“Right. And I’m the Wizard of Oz. You have so much fucking time on your hands, Lex. You must’ve gotten really bored with your life,” I joke. “She knows there’s two of us?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Does she know who we are?”
“No. She knows we’ll be waiting for her, wearing ruby-encrusted cufflinks matching her necklace.”
“Are the cameras rolling too? Is this the fucking show I’m signing up for?” I say, laughing.
He gives me an amused grin.
“You said you wanted something different.”
“How much is she charging for this shit?”
“Don’t worry. It’s my treat,” he says.
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Five K per hour per client.”
“Not bad...” I say, bobbing my head. “She must be good if her hourly rate is that high. What does she look like?”
“She looks good.”
“That’s it? Have you seen her?”
“No. You don’t get to see her until you meet her.”
“What are you fucking saying, man? That’s bad business all the way. You don’t buy shit you can’t see, Lex. Do I need to teach you this?”
He pushes out an amused chuckle while I wag my finger at him.
“She better deliver, or you’ll get an earful from me,” I say. “I’m not in the mood for your fucking games.”
He’s still laughing as I stick a pillow under my head and close my eyes.
“Wake me up when we get to New York.”
* * *
RAIN
It’s been snowing steadily for the past two hours.
I pick up my coffee, take a sip, and glance outside.
It’s dark and foggy, and Central Park is buried under thick snow. The streets are painted in glittery white too.
Christmas lights flicker in the windows and the trees, brightening the view.
Smiling to myself, I take another drink of coffee, spin around, and walk into my bedroom.
I set the cup on the nightstand, enter the closet, and riffle through my evening gowns for a few good minutes before narrowing my options to a few choices and heading back.
I lay two red evening gowns on the bed before retrieving a new pair of scarlet heels from a box.
A smile tugs at my lips as I inspect them.
They’re so pretty.
It takes me half an hour to put on my makeup and straighten my hair before I stroll out of the bathroom and enter my bedroom again.
I shed my robe, lift the cover of another fancy box, and pull out a set of red lingerie.
I decide against the low-cut bra since I go for an open-back gown and scoop out the G-string panties encrusted with tiny rhinestones.
I clasp my garter belt, attach the sheer stockings, and slip my dress on.
Perched on my heels, I twirl in front of the mirror.
The fabric falls perfectly, the cut intimately following the lines of my silhouette. Longer at the back, the bottom flares out into a small train.
I pivot and glance over my shoulder, inspecting the low-cut neckline showcasing my bare back down to my tailbone.
Perfect.
I put on my ruby-encrusted necklace and drape a cloak over my shoulders.
Unhurriedly, I pick up the phone and check the time. I’m right on schedule.
The kitchen light stays on as I step out of the apartment.
I take the elevator down, saunter across the lobby, and walk past the concierge.
“Have a wonderful evening, Miss,” the doorman says, smiling as he holds the door for me.
I step outside and look up at the sky.
Flurries dance in the air, floating and twirling before getting whisked away by the wind.
It’s a perfect winter evening, as it used to be back in Colorado.
I lift the bottom of my gown and smoothly slip inside the car. The driver shuts the door and rushes to his seat.
Within moments, we glide away.
The traffic is light, so we move steadily to the destination and pull up in front of the venue a few minutes before nine.
Smoothly, I step out of the limo and climb the stairs leading to the entrance. An ocean of people fills the view the moment I slide into the lobby.
The foyer is vast, and the doors to the ballroom are wide open, yet no one rushes to walk inside.
A spiraling staircase takes the guests to the upper level, where clamor fills the air.
There is so much fervor. So many colors and sparkling lights. It’s a who’s who event, the women wearing runway evening gowns and the men sporting expensive tuxedos.
I scan the crowd, looking for my clients. Most men are accompanied by other people.
I single out a small group of men and head in that direction before I open my mantle discreetly, ensuring my necklace is in full view.
Heads turn, the men’s attention drawn to me by my blonde hair and red gown, but I read nothing in their eyes other than some casual curiosity.
Moving past them, I head to the stairs, where a few unaccompanied men wait at the top of the steps.
I keep searching when the back of a man catches my eye. Blonde hair, slightly longer at the back, rolling over the collar.
The man’s broad shoulders and confident stance look familiar.
He has a hand tucked in his pocket, his shoulders pulled back, and his posture relaxed while blocking another silhouette that catches my eye.
I crane my neck, trying to get a glimpse of the second man.
People move around, and the blonde man also pivots, blocking my view.
The second man’s back and dark hair register with me, though, and I notice his tall frame and muscular shoulders.
Something tightens in my chest.
My gaze lingers on them as they start a conversation with a couple nearby.
A male voice echoes behind me.
“May I help you, Miss?”
I spin around, a charming smile on my lips.
Swiftly, I search the man’s eyes and scan his face and cufflinks, looking for my cue.
He’s in his forties, which is older than my clients, and appears to be alone.
