Authors: Lauren Hawkeye
Turns out I don’t have to. He clasps those talented fingers of his around my upper arms, lifts me right off my feet to press a hard, hot kiss to my lips. When he puts me down on my feet he gives me a gentle push toward the door. “Go. I’ll try to get over there too.”
Clutching Amy’s phone in sweaty fingers, I squint into the dimness. There aren’t nearly as many people around now as there were right after the show, and the lights backstage have been dimmed. I think Adam could have come with me jus
t fine, but I’m not going to take the time to go back and argue the point, not right now.
I push through the half open door of the dressing room next door. It’s completely dark, and I fumble for a light switch on the wall inside the door.
I can’t find it, and decide that it doesn’t matter. Stabbing a finger at the home button on the phone, I pull up the phone function. I can’t see the phone number, just a green button that says “place call”, and frantically press it.
I hear the phone ringing... and ringing. Finally someone answers, and it’s not who I expected.
“Hello?” There’s no mistaking the smoker’s rasp that is the voice of Judy Daniels.
“Oh my God. Mom. Mom! Are you okay? Are you still at the hospital?” The words tumble over one another in a frantic rush. “What the hell happened? Beaten? You were beaten?”
My mom lets out a sharp bark of surprise. “Beaten? Who the hell told you that, honey pie?”
“What?” I ask stupidly, but I instantly understand that something’s wrong here. “You mean... you’re okay? Are you still in the hospital?”
“I was at the hospital last week to get that MRI thingie done.” She snorts, stating her opinion of our health care system. “And just like I told that doctor, I’m just fine. I had insurance send you that money back. Did it go back into your account? You haven’t been answering any of my calls.”
She makes a
humph
sound, her version of parental guilt. “Too good to talk your mama now that you almost got that fancy degree?”
“No. Mama. What the hell?” My head is spinning.
My mom is fine.
She
was
in the hospital, but for something else entirely... something for which she borrowed my money and then apparently put it back.
“Are you feeling all right, honey pie? You sound simple.” She tsks, and I listen to her light up a cigarette.
“So... you’re okay.” I speak slowly, wondering what the hell I got wrong here. Did I misunderstand Amy?
No.
No, the bitch is up to something.
“I’m just fine. I’m heading off to the casino with Ted in five. So just tell me you got the money back all right.”
“The money that you borrowed... why?” Closing my eyes, I count to ten. “You should have asked.”
“Well, I tried, Carly, but you never picked up.” She rattles off the cell number that I got just a few weeks ago... but with one digit wrong. “And I really didn’t want to. But I was in a tight spot. I needed to put the money down until I knew the insurance would come through.”
No longer concerned for her safety, I can feel my temper rising. I try to pace, but jam my shin into a table that I can’t see because I still can’t find the fucking light switch.
“You should have your own savings, Mama. I need that money for school.”
Jesus,
is all I can think. I took a job as a hooker because I thought I was broke... all because my mother borrowed money that she didn’t have. Though it’s a definite plus that she didn’t gamble it away. “And you’d have it, if you didn’t blow it all at the damn casino.”
My voice is rising with my temper, but really, after the last couple of days, this is just the icing on the cake.
There’s a long silence, but when she speaks again, I can hear that I’ve crossed the line, at least in her opinion. I’m so mad, I don’t much care, but I still don’t hang up, because I’m still trying to get over the fact that she’s not in the hospital in a coma.
“Listen here, young lady.”
Ooh
. I haven’t been called that in almost five years. “I know you’ve never cared for life here. Always wanted more, even when you were a little girl. And you’re smart enough that you’ll get it. But not everyone is like you. Not everyone has shame over living a simple life.”
To my utter surprise, I feel shame working its way through my annoyance.
“I gamble more than I ought to. I know it. But that’s the joy in my life, now that you’re gone. And a college education might make you smarter than me, but it don’t give you license to judge.”
I’m stunned. And mortified.
