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I’ve got pins and needles. I hate that. I glance down at my hand to see Eva’s fingers through mine, white-knuckle tight. Shit! Has something happened while I was sleeping? I look at the time—06:35 a.m. “Eva?”
“Huh?” Her eyes shoot to mine.
“What’s wrong, baby?”
“Nothing,” she lies with a squeaky breath.
Don’t ever play poker, baby.
“Oh, that’s why my hand has gone dead. Because there’s nothing wrong.”
Her eyes flick to our hands joined on her stomach and she eases up her grip.
“Sorry.”
“Talk to me,” I murmur, my now free hand wandering, ready to explore her body. And her breasts. All over again. Her tits are incredible. We might be late to work today. I smirk as I flick her nipple with my tongue and smile when it stands to attention.
“Will, when we’re at work... or out... It’s not just us anymore. There’re a lot of people.”
“Hmm?” So what? There are a lot of bedrooms too. We can try them all if you want.
“What I mean is, we can’t be seen together. In a personal capacity.” Can’t be seen together? She makes it sound like we’re doing something wrong.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that you’re my client and we need to keep it professional.”
My eyebrows pull together as I try to unravel her words and read between the lines. That doesn’t make sense. She’s mine and I’m hers. I don’t give a fuck who knows it.
“Back up a bit. What are you saying? Exactly?”
“When we’re at work, or anywhere that isn’t private, you’re my client. Not my boyfriend.”
“What?” I breathe. She doesn’t want me? This? Us? Fuck!
“We’ll be working together, Will. I don’t want things to get awkward,” she whispers, reaching out to touch me, but I can’t... I can’t feel it. I can’t torture myself with her touch if she’s not mine. “I just want to keep a professional distance at work and...” Distance? Fucking distance? Fuck! She may as well have said, ‘I need some space. It’s not you. It’s me.’
I jump up, off the bed, before I do something stupid, like tell her I love her and beg her not to do this to me. And I’m suddenly six years old again, waiting by the window with my coat on, the phone clasped in my hand.
‘Where are you, Daddy? I made you a picture. I’ve been waiting for hours. It’s nearly dark now. I don’t think they play football in the dark...’
I watch her cautious approach, her feet soundless on the carpet. “You know I like you.” This doesn’t seem like it’s going to be an apology. “All I’m saying is, when we’re not alone, we need to cool things off is all.” Fuck this.
“So, what you mean is, you don’t want anyone to know? About us?” Her eyes probe mine as she nods once.
No. Fucking. Chance. “I’m not going to be your dirty little secret, Eva. Either you’re mine or you’re not. You choose.” I head for the bathroom, slam the door again and lock it, before I can throw her in bed and show her what she’d be missing if she leaves me now.
Every woman wants what I can give them between the sheets, but I’ve been a dirty little secret since the day I was born. Just a mistake that should never have happened. I thought I was more than that to Eva. It seems I was wrong.
I learned to accept what I was, to embrace it even, and made a fortune doing it. I took pleasure in it. That look a woman gives you when she realises she’s been trapped? The loathing? I learned to live for it.
To make them want me, make them wet and desperate for it, and then hit them with the truth before they get the chance to do anything but cry.
You wanted me, but I don’t want you. The tables were turned and I was the one who turned them.
That wide-eyed, stricken realisation that I never wanted them. That I used them for my own purposes and hidden agenda. That I was making money every time I touched them. It hurts. I know.
That day you see the money changing hands for time spent, affection bought, it can make you doubt your worth as a human being.
***
Two hours later, I hold the gym door wide for Escape’s on-site PT as he strolls towards me, ready for his induction. “Hey, Will.” He smiles easily, reaching for my hand and shaking it.
“Hey.” I half smile in return. His name escapes me. I just read it, not thirty seconds ago, and I can’t remember it.
“Dude, you need to introduce me to the bird in the coffee bar. She’s bloody gorgeous.” My heart drops like a stone. It could be any of my female staff he’s talking about, but I know instinctively that it’s not.
“Oh? Which bird? There are a few here today.”
