His Price (11 page)

Cracking a soft laugh, Hegan's hand climbed down my hip, gently cupping my ass. And when I thought I would've slapped it away, I didn't.

I liked it there, liked him touching me. Shivers swept up my spine, riding my back and flowing down to my toes. On impulse I pressed myself closer to him, filling any gap I could between our bodies.

Stepping through the archway into the dining room, Hegan glanced between the tables, his chin shifted up as he looked through the crowd of faces. “There they are. Back table to the left. My mother's name is Stella, and my dad is—”

“Brandon, I remember.” Twisting to look up at him, I asked, “Anything else I should know before we head into the dog pit?” Fluttering my lashes, a smile arched to one side.

“Yeah, they think you're my girlfriend.” Biting his lower lip, his eyes gaped open expanding beyond their limit.

“Of course they do.” The words trailed off under my breath.

I should have known.
Why else would he bring me here to have lunch with them?

So, how does a baby fit in to this charade?

He wanted to keep me, paid for my services. Which, without my knowledge, included more than just my company.

Hegan bought me in return for a baby.

Now I'm meeting his parents as his 'girlfriend.'

What did he tell them about me?

It hadn't occurred to me to ask him. Fuck, I only met him once a couple weeks ago and it wasn't exactly under normal circumstances. We had spent a brief amount of time together. And until yesterday, I'd forgotten all about him.

Well, that's not entirely true.

He had crossed my mind a few times since that night. Hegan was hard to forget, you don't see many guys like him around. A sweltering mess of sexy with a dash of personality to top it off.

It didn't help either that he had sent my pussy into a watery pool when I danced for him that night. And that stood out in my memory.

The way he looked at me, the way his hand felt when he gripped my wrist. It was a feeling I'd never experienced, a feeling of pure excitement.

Extending his leg, he started towards the table. Following closely beside him, I was struck with a cold sweat. Trickling over my skin, its icy fingers traced the small of my back.

Alright Noella, if you can play the role of Copper, you can play the role of wealthy.

I had gotten pretty good at pretending since working at Tigress. Putting on the face of someone else had become second nature. I figured this was no different, all I had to do was act; that's all I ever did lately,
act.

Inhaling deeply, I let my mind go blank.
Just be yourself. What's the worse that could happen? You're not really his girlfriend.
Hegan had swept me into the mess of his life, he hadn't done anything for me.

I didn't owe him shit.

Yet, here I was beginning to mold myself into what I thought wealthy was, and why?

Because he was paying for my weekend. But he didn't own me, he'll never own me. My spine lifted, neck following as I held my head high. I was just going to be who I was. And if he didn't like that, well too fucking bad.

I was tired of pretending to be someone I'm not.

As we approached the table, I watched his dad stand and straighten his suit. His hands came down to tug on the trim, shifting up to adjust his tie. Brandon had deep gray hair, combed back nicely, not a single strand was out of place.

Hegan's mother remained seated. She was wearing a light blue dress, small shiny sequins were layered across the top. Each tiny round spangle reflected the flicker of the candle set on the table.

If I was out and saw these two people, I never would've pegged them as his parents. He looked like he was born from a different version of the two people at the table. From what I could see the only resemblance was the slight indent of Hegan's chin that matched his father's.

“Why hello, here you guys are.
Finally.”
Brandon's stern words hit my ear. There was no joking with this man, I could see it already.

Hegan inhaled a large huff of air, I watched his chest expand slowly as he spoke. “Hey, Dad. The roads were a bit rough, but we're here. Only five minutes after the time you said, not a big deal.”

“Well, in my world you're on time if you're early. You should make note of that.”

I could feel the tension between them, it was so strong you could slice it with a knife. They stared at each other like two dogs trying to lead the same pack. Eyes sizing each other up for the fight, ready to strike if either flinched in their movements.

A soft voice floated from Brandon's side. “Honey, please.” Stella lifted her hand to his waist, gently resting her fingertips at the pocket of his suit.

“Dad, this is—”

Cutting Hegan off, I said, “Noella. I'm Noella, it's nice to meet you, Sir.” Extending my hand, he gripped it firmly.

