TWENTY-NINE
SHE HEARD HIS question, but a new urgency seized her. While she had the resolve, the gumption, she had to get the decision out.
“I’m going to tell Truman when we get home,” she declared.
“How does that—”
“About us. If you want me to tell him about Squires, I will. If you don’t want him to know, I won’t tell him. It’s your choice. Though, you should know, he always checks out the guys I’m dating. I don’t know how he does it, but he finds out things even I don’t know sometimes. That’s not to say we should tell him, I just want you to know there’s a chance he finds out either way.”
“We have to get through the vacation first.” Implying they may not be together at the end of it? That maybe there would be nothing to tell Truman? Shh, her stupid paranoia again. “If things go off with Kelly and Nickson—”
“You want to split with Donoghue.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Don’t put you and Donoghue together,” she said because, oddly, it bothered her. “Donaghue and Holly are their own pair, he’s working and she’s paying him, that’s their arrangement, not ours.” Okay, so she was paying, but that wasn’t the point. “If it kicks off and they break up, I don’t know if Kelly will stay, if anyone will stay. We’ll decide together if we’re staying or going.”
Was it reassurance he needed or was he trying to catch her out? More like he was just being the good guy she knew he was and letting her know the option was available.
“Okay. Whatever it is, we stay out of it.”
“Out of it?”
“I don’t want other people in our relationship, screwing with our heads,” he said. “We don’t do it to other people.”
She would never screw with anyone’s head. But, yeah, if she needed it, that was confirmation the Roxie conversation would definitely happen another time. A way, way down the line time.
“Were you friends?”
“Who?”
“You and Nickson?” she asked. “You said he was Squires; does it follow that you…?”
“Worked women together?”
“Not sex.” There would be plenty of his past activities that didn’t need a graphic retelling. If he wanted to tell her, needed to, for whatever reason, she’d listen. Otherwise, those mysteries could remain mysteries. “Did you hang out? Go for a beer? Watch sports? Does he know the twins? Does Conrad?”
“Conrad? Know the twins? No. He knows they exist, hasn’t met them, never will.”
Who would Baer invite to their wedding? Whoa, girl, where had that popped up from? Nowhere in particular, mm hmm, just an observation really. If all his friends were Squires related, would his entire list consist of the twins and Abel?
“You keep both parts of your life separate?” she asked. “Squires in one box and your family in another?”
Wasn’t that complicated? Understandable, yes, though it did make his day-to-day life more difficult, that was obvious.
“What I do could hurt the twins,” he said, his voice calm and even. “And if I laid out the full story for Abel, he wouldn’t understand.”
“You think he’d be mad?”
“Mad? Maybe. Not at me though. Knowing the lengths I had to go to—”
“Guilt. You’re worried he would feel guilty that you have to sell yourself to pay the bills.”
“I don’t look at it that way.”
“How do you look at it? I’m not judging, I’m curious. How did it start? I can’t even begin to—how did you find out Squires existed?”
“An agency,” he said. “A legit employment agency. I was going in, and they were giving me work, a lot of physical stuff.” Yeah, because one look at him and anyone could tell he had the strength to do just about anything. “It wasn’t enough. I wasn’t making enough. Bills were coming due. And my mom… I lost it one day, at the agency, not in anger, just frustration, I told her I’d do anything, anything, if it would make me the amount of money I needed. She gave me a card. Under the table, you know?”
“And the rest is history,” she said on a sigh. “Were you nervous? Scared?”
“I can’t say I was totally comfortable. There are times even now that I’m not totally comfortable. It’s just a given, the nature of the job, something I don’t expect to go away.”
If he was a woman, those words would be tragic. As a man, he said them with a resignation, not sadness, just inevitability. Like why should a man ever complain or moan about frequent sex with a parade of different women?
“It honestly breaks my heart that—”
“Babe, I told you, the other women… You don’t have to worry about that. They’re not this. This is…” Stopping, he rounded to wrap his arms around her. “You talk about boxes? You’ve got one all of your own, Little Skit. Nothing gets in there. Nothing but us.”