Because part of what she says is absolutely right.
“Mama, I—” But Judy Daniels is on a roll, and cuts me off before I can speak.
“I know I wasn’t the best mother in the world, but I did what I could with what I had. And while I don’t understand it, I’m proud of you for bettering yourself.” The words are begrudging, yet tinged with a hint of maternal pride that lets me know she’s telling the truth. “But I sure hope that you haven’t gotten so hoity-toity that you begrudge a loan to the woman who raised you, because while I made a lot of mistakes, I taught you your manners. If you were so upset, you should have called me back.”
I would have, if I’d gotten the messages. That’s not my fault. But for jumping to conclusions the day I called Mama after I left the bank? For hanging up without actually talking to her?
Yeah. I stepped in it.
“I—” I start to apologize, my fingers finally finding the switch. But t
here’s a completely unexpected metallic rasp, a spark, and then the glow of a small orange flame across the room, jolting me and making me forget my words. I shriek at the realization that I’m not alone in the room, and then my fingers reconnect with the light switch.
I turn the lights on to discover, to my horror, Miss Black perched on a small sofa, lighting a cigarette. Two of her goons—one I know is named Gabe, the other I’ve never seen before—stand with their arms crossed behind her.
She waves a finger to tell me to hang up the phone.
“I have to go now, Mama.” I speak over her protests. “We’ll talk soon.” And then I hang up and face the woman who I have no concrete reason to be scared of... and yet I am.
“Shut the door, Miss Daniels.” There’s not even a shred of emotion in Black’s voice. None on her face either, as she draws from the cigarette and studies me with deadly calm.
“
What are you doing here?” My voice is surprisingly steady. My fingers clench around Amy’s phone, which I understand quickly enough, I was never intended to use.
Amy set me up. She found out about my job with Miss Black somehow, and used it as a way to get me out of Adam’s life.
And if Miss Black has come all the way to Palm Beach to see me, then I’ve somehow managed to step in deep shit.
“It seems that Mr. Thomas suffered an unfortunate
accident
while on your date.” Miss Black idly brushes a hand over the thigh of her tight black skirt, but it’s as though she’s moving just to remember that she’s human, not a vampire. “And it seems you also didn’t follow through with the terms of your contract. He now refuses to pay. That’s a problem, Miss Daniels.”
“Are you kidding me?” Harsher words come to mind, but I know enough about this woman to tread carefully. “He tried to rape me! He pretended I was someone else!”
At the mention of the other woman who Henry Thomas wanted me to play for him—what was her name again? Anna? Adele?—Black’s expression is thunderous, but just for a second. She smoothes it out quickly, smiling in a way that makes me wish she wouldn’t.
“Mr. Thomas has
been dealt with.” This makes my heart thunder. What does that mean, exactly? “However, you have now cost me nearly eight thousand dollars. And when it comes to money, Miss Daniels, I’m afraid I don’t have much patience.”
My pulse is skittering in my veins with nerves.
Eight thousand dollars?
I don’t think I’ve ever seen that much money in my life. How could I possibly owe her that much? Miss Black pays her girls well, but that’s sure a lot more than I was expecting from the date.
“Doesn’t Adam’s payment cover that?” I wince—I don’t like the reminder that, at the end of the day, I’m a paid companion for the man I’m falling for.
My pride insists that I should pay him back, but even if Mama has in fact put all the money back in my account, the idea of just dishing out eight thousand dollars is as laughable as the notion of Miss Black actually caring about whether Henry Thomas hurt me or not.
“Oh, you naive little thing. You’ve gone and fallen for him.” She
tsks
and drops the cigarette to the floor, grinding it to ash beneath the sole of her pump. “It’s a mistake so many of us make, we who usually keep others at arm’s length.” My jaw clenches as I look into the dark, blank eyes of the woman in front of me—I can’t help but shudder. I don’t like her implication, that she and I are somehow the same.
