Chapter 5
Coffee in hand, Jensen thumbed through his phone’s contacts as he ambled down the sidewalk.
He’d almost dialed Wyatt’s number after leaving the bar the night before but decided it was rude to call so late with personal problems. Now that it was a more respectable hour, he couldn’t hold off a minute longer.
“Hey, how’s the conference going?” Wyatt asked upon picking up.
“Very boring, but I will admit that some of the products in the vendor hall seem interesting. I’ll be talking to Mendes about upgrading our software when I get back.
” Jensen took a sip of his coffee, being careful that he didn’t splash it down his shirt as he walked back toward the event. “That’s not why I called though.”
“It’s Saturday, Jensen. We’ve talked about me working on weekends,” Wyatt said, exasperation so evident in his tone that even Jensen picked up on it.
“It’s not work related.” After a quick glance around, he came to stop at a window for a long vacant storefront.
The panel he’d skipped in favor of coffee was only half over, and he was socially aware enough to know he shouldn’t have this conversation around his peers.
“I’ve been spending my evenings with a sex worker. Is that strange?”
Wyatt made a choking sound. “What?”
“Colloquially I think he’d be referred to as an escort or prostitute, though I’m not certain on the delineation between the terms.”
“I know what a sex worker is, man. Jesus Christ, give me a minute. I can’t talk about this around my family.”
Jensen waited, drinking his cappuccino while leaning a shoulder against the old brick of the building he was taking refuge next to.
The morning was still developing in the city.
Most of the streets were shaded by the tall buildings that lined the street, and they half reminded Jensen of sharp teeth that were clamped down to keep the warm, humid air still.
There was the sound of a door shutting on the other side of the phone. “Okay. What the hell are you talking about?”
“I met a sex worker the evening I arrived.”
“How?” Wyatt asked. It was a good question. Fair even.
Wyatt had already worked at the firm when Jensen was hired and became his assistant the day he started.
As they spent five days a week together, they knew each other pretty well.
Jensen knew Wyatt hated pickles but ate them if they were fried, lied to his wife about his energy drink consumption, had two kids he adored, and insisted on a work-life balance.
Wyatt knew Jensen lived an incredibly vanilla life.
He didn’t even go out to clubs or bars to hook up.
With the way he preferred to operate, it was highly likely Jensen would have never run into a sex worker if he hadn’t checked into the Lillian.
“The hotel I’m staying at is a brothel,” he explained, tempering his voice so none of the people passing by heard. “So, what do you think? Is it strange that I’m spending time with one?”
“Back up. You’re staying at a brothel? When did this happen?”
“I checked in Thursday. You should know that, since you did my expense report.”
“Isn’t that—you know, never mind. You’re my boss, Jensen. We can’t talk about this kind of stuff. It’s none of my business what you do with your money or spare time. The less I know, the better, actually.”
“Yes, I am aware of that, but you are my only friend, and I can’t face the humiliation of asking my mother her opinion.”
She would have so many opinions that would most likely end with her packing a bag and flying over to work through the whole situation.
Jensen loved his mother, but she had a hard time letting go and allowing him to deal with his own life.
It was one contention between them they would probably never get over.
The woman would be mothering him well into his retirement if she lived that long.
Wyatt blew out a loud breath, causing Jensen to grimace and move the phone away from his ear until the sound ceased. “Okay, so you’ve been spending time with this guy.”
“Right,” he confirmed. “We talked for a while on Wednesday, then we went to dinner on Thursday and talked for hours. Last night, we chatted again at the bar before I went to bed. Should I seek him out again tonight? I quite like our conservations, but I’ve never been good at telling if the other person does too. ”
“Is ‘talking’ a code word?”
“What would it be a code word for? Oh! Sex. No, I do actually mean talking.”
Wyatt sighed. “Are you doing okay? You know it’s all right if you’re lonely or homesick. If you need me, you can always call.”
“I don’t get lonely,” Jensen said and almost laughed at the insinuation.
He imagined he would have to enjoy people’s company in order to get lonely without it.