Again, he was missing the point. This wasn’t jealousy, she had a box for that herself, though she wasn’t so good at keeping it closed all the time. Her heart didn’t break because he shared his body with other women, it broke that he could admit, know, that his job was uncomfortable and wrong, yet he did it anyway. And she couldn’t tell him not to do it. She wanted to, God knew she did, but she also didn’t want to be her grandfather. In this situation, Truman would storm in and take over, he’d take action, fix everything…
She couldn’t deny having a little of that quality herself. The foundation gave her excellent grounding, an outlet to help people all the time. But it couldn’t change this, him, them. She’d never been in this position before, never had the means to fix something for someone and withheld it from them. She could make it better. She could tell him to quit. She could take over the—and there it was again. She couldn’t be Truman.
“How would you feel if it was me?” she asked, squeezing herself closer. “If I shared my body with other men—”
“God, no. Don’t go there.” His scowl narrowed his eyes in disgust. “Fuck, I couldn’t handle that.”
Was that a double standard or him getting a whiff of things from her point of view?
“It’s no different than what you do.”
“It’s different,” he said. “A lot different.”
Well, she hadn’t expected this reaction. “How?”
“I can protect myself for one thing,” he said. “Women don’t usually get violent, unless it’s something they’ve paid for, but if they did get aggressive, I could handle myself. If you came back with a single bruise, I’d…” His lips thinned as he drew in a long nasal breath. “I’d end up in prison and that doesn’t help any of us.”
“You’d never hurt me.”
“No, I’d kill them, Lil’, there’s no other way to put it. I’d kill any man who laid his hands on you.”
And, whoa, suddenly her meagre point paled. “Hound, you wouldn’t really—”
“The way I feel about you, Frey. Baby, I’d have us live in the gutter before I’d ever allow that to happen. Why would you even say it?”
Disgust still contorted his face.
“I want you to see why it’s difficult for me. It’s not jealousy. Yes, okay, I hate thinking of you even looking at other women let alone touching them, but… my heart breaks for you. If I told you that my job, whatever it was, put me in awkward and uncomfortable positions, what would you do?”
“Tell you to quit,” he said, matter-of-fact. “I’d do whatever it took to keep you safe and happy.”
Her fingers curled into his jacket. “That’s why my heart breaks, because that’s what I want to do. I want to keep you safe and happy, and I know it’s not…”
That he would never quit. Never? So how would this go?
“I want to be with you for you, not for your financial stability.”
“I know,” she said. “I know that. But if we were together… What if we decide to live together? To have kids? Couples don’t keep their finances completely separate. You couldn’t still do it if you were a father.”
“Is that where we’re at?” His disgust ebbed to concern. “Are we making plans for the future?”
Yeah, ‘cause she was so desperate to scare him off. “No, I’m not saying—”
“Baby, just relax. This is getting to know you time, that’s what you said.” And now it seemed like she was jumping the gun. Okay, yes, maybe premature. “You knew what I did when we got together. You don’t want guys laying down ultimatums—”
“I’m not laying down an ultimatum. It’s just… If you won’t consider what our life might be, what we have the potential to be, what’s the point of getting to know each other?”
“I never planned to work at Squires my whole life. Though men have a longer shelf life than women.” True. Horrific, but true. “But I can’t say I’ll quit tomorrow when I know there’s bills due. You’ve got it all, babe, and that’s great, but we’re opposites on this. Debt collectors call me; getting caught up on one bill means falling behind on another. My mom needs a lot of care, and that’s okay, I’ve made peace with the purpose of my life. It’s to support my family and I won’t let anything get in the way of that.”
He’d sacrifice his own future to secure the lives of others. It was admirable, and also a little shortsighted. He said he was okay with the money, and that he didn’t feel threatened by it. Though if that were true, wouldn’t he at least consider their options for the future? It wasn’t an unreasonable request.
