~ Paige ~
The door clicks behind Colin, and my lids lift, slowly, agonizingly. There’s a hammering in my chest, beating a brutal path down to my churning stomach.
A waitress turned elitist. If Paige receives three compliments from Mother, I win.
A game for rich guys. That’s all I am.
It wasn’t my intention to eavesdrop. I came down for Colin and heard voices. Thinking to meet whoever Colin has over, I headed toward them, only to have my feet slow to a halt when I heard my name tossed out in conversation. His brother. I’d gathered that much, since they were talking about the celebration next month and their mother. Within minutes, I heard. I learned.
It’s the most effective lesson Colin has orchestrated yet.
I knew, didn’t I? Someone like Colin singling me out. I went along with it, amused, curious, and hell, it was a lot of money for my time, but I never thought there was anything beyond what he spelled out. The arrangement was farfetched enough as it was.
There were moments in the shower and twice after when we felt true, where I was as connected to him as I ever thought was possible with anyone, and I believed– hoped– it was the same for him. Even in the midst of his rolling and thrusting and we accidentally fell off the bed onto the rug, we clung onto each other, roaring with laughter. Then he was kissing me and kissing me, moving inside me, and it was the most wondrous sensation to share with him.
A bet. Dimly, painfully, I wonder what the prize is.
I’m a fool.
Rich guys like him at the prime of his life don’t get serious about women, so you’re both safe from having your hearts trampled on.
Rome was wrong. Colin was the only one on guard. I didn’t heed the warning.
Pushing the bedding off me, I climb out of bed fully clothed. If Colin bothered to check beneath the covers, he would’ve figured something was up, but lucky for me, he was too busy leaving.
The room spins once. I throw out a hand to steady my head, knocking over a lamp. It crashes to the rug with a solid bump but stays intact. With fingers gripping the side table for balance, I bend to pick it up among the scattering of discarded condom packets. I scoop those up too, not wanting Janey to clean up after us. At least, not that, and toss them in the wastebasket in the bathroom.
My feet are bare and make little noise as I return to the room where I found the ankle-length, olive-green maxi dress I’m wearing. The closet is stocked for me, and I grab a pair of sandals, a sweater, and my purse.
Janey is in the kitchen, humming to herself. She’s nice, much friendlier than Marie, but then again, I don’t have to worry about Colin’s head housekeeper any longer. As I enter, the older woman looks up with an automatic smile, elbows deep in suds from scrubbing a pot.
“Lunch is almost ready.” She glimpses up, frowning at my outer wear and purse. “Are you going out, dear?”
“Yes.” By the expectant look on her face, I suppose I should say more. “I’m going to explore.”
“Oh. Colin didn’t mention that.”
“He’s busy,” I say and leave it at that.
The frown deepens, surprise morphing into concern. “Are you all right?”
I will be, but it might take a while. A long while.
“Just a little lightheaded,” I tell her instead, and it also happens to be the truth. “Things were so frantic this morning, I forgot my vitamins at home. I thought I’d pick some up at the drug store while I’m out.”
“If you like, I’m happy to run the errand for you,” she suggests. “You’re looking a tad pale, if you don’t mind my saying so.”
“I’ll be fine.” There’s no other option. “Thanks for offering. And for everything,” I add as I’m walking away.
I’ve never been to Southampton until now. It’s gorgeous beyond my imagination, picturesque. Most people probably have to be dragged away, but here I am, looking for a path out. Rome is spending the weekend with a friend, so he’s out of the picture, not that I would call him anyway. There’s no one I can call. No one with the means to bail me out, in any case. Besides, I got myself into this mess, and I need to get myself out.
A breeze ruffles my hair as I wander aimlessly, sending chills to my bones. Fatigue is setting in, the familiar monster diligently nibbling at my muscles and strength until there are none left.
I use my phone to hunt down the train station.
~~~~~
It’s a crying shame I can’t power off my phone. That’s the problem with cell phones. I can’t pretend I’m not home to answer it. Rome is out until tomorrow, and I won’t take the risk of missing his call if he needs me.
Colin? He’s a persistent asshole who doesn’t know when to quit.
With a determined swipe, I sent each and every one of his calls to voicemail. Texts? Forget about it. On the twenty-eighth time, I got smart and put his number on silent.
Cara sets a cup of boiling water on the counter along with a packaged teabag. “Are you sure you don’t want something to eat? Maybe some ice-cream?” she asks with a glint of hope in her pretty gray eyes, no doubt planning to join me.
Hot tea and ice-cream? Yeah, not so much.
I shake my head. “Tea is good.” So saying, I unwrap the bag and dunk it. “Kind of slow tonight,” I observe offhandedly without taking my eyes off my task. Out of habit, it was something I noticed as soon as I walked through the door at Love’s.
“It’s almost ten.” She shrugs, picking up the plastic bin that’s never too far from her. “You know how it is. Late for the dinner crowd, and most kids are out clubbing and won’t worry about their stomach until late into the night.”
She says that like she’s not one with that age group, though a night out is hardly Cara’s thing.
Bob ambles out with a club sandwich on a plate, puffy cheeks ruddy from being behind the stove all day. “You eat,” he orders sternly, putting it in front of me. “You look like you’re about to fall over.”
I don’t dare deny Bob. Picking up the sandwich, I take a healthy bite under his watchful eye. It occurs to me that I haven’t eaten all day except for that orange juice at the train station. I hadn’t felt it. No hunger pangs or timed urges for nourishment. It was like the numbness had spread to my appetite.
Somehow, I found my way to Love’s, a sanctuary to complement its namesake. I knew I didn’t want to be home, and Love’s was the next best thing.
