A ringing phone penetrated Victoria’s dream. The one in which she was licking up a particular prostitute’s thigh as she worked his erection with both hands.
She groaned as she rolled to her side, her body aching with unsated lust, and she slapped blindly on her bedside table until her fingers encountered her cell. She raised the phone to her ear.
“Hello?”
“So, did you do it?”
“Cassidy?” Victoria squinted at her clock. “It’s five-thirty. On a Saturday morning.”
“Stop dodging. Answer the question.”
“I’m not—Dodging?” She rolled to her back and flopped her forearm across her eyes. “I’m asleep. Like you should be.”
“That’s cute. You think I sleep.”
Victoria could hear the distinct sounds of a fistfight in the background. “How do I get in trouble for staying late in the office, but you’re allowed to stay up all night doing your job?”
“Because my job is cool.”
“Hey.”
“I mean, oh, no, what was I thinking. I’ve seen the error of my ways.”
“You’re a dick.”
“Welp, you definitely didn’t get laid, Grumpasaurus Rex.”
Victoria rubbed her eyes. “When’s the last time you got laid?” Turnabout was fair play.
“Tuesday.”
“Wait, what?” She was suddenly very awake. She jerked upright. “Tuesday?”
“Yeah, you know, the day between Monday and Wednesday.” Cassidy sighed. “It was no good though.”
All of Victoria’s protective instincts surged to the forefront. “I can’t believe I haven’t met the guy. You’re in a relationship?”
Cassidy snorted. “Not if I can help it.”
“Oh.” Victoria frowned, not sure how she felt about that.
“God, I can hear the disapproval in your voice all the way across town, Mother Time.”
“No, that’s not it.” In fact, hadn’t she been aching for a no-strings-attached fling herself last night? She propped her elbow on her knee and cradled her forehead in her palm. Her bedraggled hair dangled around her face, and she took a big breath. “I tried to. Last night.”
All video game sounds abruptly ceased. “I’m going to need you to repeat that, because I swear, for a second, you sounded like a real woman.”
“And I already regret this conversation.”
“No, seriously. You tried to hook up last night?”
The disbelief in Cassidy’s voice was insulting, but what was worse was that she was right to be disbelieving, because Victoria couldn’t even pick a fling properly. “He ended up being a . . . ” Was she truly going to confess this? “Prostitute.” She winced.
“A—”
Victoria nibbled her bottom lip as she waited for Cassidy’s response.
Laughter, so loud and abrupt that Victoria had to pull the phone away from her ear, spilled out of the line.
Victoria hung up with a vicious jab of her thumb and flopped down in bed. Almost immediately, her phone rang again, but she silenced it and stared up at her ceiling, which was just starting to brighten with the beginning of the day.
After some sleep—interrupted though it had been—she was not so mortally angry at the man who had never even told her his name. The truth was, he had done nothing wrong. For that matter, she had not done anything wrong either. But she had sent over the drink. She had propositioned him. She’d even noticed and commented on how hard he was working with her; she just hadn’t realized he’d literally been working.
It had just been a massive misunderstanding.
Her phone chirped. With a sigh, Victoria raised it, already knowing what she’d find.
ILU. I’m sorry. Pick up the fucking phone.
When the phone rang again, Victoria answered it but didn’t say anything. Cassidy would first anyway.
“So, why didn’t you have sex with him?”
An excellent question. “With a prostitute?”
“I believe they prefer the term gigolo. And yep, that’s who we’re talking about.”
“Cassidy—” Victoria groaned. “I honestly don’t know how to answer that.”
“Hey—” The sudden gentleness in Cassidy’s tone set Victoria on edge. “I know your last relationship was painful. Really painful.”
There was something that sounded like fear in her sister-in-law’s voice. Oh, Cassidy. “Honey, that’s not why you’re avoiding relationships, is it?” Victoria wouldn’t be able to stand it if that was the reason. She wouldn’t allow her failed marriage with Jeremy to ruin another life.
“We’re not talking about me.” Any sign of vulnerability had been vanquished.
“We could be—”
“The thing is,” Cassidy said, cutting her off, “a gigolo is kind of perfect. You know, if you’re trying to avoid relationships. I wish I would have thought of it instead of sleeping with Chris, who is now making awkward take on new definitions.”
Victoria was silent for a moment. “Huh,” she said finally. Cassidy was right. A gigolo was kind of perfect. And you let the perfect one get away! “Damn it.”
“Excellent. So, here’s what we’re going to do.”
“Do? We’re not going to do—”
“I can set everything up for you. I’ll text you the details, and all you’ll have to do is show up.”
“Like my pimp?” Please, God, let this horrific conversation be a dream and not real life.
“Oh, sweet Victoria, no. Like his pimp. Silly girl.”
Victoria cleared her throat. “I think we should talk about family boundaries again.”
“Trust me, sis. You won’t be sorry.”
“Now wait a second—”
Dial tone.
“Well, shit.” New definitions of awkward indeed. “I can’t think about this right now.” She groped the space beside her bed until she found her laptop where she’d left it after drafting a response to Davis’s assistant last night. She’d known better than to send it after a couple of whiskies and some disappointment.
Work was the perfect solution to everything. So, she’d work. And she’d sweep the floor with Masterson.
But while she typed away, her mind wandered, and her defenses crumbled. What could it hurt, going along with this scheme of Cassidy’s? After all, the only opinion that mattered to her anymore was Cassidy’s, and she was, obviously, on board with this madness.
When Cassidy’s text arrived, Victoria might just read it. Might.