I can’t imagine how she ended up like this, a calculating madam with no conscience. She couldn’t have been born that way.
But she’s painted the picture in my head, the one that shows me my future, without Adam... without any love, because I’ve shoved everyone away, just so I don’t get hurt.
I ignore her, plowing on. “So I wound up with Adam instead of Henry. You couldn’t find someone for Adam anyway. The only difference is that you get paid from one person instead of the other. We should be even.”
Miss Black eyes me coolly, and I find myself short of breath in the face of that kind of soullessness.
“It doesn’t work like that, my dear. I thought you were smarter than this, but it seems I’ll have to explain.” She pats the seat of the couch beside her, gesturing me to sit next to her. It’s almost impossible to make my legs carry me over, but I don’t want to agitate her more than I have to.
“There’s only one thing that upsets me more than losing money, Miss Daniels. Do you know what that is?”
I hate her tone, the condescension dripping from it. It’s a whisper from my past, the way kids at school would look at me and my hand me down clothes and trailer park address
and would treat me like shit.
But bottom line... I want to get out of here in one piece. I want to quit. I don’t know what I’ll do to make ends meet, but the thought of touching another man after Adam makes me physically ill.
“No, Miss Black.” I force the words out from between clenched teeth.
“Disrespect.” She spits out the word like it’s full of venom, her gaze searching for and holding mine. “You’re so young, you won’t understand, not yet. But when I tell someone no, I expect them to listen, not to throw extra money at me and then do as they please.
Especially since I was kind enough to try to oblige them in the first place.”
Her gaze holds mock pity as I stiffen, realizing what she just said.
“That’s right, my dear. He didn’t actually clear it with me. He wired me money and said he was taking you, never giving you a chance to sign a contract or have a say. I am surprised that you didn’t notice the lack of contract...”
Oh my fucking God.
How stupid am I? And yet... I’m kind of touched that he was so determined to have me with him that even Miss Black couldn’t scare him away.
It may not last, true enough... but I’ve never been that important to anyone. Not ever.
“But looking at him, I understand why. Dazzling people is what he does, Carly. He’s made a fortune off of it. But real relationships? He doesn’t do them. Look at his track record; he’s never been with anyone more than a month. Why else would he have come to me, other than the fact that it’s discreet and easy, with no strings attached?”
“Because he’d never met me!” I’d be lying if I said her words weren’t getting to me. But that connection between Adam and I... I just can’t believe that it isn’t real. I might have been an idiot to not notice the lack of a contract, but as she says, I was dazzled. I don’t think I’m so simple as to imagine something that isn’t there.
Seeing that she’s not getting through to me, Miss Black narrows her eyes. Her long, slender hand wraps around my wrist, and I wince as her sharp nails dig into my skin.
“What exactly do you think is going to happen here? That he’s going to marry you, and all your financial problems will be solved?” She sneers, and anger starts a low burn in my chest.
Until that moment, I hadn’t considered that being with Adam could mean the end to my financial woes. That wasn’t what drew me to him. I might be smarting from the way my mom called me on my snobbery, but that doesn’t mean that I’m going to run back and settle into life in my own double wide. It might work for some people, but it’s not for me.
And I really hope that Adam doesn’t think I want him for his money.
“Let me tell you something, Miss Daniels. Adam Kincaid is a hedonistic, self-indulgent rock star. To him you are the whore with a heart of gold, the damsel in distress—a novelty. Once he’s done with you he’ll toss you aside, and by that point you won’t even have this job left.” Reaching a hand into her pocket, Miss Black withdraws something shiny and dangles it in front of my face.
It’s a new bracelet, identical to the first—a slim gold chain with a black bead set in the centre. “Since it’s one of our other girls who stirred Mr. Thomas up and got you into this situation in the first place, I’m going to be very, very kind. I’ll only expect payment from your time with Mr. Kincaid, not the date with Mr. Thomas. I’ll allow you to work it off.”