Come Home to Me (28 page)

“I know this is the last place you want to be,” he said softly. “But you believe it is the only recourse you have left.”

Laney blinked. He
had
read her mind. How was that possible? Or was she simply like so many other young women who didn’t see any way out of a dire situation and turned to prostitution as their last resort?

“I’m only doing this to get back on my feet,” she answered, her voice barely audible. What had compelled her to tell this man anything?

“Your life hasn’t been easy.” He nodded. “Moved from one foster home to the next since you were eight years old. Your father has been in and out of jail since you were five, and your mother turned to drugs. The state finally took you into custody. Tell me, when have you last had contact with your birth mother?”

He looked at her with deep concern and interest written in that blue stare of his. Laney’s eyes widened. How could he possibly know all this about her? She hadn’t divulged anything about her past since coming to L.A. The last person she wanted to talk about was the woman who had abandoned her.

“Are you a social worker?”

She was no longer a ward of the state. She was twenty-one years old, and had been on her own since the day she turned eighteen. Sooner, in fact. After being bounced around from one foster home to the next, never staying long enough to make any sort of connection with her foster parents or anyone in school, she’d learned that she only had herself to rely on. 

“No, I’m not a social worker, at least not in the sense that you might think,” the old man said, and shook his head. His smile was back. “I simply want to help you find your true path in life.”

“And how are you going to do that?” Laney snapped. The state had failed her a long time ago. “What can you possibly do to change my life for the better?” Her eyes blazed, shooting him a challenging look.

“You like horses.” It was a statement, not a question. “You’re very good with horses, in fact.”

Laney blinked. How did this man know so much about her? She glanced toward the car door. The urge to bolt, even from a moving car, overwhelmed her. She balled her hands in her lap, clenching them tight until the knuckles turned white.

“Why are you here, in a city such as Los Angeles, when you should be putting your skills to use elsewhere?”

Laney stared at the man across from her, watching her expectantly. His image blurred. She sniffed, and wiped at her eyes. Anthony Sheldon’s leering face popped into her mind. She shuddered.

“I ran away from my last foster home, and kept running until I was eighteen,” she whispered. “Until I was no longer in the foster system.”

The old man’s hand reached out to her, and covered her fists in her lap. “I’m sorry for your bad experience. Your last foster parent treated you badly, didn’t he?”

Laney’s head snapped up. “How do you know so much about me?” She didn’t want to relive her experience with the Sheldons, especially Anthony. He might have been a great rehabilitator of injured racehorses, but he was a sick bastard when it came to her. For three years she’d lived with the Sheldons, the longest she’d ever been with a foster family. She loved living on the large farm out in the country, loved working with the horses. It was only when Anthony started coming on to her, after he . . . she’d run away and never looked back.

The old man shook his head, smiling. “It’s not important. What is important is that I want to help you now. You learned a lot about horses from him.”

“Yes,” she nodded.
Among the other things he taught me
.

 “You think you can make a new start by being an escort?” He raised his eyebrows at her.

Laney avoided his eyes. “That’s the plan,” she whispered.

“You’re good with horses, and would like a chance to prove your ability to rehabilitate injuries.”

Laney’s spine stiffened. Rather than ask how he knew this, she said, “Yes, but without a formal education, no one will hire me. A piece of paper that would cost me more money than I can scrape together in ten years is the ticket to working with million dollar equines.” Laney stared him squarely in the eyes. “Someday I’m going to get that credential. For now . . . I’m doing this.” She swiped her hand in front of her, indicating her clothing. Why the hell was she compelled to tell him so much? What was it about this man that made her want to divulge all her secrets?

He studied her in silence for a moment. “How would you like to put your skills to good use?”

Laney leaned forward. “Are you offering me a job working with horses?” This seemed too good to be true. It was definitely not how she had expected this night to turn out. Was he some rich horse owner who needed an equine massage therapist?

“I’m offering you a chance to turn your life around,” he said. “But it also requires certain . . . sacrifices.” His blue eyes stared straight at her.

A quick jolt of adrenaline shot through her. What did he mean by that? Laney scoffed. Wasn’t she already sacrificing herself?

“What do I need to do?” The question was out before she had a chance to even think clearly.

 “How would you like a chance at a new life, Miss Goodman? A life that you’ve been looking for?” He reached for two tumblers from the limo’s bar, and poured clear liquid from a glass container.

 “If you’re offering me a job to work with horses, I’m listening,” Laney answered, almost too eagerly.

“Miss Goodman, are you willing to do both?”

“Do both what?” Laney’s forehead wrinkled.

“Be an escort of sorts in order to get your chance at helping injured horses. I have a specific animal that is in need of your skills. If you are successful at getting him back in prime condition, I promise you that everything you’ve wished for will come true.”

Laney tried not to laugh out loud. The guy made it sound like he was her fairy godmother. Her life certainly wasn’t a fairytale.

“The horse needs some special attention, but so does its owner,” the old man continued.

“What’s the guy’s name?” Perhaps she’d heard of him if he was some big shot horse breeder.

“Tyler Monroe. If you are in agreement, you’ll meet him tomorrow. He lives in Montana.” He handed her a crystal tumbler, and raised his own glass.

Montana?
That was a far cry from L.A. Her heart rate increased inexplicably. This was all sounding way too good to be true.

Or maybe you’re setting yourself up to be the headline on tomorrow’s ten o’clock news.

Laney lifted the glass to her lips. Too bad it was only water. What did she have to lose? This Tyler guy couldn’t be any worse than Anthony. And it sounded as if she would have a place to stay while she worked with the horse. Hell. She’d get out of L.A. Obviously, she’d just been solicited to be a live-in hooker for the duration. But if it would help her land a massage job later, it wasn’t any different than what she had agreed to do for Jason.

“And what about Jason? If you’re asking me to come work for you, or this Mr. Monroe, Jason won’t be too happy if I go back on our agreement.”

“Don’t worry, Miss Goodman. I’ll make sure your young man is well compensated for his loss.”

“All right. You have a deal.” Laney drained her glass, wishing for something alcoholic to calm her frayed nerves.

“Very good.” The old man beamed, and nodded.

The limo came to a stop.

“I believe we’ve arrived at the motel you’ve been staying at. Get a good night’s rest. You have a long trip ahead of you tomorrow.”

The limousine’s door opened, and the man in the gray suit motioned for her to exit. Laney hesitated. She turned a perplexed eye on him. “How will I get to Montana?”

He smiled slowly. “We’ll see each other again tomorrow. Now go.”

Laney ducked out the door of the limousine. She turned, but the door had already closed, and the vehicle rolled away from the curb. She stared until the limo rounded a corner and disappeared from view.

Laney walked as fast as she could across the parking lot in her high heels. She’d be lucky not to sprain her ankle on the uneven pavement and countless potholes. Dread filled her.  What would Jason do to her in the morning when he came to collect the money the old man was supposed to pay her? He hadn’t given her a dime, only filled her head with dreams.

She reached the door to her motel room, and fumbled for the key in her purse. After turning the lock, she rushed into her room and collapsed on the bed. What if the old man had been full of lies? Laney sat up and stared into the darkness. What if he hadn’t?