“Mate...” He shakes his head, smiling as he conjures up a mental image of my girl. “Light blonde hair. Bright, bluish-green eyes. A body she wouldn’t need to pay me to work with. You know her?”
“Yeah. I know her.”
“’Course you do. She must work here, right? I love this job already!” He gives me a cheeky grin. “So, who is she?” he asks after a few seconds, practically bouncing on his toes.
Her? She’s the love of my life and she doesn’t even know it. We were making love last night and now she doesn’t want to be seen with me. “She’s the event planner for the launch.”
Fuck. I should apologise.
No! No, I shouldn’t. She should fucking apologise! I didn’t stick the proverbial knife between her ribs.
“Is she single?”
This is going to be hell.
Absolute. Fucking. Hell.
In that moment, I decide I’m going to work elsewhere this week.
***
“So?” Each of my staff turns to look at me expectantly as the De Luca/Adams case is projected onto the whiteboard Friday morning. Some with much more interest than others.
Eva hasn’t called at all, despite saying it was only at work she didn’t want to be seen with me. With every day that passes, I feel...heavier.
But I can’t keep deluding myself. She doesn’t feel the same. I have to stop hoping she’ll be waiting when I get back to Escape.
“It’s done. Close the case.”
“Is it me, or does Hunter not look happy about that?” the new guy says in a loud whisper.
A huge cheer rolls around the room like a Mexican wave and Brad (I’m assuming) fills the whiteboard with a picture of me and a whole raft of statistics that he starts to read out like a movie voice-over. I scan the contents.
Holy. Fuck!
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“Will Hunter—trapping since 2005,” Brad announces, waving an arm in my direction with a grin.
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Marks assigned – 624
Landed (on their backs – thank God for mattresses)– 624 (that we know of)
Angry husbands KO’d – 36 (so far)
Angry husbands handed their arses – 387
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“Okay! Thank you!” I try to interrupt but he waves me away and continues. The new guy is looking at me like I’m God or something. I lower my head and my gaze, concentrating on my breathing. On slowing my heart rate.
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I know it’s over when there’s a round of applause.
“Yeah. Good for you, Will. Oh, Brad?” Luke says casually. “You’re missing a stat. You forgot: one daughter.” Silence drops like a lead weight.
“Hey, Brad?” My voice is tight but controlled. “How many staff members have I KO’d?”
“Err...”
“Maybe add a new column. Luke here might need it.” Luke starts to speak, but I don’t want to hear it. He’s pushed his luck as far as it will stretch.
My feet are moving on their own, prowling in Luke’s direction. “You were so desperate to land Eva Adams it was pathetic. You will never know what it feels like to be the man who wakes up beside her. You’ll never know how soft her skin is. Or the sound she makes when she comes. But at least you can dream, eh, Luke?”
I get right in his face. Nose to nose. My teeth bared and forced together. “Keep. Fucking. Dreaming.”
“I...I’m...”
“Do yourself a favour, Luke. Fuck off home. I don’t want to see your face again until Monday morning, when you will be assigned a new mark.” He nods and sidesteps, dancing around me and leaving. When he’s gone, I head for the door too.
I don’t want to be here today. I really have to see Eva.
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When I reach the car, I read the message from Karen before I start the engine.
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I’m here if you want to talk. Or whatever. xxx
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“Fuck off, Karen,” I growl and slam the door shut.
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The anger and adrenaline are still bubbling as I drive, pushing my foot lower than it should be. I glance at the speedo and ease up. Mae doesn’t need two dead parents.
I have no idea what I’m going to say to Eva, even as I manoeuvre the Merc into its parking bay at the front of the hotel. I clunk the door shut and jog up the steps. A flash of white gold reflected in the glass door catches my attention and I turn around, just a few steps from my girl as she jogs blindly towards the steps, her attention on the phone she pulled from her back pocket. She stops mid-flight. I can’t see her face but I drink her in all the same. Her hair shining in the sun, her trademark light blue jeans pleasingly tight and form-fitting. The corners of my mouth lift in a small smile.
My girl.
She starts to move again and my eyes fall to the motion of her legs. Those legs that feel like heaven wrapped around my waist.
