Escorted (26 page)

Ander’s mouth
twisted and he stared at the ceiling. “I told you so already. I like it. That’s
the problem.”

His words
washed her with a flood of warm pleasure. She wasn’t sure if she should believe
him. After all, his job was to please women in any way he could. He’d spent
years telling his clients exactly what they wanted to hear. Maybe that was what
was happening here.

But instinct
told her something different, and his words made her feel really good.

***

The next day Lori sat in front
of a computer and pulled up a database of articles from major Seattle
newspapers over the last three decades.

She shouldn’t
be doing this. The idea had crossed her mind more than once over the last
several months, but she’d always ignored it—knowing that Ander’s personal life
was his own and it was far healthier for her to keep her relationship with him
purely professional.

But here she
was anyway. She began to type in a series of search terms, various combinations
of the words “Ander,” “Alexander,” “bald,” “hair,” “son,” “businessman,” and
“disinherited.”

It took her
less than ten minutes to find the information she sought. She pulled up a brief
article from a local publication that focused primarily on business news. The
article, from twelve years ago, mentioned how twenty-two year old Alexander
Milton—the son of a very wealthy, notorious man—had refused to join his father
in business and had been legally disinherited.

Lori stared at
the story on the monitor. Stared at the picture of a very young Ander, as bald
then as he was now. Stared at the name, printed there in black and white.

It all made
sense. Everything Ander had told her about his father and about his early life.
And everything she had sensed about the way he’d been emotionally victimized as
a child. The truth of his identity closed the final gap in her understanding.

And she had no
idea what to do about it.

No idea if she
should tell him. How she should tell him. What she would say. What kind of
difference it would make.

She had no idea
what she was doing with Ander anymore. While she was still trying to ignore the
confusion of her feelings, she was honest enough to admit to herself that she’d
gone way beyond the professional with him.

But one thing
she now knew.

For the last
six months, she’d been fucking the estranged son of Peter Milton—who was CEO of
one of Seattle’s largest corporations and very likely a white-collar criminal.

Naturally, Ander could ice
skate.

He could do
everything well—from cunnilingus to military history to pillow fights. She
should have known he was an expert ice skater as well.

Apparently,
he’d played a lot of ice hockey when he was younger, so he slid across the ice
with such ease and confidence that Lori couldn’t help but glare at him in
annoyance.

She’d never
ice-skated before. She’d always wanted to but she’d not gotten the chance as a
kid. In high school, she and her best friend were supposed to visit an ice rink
so she could learn, but something had come up and they’d never rescheduled.
And, once she’d grown up, the interest had basically disappeared from her
radar.

But that
afternoon, in thinking over what she wanted to do with Ander, the idea of
ice-skating had randomly crossed her mind. Then she couldn’t think of anything
else she’d rather do. So she’d mentioned it in half-jest in her response to Ander’s
email, asking where they should meet.

And here they
were. Not at one of the big rinks, but at a newer, smaller one that Ander said
was less crowded and had more convenient public skating times. She couldn’t
help but wonder how many other clients he’d taken ice-skating in the past.

For the last
few weeks, ever since she’d found out Ander’s real identity, she’d felt weird
about just meeting him at their regular hotel for sex. It wasn’t that she
didn’t want to have sex with him. She did. And they always had sex for the last
couple of hours of their scheduled engagements. But, especially knowing who he
really was and the kind of sophisticated monster he had for a father, Lori
started feeling cheap and guilty about meeting up with him purely for sex.

It made her
feel like she was just using Ander—in the same way everyone else always had.

She knew she
still was. She knew her change of routine was mostly an empty gesture. But it
made her feel better. Made her feel like their liaisons weren’t quite so
superficial and objectifying. And she had a good time with Ander—even outside
of the bedroom.

On the first
evening she’d suggested a change, they’d gone to an exhibit of antique Asian
fans that the art museum was displaying for the month. Ander had wowed her with
his knowledge of Asian fans until she’d needled him into admitting that he’d
spent the day before doing research on them.

For their next
engagement, they’d gone out to eat and then to a newly opened bookstore,
specializing in used and rare books. They’d spent almost two hours searching
the shelves and talking about books before they’d gone back to the hotel to
have sex.

And today they
were going to ice skate. Something Lori had always wanted to do.

Now she wasn’t
sure why.

She was
horrible at it. She knew how to roller-skate and she’d done some roller-blading
in college. Somehow, she assumed that experience would help her on the ice.

It didn’t. She
wobbled around, clinging to the wall or to Ander’s arm and falling down so many
times it was mortifying. Six-year-old kids were skating better than she was.
And Ander, damn him, had to be the most patient, considerate teacher
imaginable.

She would feel
better if he would just laugh at her.

Lori hadn’t
said a word to him about knowing who he really was. She felt kind of guilty
about snooping into his personal life—when he’d been so clear with her before
about his vigilance over his privacy. Plus, she wasn’t sure what to say. He
obviously had reason to keep his identity secret, and he’d probably be mad if
she blurted out that she now knew the truth.

She told
herself it didn’t matter. He was still the same Ander she’d known for the last
six months.

But it
did
matter. It made him feel even more like a whole person. A person with a
traumatic, conflicted history and a father whom the papers and news shows
constantly characterized as heartless and money-hungry. A man who never
hesitated to wipe out anyone who happened to be in the way of what he wanted.

Had Lori met Ander
as Ander Milton, she probably would have been immediately suspicious and taken
him for a spoiled, selfish playboy. But she knew Ander now. Knew he’d probably
been one of his father’s most damaged victims.

Knowing who Ander’s
father was made her feel weird and awkward in a way she hadn’t expected.

The change in
their routine helped, and pushing her knowledge of Ander’s identity from her
consciousness helped some too. But a tiny, stifled part of Lori’s mind kept
hinting that she wasn’t going to be able to shuffle through this emotional
balancing act for very long.