Even if the proprietor is muttering about skinny asses who don’t eat as he saunters back to the kitchen.
“Don’t listen to him,” Cara loud-whispers. “The Yankees lost.”
That explains it.
“Hey, Paige.” Ahmad ducks behind the counter to run a credit card. His hair has grown long enough for a stubby ponytail. “You hanging out tonight?”
“For sure.” I suppose I have to go home at some point, since I doubt Bob would let me bunk in one of the booths. “You’re closing in an hour, right?”
He blows out an excited breath and snags the printout from the machine. “Got that right. Can’t wait.” Tilting closer in confidence, he lowers his voice. “One more table left. I’m hoping Bob will let me go as soon as that’s empty. Got me a late date with Monica. The girl I told you about?” Dark brows waggle suggestively. “She’s coming over to my place.”
The normal me would tease him about it, but I’m not normal today.
When the door swooshes open behind me, I don’t bother to look. Air breezes by, followed by the soft squish of the vinyl booth taking a weight several feet behind me. I take a sip of the tea.
Cara glimpses over my shoulder from refilling sugar packet containers and does an instant double take. The scarlet creeping up her neck gets me curious. Subtly, I peek over my shoulder.
Damian.
He’s openly gawking at Cara, never mind Ahmad, his earlier anticipation replaced by resignation, is at his table with the plastic menu. I turn back in time to catch the object of his obsession mumbling about helping Bob while fast scuttling to the safety of the kitchen. Cara can be on the shy side, but I didn’t think she would run.
I debate it for a full minute, literally chewing on it with the sandwich.
Down the tea. Chew some more.
Wipe my mouth. Toss the napkin.
Fuck it.
Sliding off the stool, I march across the floor and, not waiting for an invitation or a greeting, slither right into the booth across from Damian.
He doesn’t appear one bit surprised to find me here. “Paige, how are you?”
I don’t bother pretending to be genial. “I’ve been better.”
With Cara out of sight, I have his undivided attention. “Are you not well?”
“Let’s not waste time on niceties. I know what you did.”
He angles his head, studying me. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about. I’ve done a lot of things, Paige. You know some of them.”
“Colin Kutter.” Two words. That’s all it takes.
Calmly, he sits back, his gaze fleeting to the kitchen before returning. “So, he told you. That was unexpected.”
My eyes narrow to slits. “How could you?”
I didn’t consider him a friend, more of a passing acquaintance. We met a few times before Colin came along, exchanged inconsequential words, and Damian was with him the first time Colin was at Love’s, but I would have never guessed he could be so callous with a fellow human being, so heartless. He seemed decent the few times we chatted. I’d told Damian where I worked. It was small talk, really. His sister lived nearby, so he mentioned he would stop in. He did. Repeatedly. Like many men before him, he couldn’t take his eyes off Cara.
“Did you have this discussion with Colin? Posed the same question?”
“What I talked about with Colin is none of your business.”
“Come on, Paige. You needed the money. He had it. It was a win-win. Why are you upset?”
Wow. This guy is unbelievable.
“I’m not a doll in a store, and you’re both way too old to be playing with dolls.”
He tips in, his hands on the clear plastic cup of water, something to hold on to. “First of all, I you were never a toy.” A sensor on alert, his eyes swing to the kitchen opening just as Cara steps out. “Second, you knew the terms. You agreed to it.”
The words were directed at me, but his focus was entirely on someone else. Automatically, I glimpse over. Cara spots me with Damian and falters, taking us in. Something indiscernible crosses her pretty features before she swiftly pushes back into the kitchen.
“I knew nothing of the wager,” I say, now that he’s no longer distracted. “Whatever sick competition you have going on with Colin? Do me a solid and leave me the fuck out of it.”
The outburst doesn’t ruffle his fancy feathers. “You’re a practical person. Bet or not, I don’t think it would’ve made a difference to you.”
This guy must have balls of steel. Nothing can penetrate. “What?”
“You would’ve accepted the arrangement regardless. Let’s face it, that was a lot of money he offered you. You would’ve been stupid not to accept, and you’re not stupid.”
“Was that supposed to be some sort of compliment?” I’m sure my expression must be comical, but I can’t find my humor at the moment.
“Just stating what I know.”
“Did I somehow give you the impression I was a prostitute?” It’s killing me to have to modulate my voice when my veins are ablaze, but the last thing I want is for Bob or Cara to overhear. “That I’d do anything for a few bucks, is that it?”
“Unless you’re telling me you accepted payment in exchange for sexual acts, I don’t see how your claim is valid. Prancing around in nice clothes is hardly…” Fixed eyes sharpening, he suddenly trails off, looking at me as though something just dawned on him. Then he’s shaking his head in disbelief. “Shit. I should’ve known. Fucking Colin.”
How could Damian not know it was inevitable? Me and Colin, almost from the first moment.
He does now. I’m sure of it. He can’t seem to meet my eyes when he had no such issue a minute ago, fidgeting a bit in unease.
It hurts to swallow, my throat is so raw. “I wanted to.” I’m not sure why I’m telling Damian this, only that I needed to tell someone. “He didn’t pay me. Not for that.” Yes, Damian knows. There were more than lessons, more than a wager that happened between me and Colin. “Didn’t threaten me or cajole me.”
I went into it with my eyes wide-open. Perhaps I should consider eyeglasses.
“Paige.” My name was a soft utter. To my bewilderment, he reaches for my fingers, giving them a strong, comforting squeeze. “You deserve to have some fun. Let your guard down. Live life. We both do.”
I’m a hot mess. That’s the only explanation, because tears gush to the surface, taking over my breaths.
That was what Rome said and look where that got me.
Without a word, Damian reaches for a napkin and offers it to me.