What’s that she’s holding? As she gets closer, I can see the words printed on the long, slender box and my heart stops dead. She bumps right into me but I don’t budge an inch.
“Oh! God, I’m sorry. I...” She looks up at me at last, and then follows my gaze to the box in her hand.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” This can’t be happening. Not again.
“Will... It’s not what you think,” she whispers, shaking her head and inching backwards, down a step.
“You lied to me?”
“No! No, I—” She shrinks further away from me. Really? Why else would she be carrying around a pregnancy test, other than thinking she might be pregnant! She said she was on the fucking pill!
“I don’t fucking believe this. I thought you were different! I thought... well, fuck! It doesn’t matter what I thought, now, does it! I was clearly very, very wrong. What do you want from me, Eva? Money?”
“Eva?” Bells calls out, coming to the rescue, no doubt. “Eva? You okay, babe?”
She frowns at my screwed-up face and then floors me with one quiet word.
“Thanks,” she says and reaches for the box in Eva’s hand, before turning around again. “Can you stay with me for this, please?” she adds. Eva nods back and walks away from me as I collapse under the weight of my own demons, my fingers splayed wide over the bricks keeping me upright.
She’s not the liar in this relationship, Hunter. You are. And you just destroyed it. You allowed your past to fuck up your present.
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I pivot, my back against the wall, and lower myself to sitting.
She said she was on the pill. She said she was on the pill? That sentence replays again and again in my head until I get the message, flashing like a neon sign right in front of my eyes.
That’s what she said. And I believed her. Me! I believed her. It’s not something I’m used to, but with Eva, it was so natural that I didn’t question it. It didn’t even occur to me to not believe her. I... trust... her?
I surge to my feet and run inside, ready to tell her. Tell her that I’m sorry. That I’m a fucked-up mess. I’ll tell her why if I have to. I skid to a stop just before the stairs and realise I have no idea where she went.
I run up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and rush through the door to our suite. Mary’s startled gasp makes me jump. “Hey. What are you doing here?”
“I t’ought I’d get a start on dinner.”
“Oh. Yes. Of course. Did Eva come in?”
“No...” I spin around again and run downstairs, heading for the kitchen, and totally miss whatever Mary just said.
As I run through the swinging doors, my eyes are already scanning the room for her. Or Bells. “Hey. Eva been in?” I ask a chef I think is called Kev.
“Yeah. She’s with Bells. Bells had some kind of panic attack.”
Loo! I’ll try the ladies’ loos.
I run right up to the door but stop short when I hear sobbing.
Oh, Eva. Baby, I’m sorry.
I push the door open a crack. And I see that it’s not Eva crying but Bells, curled up in a ball on the counter.
Eva dashes out of one of the stalls and walks towards Bells. Her face is blank but her voice is raw.
“Bells...Bells, open your eyes,” she says gently. She stands in front of her and pulls on one ankle after the other, straightening out Bells’s legs. She places white sticks on Bells’s thighs, before taking her hands and pulling them away from her face.
“Just tell me,” Bells sobs.
“You’re pregnant.”
I close the door softly, without making a sound, and feel my stomach sink as my feet carry me towards my office. I know that feeling. I’m... disappointed. In myself, my brain insists. But my heart knows the truth. My heart is disappointed that it’s not Eva.
What the hell is wrong with me? I just yelled at her and now I’m disappointed?
I could analyse my reactions all day but a few minutes is what it takes. I was still angry about Luke’s jibe. I was scared history would repeat itself. But that feeling? That feeling that flares up in my heart when she’s with me... it’s hope. Hope for the future. Hope for a family? And now, I may have killed any chance of us ever having even a distant friendship.
Maybe.
The conversation with Davey and Gary fills my head, and I hope to God they’re right. I hope she doesn’t hate me. I hope she can’t hold a grudge, even if I get a black eye in the process. I’m not so keen on the no sex for a month option though.
Do you know this guy?
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I enlarge the attachment Davey has just sent me and close the office door.
It’s an image of a man sitting at a small, round table, probably in a café. He has a laptop open but the phone in his hand is angled like he’s filming or photographing something.
No. Why? Who is he?
Give me the all-clear when Eva’s clocked out. We need to talk.