Determined to
enjoy herself as much as she could for as long as she could, Lori tried to
skate another lap around the rink. She did a little better this time. Her
ankles wobbled a bit but she held herself upright and made it several yards
before she felt herself lose her balance.

She reached out
to clutch at Ander, who was skating slowly beside her and trying to give her
some pointers.

Ander came to a
neat stop in time to catch her. She whimpered in frustration and buried her
face in his shirt for a moment. Then she looked up at him and gritted out, “Damn
it!”

Ander’s lips
twitched just a little. “You’re doing fine.”

“No I’m not.
Everyone
is doing better than me. I’m usually good at things. This is ridiculous.”

His arms
loosely draped around her waist, Ander’s eyes were momentarily so warm they
took her breath away. Then he said with his typical cool composure, “You’re too
uptight now.  It’s making you clumsier than normal.”

Lori gasped
indignantly. “Clumsy!”

“Just a
little,” he qualified, with another twitch of his mouth. “Try to relax and have
fun with it. You’re in good shape and you’re coordinated. You’ll do just fine
if you relax a little.”

She’d never
dare to admit it, but a lot of Lori’s tension was caused by something other
than the new skill she was trying to learn. Being with Ander now made her feel
kind of jittery. Tense and confused. Part of it had to do with the knowledge of
his identity.

And the rest of
it was caused by intense feelings Lori was too afraid to explore too deeply.

To cover her
nerves, she glared up at him. “If you dare tell me I need to breathe ...”

Ander let out a
brief burst of laughter, and Lori felt a little wave of delight at having
amused him that way. It was always like this for her now, swinging from one
emotional extreme to another.

But then Ander
gave her a thoughtful look.  “Actually, that might not be a bad idea.” Before Lori
could do more than huff, he continued, “Think about breathing the way you did
the first few times we were together.”

She stared at
him suspiciously.

“Just do it,”
he said with an ironic smile. “Trust me.”

As incongruous
as it sounded, she
did
trust him. So, with a last roll of her eyes, she
began to breathe slowly and evenly.

After a minute,
Ander nudged her forward. “Let’s go. And move your legs with your breathing.”

It sounded
absolutely ridiculous, and it really shouldn’t have worked.

But it did.

Ander had to
help her coordinate her motion at first, but Lori soon got the hang of it.
Breathe and slide. Breathe and slide.

She made it
halfway around the rink before she started to wobble. And then she didn’t even
fall. After a while, she could make it around the entire rink by herself. And
soon she could actually enjoy it.

They skated for
a little more than an hour, but then the rink started getting more crowded. It
was a Friday night and this was apparently a favorite spot for high school
dates. Lori could feel her cheeks were bright red from effort and activity, and
her legs were getting a little tired.

So when Ander
suggested just one more circle around the rink before they left, she was in
full agreement.

She was
delighted with herself when she made it the whole way without even a wobble.
She clung to Ander’s hand and decided she understood why she’d always dreamed
ice-skating would be such a fun and romantic activity.

Lori was
brimming over with victory at her accomplishment and with giddy excitement as
they finally came to a stop and stepped off the ice.

She took off
her skates, grinning to herself and thinking how much fun she would have had
skating with her best friend and crush from high school. She kind of felt like
a teenager again right now, so she could only imagine how she would have felt
back then.

“Have fun?” Ander
asked, straightening up after he slid on his shoes. His face was relaxed and
she could have sworn he was having a good time too. Surely he wasn’t just
pretending for her benefit.

Lori stood up
and beamed up into his face. “Yes.”

He looked so
adorable in his dusky purple shirt, with slightly flushed cheeks and soft eyes
and mouth that she wanted to hug him.

Then she
couldn’t think of a reason not to.

Without letting
herself question the action, she wrapped her arms around him, pressed her body
against his, and squeezed him tightly. “It was wonderful! Thank you for taking
me.”

She felt Ander
stiffen in her arms for just a moment, before he relaxed and hugged her back.

She supposed
she must have surprised him. It should be pretty obvious that hugging one’s
gigolo out of pure
joie de vivre
wasn’t a normal activity.

But he returned
her embrace soon enough and warmly enough to keep her from getting too
self-conscious. He smelled wonderful and Lori breathed him in as she squeezed
him.

When she pulled
back, she caught a flicker in his eyes of a feeling she couldn’t quite name.
Her mouth parted in surprise as she gazed up at him, trying to catch a glimpse
of it again.

His mouth
quirked up with a familiar, dry humor. “Someone really should have taken you
ice-skating before now.”

Lori snorted.
“Yeah. Tell me about it. But they wouldn’t have been such a good teacher as
you.” She slanted him a quizzical look. “Do you have to be good at everything?”

Ander just
chuckled as they began to leave the rink. He suggested a little Italian place
just a few blocks down for dinner—remarking it was one of his favorites—and Lori
agreed. It was a mild evening and Lori enjoyed the walk and was genuinely
interested in the story Ander told her about the architect who designed the
building on the corner.

She was
evidently too relaxed, however, because she randomly spoke what was on her
mind. Rarely a good idea.

“You know, Ander,
sometimes it’s a little unnerving to be around you. I mean, you’re so good at
everything. You know
everything
.”

Ander gave her
a sideways look. “I told you the other day that I only knew about Asian fans
because I did my homework.”

Lori couldn’t
help but laugh. “I know. But, seriously, you’re amazingly knowledgeable and
competent. I generally think I’m a smart, talented person. But I sometimes feel
like an inexperienced ignoramus when I’m around you.”

Her tone had
been light but Ander came to a stop on the sidewalk, causing the couple behind
them to veer widely around them with a muttered grumble. “Lori, that’s absurd.”