Hegan shot me a glance. He had only known me as Copper. Now he knew something real about me.

He knew my name.

I don't think he expected that. The wide gaze, and wrinkles crawling up his forehead; it painted a clear picture for me, I'd thrown him off guard.

Did he really expect that I would sit here and be referred to as
Copper?
Please.

There was no way in hell that I wanted to be here with his parents and have them calling me by that. Copper was my stage name, and as much as this was a play, I wasn't at the strip club. This was Hegan's real life, it deserved my real name.

Besides, I hated that fucking name.

“It's nice to meet you too. I'm Brandon, this is my wife Stella. Please, sit.” He flattened his coat against his chest as he sat back down.

Turning to pull my chair out, I realized Hegan had already done that. He was standing behind me, holding the back of my seat, waiting for me to sit so he could push me in.

Seriously? No guy... And I mean no guy, contains those manners anymore. Really?

I was under the impression that gentlemen were only raised in the south now. They came in the form of cowboys, riding a bucking bronco and living at home till they were thirty just so they could help their mama.

Didn't they?

Hegan, a gentleman? Was it possible?

Could the man who had just fucked me on the counter this morning, the man that wants to force me to have his child; really contain an ounce of chivalry? It blew my mind.

“Thank you,” I said, sitting down. Cupping my hands in my lap, I would be lying if I didn't say I was nervous. My fingers braided together tightly, twitching against my thigh.

His father looked so professional; prim and proper on all angles. His mother appeared to have been bred by a royal family. Her fingers touched everything with such finesse, such grace. Stella seemed to treat every item like it was made from the most fragile material on earth.

“Noella, Hegan hasn't told us much about you. He tends to leave us in the dark these days.” Brandon flicked his eyes up, holding static for an instant,
a long hard instant,
on his son. “Where are you from?” Drifting back to his glass, his face sat motionless, elbows rested on the table holding up his chin.

Pausing briefly, I thought about how much to reveal from my personal life. Should I be honest?
Be yourself, Noella. Just be yourself.

“I live in Providence, but grew up in Coventry, Sir.” Curling my fingers around each other, I smiled coyly.

“Providence, I have an office up there. Do you go to school? Hegan decided against it. Even though I could have gotten him into any college he wanted.”

“Dad, come on. Don't make this about me. I didn't bring her to meet you just so you could rag on me the entire time.” His nostrils flared angrily, brows dipping down. “We can just—”

“I was in school,” I chimed in, cutting him off. “I had started at Johnson and Whales, was there for two years until...” Gripping the napkin, I rolled it between my fingers.

“Until?” Brandon asked, sipping on his glass of Chardonnay.

“It's complicated, but I'll be going back next year, hopefully.” Damn, his dad made me so uncomfortable. He never broke his stare, never cracked a smile; he just glared.

“School is important. That shouldn't be something you wave under the rug.” Speaking into his glass, he said, “Like my son.”

The royal touch of his wife, crawled across his shoulder. “Brandon, let's change the subject. Noella, your dress, it's...” Stella looked me up and down, her body shifting against the seat. “Nice.” I could hear the distaste in her words. Each one was lifeless, sought out as the best compliment she could find.

I could tell what she really thought; that I looked like a slut.

And I couldn't blame her for it either. She was the wealthy wife of a high profile businessman. Her world was lavished with jewels and fancy things that no person in the real world would ever think to buy.

I could bet any money the small, silver chain wrapping her wrist cost more than my car. And her earrings, cut diamonds tiered in sets, cost as much as my parents house.

These people had lost touch with reality, with normalcy.

Unfortunately, not all of us are blessed with endless bank accounts and gold taste for useless things.

“Thank you.” I ran my hands over my ribs as I said, “You know I bet this color would look great on you.” Smirking, I glanced over at Hegan. A subtle smile was peeking from the corner of his mouth.

“No Dear, I couldn't pull that off. Maybe when I was your age, but not now.” Stella laughed, a laugh of sophistication mixed with humor.

Maybe she wasn't as uptight as I thought. At least she joked about it.