If anything, he got the opposite of loneliness.
In social situations, Jensen yearned for his quiet house.
Even at the office, he took regular breaks in the supply room to be away from the incessant chatter and ringing phones that pierced his ears.
“If you say so.” Wyatt cleared his throat. “How much are you paying this guy to talk to you?”
“The dinner was thirty-six before tip, then I paid twenty for my drink last night, which included tip. So around sixty-five dollars.”
“He charged you thirty dollars for a dinner?”
“The restaurant charged me for dinner.”
“Oh my God, man. How much money have you given to the hooker?” he asked, enunciating each word.
“Just the twenty for the scotch because he was bartending.”
“You’re telling me you’ve spent three nights with a sex worker, and you haven’t touched him or paid him for his company?”
“Precisely.” Jensen didn’t understand why it took Wyatt so long to get on the same page.
“Like pulling teeth sometimes,” Wyatt said under his breath, and Jensen couldn’t agree more. “Honestly, yeah, it is a bit weird.”
Disappointment slugged him in the gut as he frowned down at his shoes.
He liked spending time with Daniel. Their conversations made him happy, which was a rare occurrence.
Instead of him feeling anxious at the prospect that they might talk again that night, anxiety had riddled him at the thought that Daniel might not be working.
He was worried they wouldn’t see each other again before he checked out.
But if Wyatt said it was weird, Daniel could think so as well.
Jensen didn’t want to make the man uncomfortable.
He certainly didn’t want to embarrass himself by being the idiot that couldn’t take a hint.
Daniel probably had men fawning over him all the time.
And maybe that was all Jensen was. Another man pulled in by his beauty that wouldn’t leave him alone.
Just the thought had his breakfast churning in his stomach.
Had he imagined the connection they seemed to have?
Jensen shifted his weight and chewed on the inside of his cheek.
“I don’t know much about sex workers, but they’re supposed to charge for their time, right?” Wyatt continued. “It’s really weird that he’s spending all this time with you pro bono. You better check that they aren’t billing it to your room.”
Jensen used the hand holding his takeaway cup to push his glasses up his nose, managing to get a splash of its hot liquid on his cheek. His frown deepened as he wiped the coffee off with the side of his finger. “Do you think it’s sad I’ve sought him out? Do you think he wants me to stop?”
“No, man, I don’t think it’s sad,” Wyatt said softly. “Listen, you’ll never see him after this weekend. Even if it was sad, who cares? I say go for it if it makes you happy. I’m sure he’d tell you if he wanted you to go away.”
“Okay,” he said, feeling a bit better and less shameful about the whole situation. “I should get ready for my speech.”
“Are you nervous?”
Jensen laughed and started walking again. “Why would I be? I don’t care about it. If I do horribly, Mendes won’t force me to give a speech ever again.”
Wyatt laughed with him before wishing him luck and clicking off the call.
It only took a few minutes to make it back into the large entrance hall of the convention center and the loud fray of conversation.
With a second, then third check of his emailed itinerary, Jensen wandered through the halls until he happened upon the ballroom where he was set to present.
Employees from the venue and the conference were scattered around the room, rearranging chairs, checking sound, and setting up an obnoxiously huge video camera.
He’d been made aware that the speech would be recorded and uploaded to the conference’s website when he finally gave in and agreed to do it, but he wasn’t exactly excited that it would be immortalized on the internet.
Not that he cared about the speech. He wasn’t lying when he told his assistant he wasn’t nervous about it.
Jensen was only doing it because his boss had figuratively forced his hand.
Once he was done with his current project and back from Sevier, he would be assigned to something he actually cared about.
Mendes wasn’t specific on what the new project would be, but Jensen didn’t want to ask too many questions and ruin it before it began.
Or worse, piss his boss off so much that he found himself without employment.
While he didn’t particularly enjoy his job designing the newest and most modern office spaces, it did pay for his lifestyle.
But all that didn’t mean he wasn’t anxious about embarrassing himself. Jensen excelled at embarrassing himself. Which was another reason he’d skipped the panel before this one.