I peer behind him, expecting to see another man.
He takes me in, amused, his fingers brushing his chin, his golden cufflinks spelling it out for me.
He’s not the one I’m looking for.
A thought flashes through his eyes.
“Are you looking for someone in particular?” he asks, smiling lustfully.
“Yes, I am,” I say and smoothly pull away.
I turn left and amble into a small hallway where I leave my cloak with the coat check girl.
When I walk back into the lobby, the foyer is almost empty, the crowd moving steadily toward the ballroom.
Only a few couples stay behind. And then there are the men at the top of the stairs.
My gaze lands on the back of the blonde man again as he glances at the entrance and checks his phone.
He shifts slightly, and I almost get a glimpse of his profile before another couple stops next to him, obstructing my view.
I look away.
Not far from him, another gentleman locks my eyes. He’s in his thirties and alone.
I dip my gaze to his cufflinks.
Nope. Not him, either.
Sweat trickles down my brow as I become restless.
I’ve never had a hard time locating my clients. Usually, they find me as I’m not that hard to spot.
I wear red, for fuck’s sake.
Grappling with frustration, I move my focus back to the stairs.
Something irks me about those two men. Perhaps the fact that I can’t fully see them.
Smoothly, I lift my train, straighten my back, and walk up the stairs, heading straight to them.
More people break away from their group before vanishing inside, except for them, the two men waiting at the top of the stairs with their backs to me.
I shift my focus to my heels, making sure I don’t step on my gown and trip over before reaching the final steps.
It doesn’t take long, and a strange sensation rolls over me as I slowly raise my gaze and meet the eyes of the two men I never thought I’d see again.
My heart stops, and my lips quiver as my hands become damp with sweat as they stare at me… Carved in stone.
A gasp falls from my lips while I come to an abrupt halt, my blood morphing into icicles.
All I hear is dead silence.
Half turned, Lex looks at me, his expression lined with disbelief.
A step away from him, James shoves his hands into his pockets, his dark-green eyes blazing at me, his glare smashing into me like a block of concrete.
My heart shatters.
I falter momentarily as frantic thoughts about possible outcomes clash in my head.
What are they doing here?
Clenching my teeth, I bit back a curse while zooming in on their faces.
They move their eyes over me, and something happens to their expressions, dark shadows pulling over their faces.
Surprise colors Lex’s gaze as beams of pure, seething fury shoot from James’ eyes.
Lex pivots to me, his lips softly parting as he takes me in, petrified.
Daggers fly from James’ eyes.
My knees shake, my fingers trembling as I bite my lip until I feel the taste of blood.
Get a fucking grip, Rain.
And yet, I can’t stop my emotions from spinning in my chest.
I’m not that girl anymore.
I’m no longer that girl.
A voice hopelessly screams in my head.
I keep repeating those words, struggling to pull myself together.
I can do this.
I will do this.
I can face him.
He has no power over me.
And yet, he has.
I inhale a long breath and square my shoulders before taking the last few steps, reluctantly erasing the space between us.
Their eyes roam over me again, with not a sliver of emotion on their faces.
As if a door has closed.
As if something just died in their hearts.
My pulse throbs in my ears as I stop in front of them.
“Rain...” Lex murmurs.
A fist of pain crashes into my chest.
This is harder than I thought.
“Lex,” I say, trying to sound calm.
I swing my gaze to James.
A faint light brushes his eyes, drowned out quickly by a pool of darkness.
Narrowing his eyes, he tips his chin up slightly and flashes an arrogant smirk, feeding my growing apprehension.
And then he pushes his gaze down and takes me in, his rage barely contained. His lips are pressed together, and his jaw is tighter than a block of steel.
They both size me up before focusing on my necklace. My lips feel dry.
And James’ twisted smile should be enough of a dire warning.
He brings his eyes to my face, a muscle ticking in his jaw. He looks like he’s about to implode.
Panic soars through me.
“James...” I say.
Miraculously, my voice sounds calm and clear.
“Red... The fucking gutter kid, ” he mutters, his eyes slashing me without mercy.
My heart flips dead in my chest.
It can’t fucking be.
Horror floods my heart, and the air no longer moves into my lungs. A sinister grin drapes over his lips as he registers my reaction.
I shift my eyes to Lex, hoping for something different, perhaps sympathy in his gaze.
He studies me with frosted eyes, and my hope is gone.
I flick my gaze back to James, who slowly crosses his arms over his chest and brings a hand to his face.
His thumb and index finger gently rub his chin.
My eyes follow the slow motion, a gasp falling from my lips.
Oh, no. Fucking no.
This is not happening.
Ruby-encrusted platinum cufflinks sparkle on his white cuffs while dark satisfaction beams on his face.
I shift my eyes to Lex.
He raises his hand slowly, and another set of ruby-encrusted platinum cufflinks shines brightly, this time against his starched cuffs.