“Stella, settle yourself.” Brandon jerked his head towards his wife, unhappy about her relaxed comment.

“Dad, she's joking. Lighten up, shit.” Hegan's hand fell on top of the table, knocking the silverware together.

“Hegan.
Do not
speak like that at this table.” His father snapped at him, chest holding down the air he wanted to use to yell at his son. “Noella, what do your parents do for work?”

“Dad, stop with the interrogation already,” Hegan said, palming his forehead.

I wasn't sure exactly what Hegan knew about me. He knew what I did for work, about my mother being sick. But did he also know my dad was a janitor and my mom, before the cancer, was a maid?

Either way, it was clear to me; any of what my life was, would never be good enough for Brandon Alexander.

“Yes, Brandon. Let's keep this lunch light. There will be plenty of time to get all the details.” His mother grinned at me from across the table as her eyes shifted between mine and the glass of wine to her right. “Would you like some wine, Dear?”

“Please,” I said. That woman could have offered me anything, and I would have taken it to help ease the flutters bouncing around my stomach.

“Alright. Noella, do you have any interest in government affairs?”

“Well, that depends. If you're talking about straight politics, then not exactly. If you want to talk about state budgets and how they're spent, then I'm all ears.”

Brandon tilted his head to his shoulder. “Budgets, huh? I'm a man of money, so budgets are right up my alley.” Waving at the waiter, he gestured for another bottle of wine.

I could feel Hegan's eyes burning into my neck. Twisting to look at him, his face was set with a look of confusion. I had just been shocking him left and right today. “You follow state spending?” His jaw went crooked, lip lifting up. He looked like an Elvis impersonator. A very bad Elvis impersonator.

“Yeah, a little. I hate hearing about all the debt the state is in and how they divide their money. The reps are over paid, as well as all the people underneath them. They don't spread the money well at all.”

“Well, now I have to disagree on that. The reps get paid what they are worth. The state only has so much to give.”

“And that excuses what?”

Cocking his brow, Brandon said, “Excuse me?”

“Well, as I see it, the state is constantly cutting budgets from areas that desperately need it. But, no one else gets the same cuts, none of the state employees ever get budget cuts. They all retain the same salary and get their raises.”

“Noella, you don't know what those people do. I can tell.”

“Sir, I don't mean to sound disrespectful. But those people, have no idea what the hell they're doing. If that's all it takes, sign me up. I'd love to get paid to blow everyone's money on things that don't matter.”

Suddenly, I felt Hegan drape his hand over my thigh. Squeezing tightly, he leaned into my ear and whispered. “I'm actually enjoying this.” His fingertips circled the exposed flesh of my thigh.

“Well, I may disagree with you, but you definitely pay more attention to important topics, unlike my son. Hegan, maybe you should try and take a few tips from your new girlfriend. Get your head out of your ass and open your eyes a little. Otherwise you know what's coming.”

The fire rolled from Hegan's nose, his breath was hot, ready to launch at Brandon from across the table. On reflex I gripped his hand, clenching it tightly.

“I need to use the bathroom, can you excuse me?” The two of them, fighting each other with there eyes, was really uncomfortable. I needed to take a break, get a little breather.

Pointing towards an opening to the left, Stella said, “It's right over there, Dear.”

“Thank you.” Nodding politely, I pressed up out of the seat, and headed towards the restroom.

The same feeling I had when we walked into the club struck my gut; a sense of awkwardness as every eye honed in on me. Looking straight ahead, I didn't want to take my sight off that place of safety. A place I could slink into and be away from the stares of everyone in the room.

I didn't belong there and everyone in the place knew it. Suddenly, a skinny man stepped into view. Resting his arm on the door frame, he leaned across the entire entrance.

“Excuse me, can I get through?” I asked, stopping short.

He looked to be a bit older, maybe late forties. His hair was peppered with gray, slicked back tight against his skull. A tight checkered sweater hung snugly against the small pot belly under his shirt. “So, that's a nice dress you have on.” His tongue ran across his bottom lip, slurping his saliva as he inhaled through his teeth.