His mom could be in a better facility, somewhere with professionals who might be able to do more. She could employ specialists to assess his mom’s condition and—not only could she pay the bills, but she could improve the lives of the people he loved. The twins would go to college, of course, if they wanted to continue in education. She could get them out of that apartment, into somewhere bigger, somewhere with a staff who’d make sure Abel always had everything he needed. She could take care of their pain and their poverty, and it wouldn’t make a dent; some people in her life paid more for vacations and diamonds.
“You’re right,” she said because he was in one sense. “I did know what you did when we met. I’m not trying to change you, but this would be a whole different conversation if I was a man.”
“That’s what you think it is? Misogyny? Pride?”
“No.” She exhaled. “Let’s forget it, this is a problem for way down the road.”
Maybe in time he’d get used to being with her. And the twins would find out the enormity of her means, Abel would too. Would his family demand he kick her to the curb just because she had money?
“It is, so no more money talk.” His embrace had loosened, so he tightened it up again, squashing her against him. “For this vacation. That’s my rule. We can talk about anything else, just not the money stuff.”
And she’d given him rules that he’d followed. It wouldn’t be fair to refuse his request. Especially when it was clear the only place this path led was to an argument. No drama.
He bowed to kiss her. The slow rhythm of his tongue was an apology and a reassurance. The issue wasn’t going to be easily resolved, but he wanted to be with her, she could taste it in the possession of his mouth.
When he lifted his head, he met her eye, almost looking for acknowledgement they were okay, that they were over it. She smiled, which was enough. The groove in his cheek warmed and he took her hand to start walking again.
“Will you tell me about your friendship with Nickson?”
“We didn’t have a friendship, nothing deep and meaningful.” Those last words were almost mocking, not her, just that men like him didn’t have those kinds of friendships. Maybe he would if he didn’t spend all his time—no, no more thinking like that. “He was a colleague.”
“So you never talk to the guys?”
“Sometimes we hang out. Once in a while there’s a function or event and we’re all there. We double date, that kind of thing. And Conrad throws parties at the office sometimes, we’d all get together, drink, laugh, play poker sometimes… Squires has a regular turnover. Sure, there are some guys who’ve been there longer than me, but a lot of the young guys drift in and out.”
As they needed money, no doubt.
“So there’s a good chance you won’t be able to appeal to his sense of morality.”
“Don’t even know if he has one, babe. What I do know is he seems pretty pissed this happened.”
“It’s not your fault; it’s not anyone’s fault. And it wouldn’t be a problem if he’d only told Kelly the truth. Holly asked…”
“Holly asked what?”
“If we knew for sure that he’d stopped, that he wasn’t seeing other women.”
“Money’s appealing, so it’s possible. ‘Specially with a wedding to pay for.”
He said that like it was no big deal the guy might be selling his body while also committing himself to a fiancée. How did that work? And just for the sake of clarity, it did matter. A lot.
Which took her head right back to her and Baer. If he thought it was no big deal, might he want to keep working when they were wedding planning? She couldn’t marry a man who had other sexual relationships, paid or not.
“Could you ask Conrad?”
“Nick’s not on Squires books right now. I double checked on that. But there are other gigs in town.”
He’d told her that before. She hadn’t known there was one male escort agency, turned out there wasn’t, there were several. People really could pay for any service they wanted. Bet Roxie, a new New Yorker, knew that. Didn’t stack up well as a native, did she?
“Because you know that changes everything,” she said. “His past? Okay. His present…” Very not okay, more so because his fiancée was ignorant to the whole deal. “They’re supposed to get married.”
And that sort of hung in the air. Without her saying it aloud, she inadvertently conveyed a message. The situation wasn’t supposed to be about them, and yet somehow it kept coming back to their relationship.
“I’ll ask around.”
“You don’t think Nickson would be honest if we asked?” As soon as the words were out, their ridiculousness clanged in her skull. She’d only met the guy a day ago, and the only thing she knew about him was his proclivity for dishonesty. “You should ask around.”
“Yeah.”
She bumped against him to get his attention just long enough to share a smile. Nothing had changed about her attraction to him, or her feelings. Yet her concern was twitchy. It wasn’t such a bad thing for relationships to hit sticky spots, but theirs was a doozy. What would Roxie do?