Gorgeous Consort (3 page)

You’ve got to be kidding me.

Kara’s eyes immediately filled with tears. “Oh my god…” She waved the moisture away but it didn’t help. “Oh my god…”

Sebastian smiled at her response but his eyes were just as full of emotion. He took the ring out of the box, and before waiting for her answer, he slid it onto her finger.

“It’s so beautiful,” she said through her tears. “I love it. I love you.”

Goddammit, my eyes are starting to water. The hopeless romantic in me was coming out.

“I love you too.” He cupped her face and kissed her, still on one knee.

Everyone in the restaurant started to clap and whistle.

Mom dabbed at her eyes with a napkin. “So beautiful…”

Even Dad was a little choked up.

Sebastian returned to his chair and held her close. “Thank you for doing me the honor of saying yes.”

“Thank you for proposing,” she said while she blubbered.

“We’re so excited to have you in our family, Sebastian,” Mom said emotionally.

“Now we finally have a son,” Dad said.

Kara and Sebastian were in their own world, the love leaking out of every poor in their body. Watching them stare at each other with nothing but love in their eyes was a beautiful thing to watch. There was no doubt on either side, and there certainly wasn’t any possibility they wouldn’t last forever. I was so happy for my sister. She was one of the rare people in the world who was gorgeous on the outside, but also gorgeous on the inside. She deserved a man like Sebastian. I finally forgot about my own pain and just basked in her joy.

When they finally broke apart, Kara turned to me. “You’ll be my maid of honor?”

Then the happiness drained from my body. Weddings were a joyous time, but it would also be the time where everyone would wonder why I, the older sister, didn’t even have a boyfriend. They would pity me, the older, less attractive sister. And I would have to deal with this every day until the wedding was over. But I put that aside, knowing I couldn’t be selfish. “I’d be honored.”

***

As soon I got out of there, I headed to my favorite bar and took a seat on the stool. Then I tapped the wood to get the bartender’s attention and ordered something strong. “Gin and coke. Make it a double.”

“You got it, lady.” The bartender slid the drink to me.

I downed half of it, felt the burn in my throat, then set the glass down. My stomach was immediately warm and some of the edge was off. When I thought about this wedding, I realized how much of a pain it was going to be. I was happy for my sister, but I would pretty much be a punching bag to everyone else.

“Drinking alone on a Thursday night?” a familiar male voice said. “Pretty pathetic.”

I turned and watched Troy sit in the stool beside me. “I don’t see you with anyone.”

“Really?” He held up his beer. “I beg to differ.”

“Then I’m not alone either.” I held up my glass. “And my company is better than yours.”

“It’s stronger, I’ll give you that.” He rested his arms on the counter, and his large arms were noticeable even in the darkness. Troy had a lean body but it was ripped with muscle. I noticed it the first time I laid eyes on him. But my attraction didn’t go past that.

“So, why are you here alone?” I asked casually.

“You go first.”

I set my glass on the coaster. “How will I know if you’ll answer after I do?”

“Because I’m not a dick.”

I cocked an eyebrow.

“Okay, I’m not a
huge
dick.”

“Just a small dick?” I teased.

A small grin broke out on his face. “You tell me. Is eight inches small to you?”

I drank my glass without looking at him. I wanted to hide the redness in my cheeks. Eight inches sounded perfect to me. I hadn’t had a good lay in a while, and Troy seemed like a guy who could do a decent job.

“I doubt you could handle eight inches,” he said. “You’re so tiny.”

“Just because I’m small doesn’t mean I can’t handle something big.”

“Really?” A cocky attitude stemmed in his eyes. “Let’s find out.” He leaned toward me, the scent of his cologne lingering in the air. His bicep touched mine, and I noted the heat searing his skin.

I turned in my seat and faced him. “You know what I think?”

“That we should head to the bathroom?” That smirk was still on his face, and I hated the fact I liked it.

“I think you’re all talk.”

He released a sarcastic laugh. “Just lift up your shirt and I’ll prove my size isn’t all talk.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean, sweetheart?”

I didn’t like it when he called me that. The word wasn’t offensive. It was just the way he used it. It was full of sarcasm and annoyance. It seemed like a term he used to subtly insult someone. “I’m not your sweetheart so don’t call me that. My name is Harper.”

“I like nicknames,” he said. “Like Battleship.”

Battleship was Aspen’s nickname. And it stuck to her like glue. “Then pick a different one.”

“Okay.” He rubbed his chin as he thought for a moment. “I need to know more about you to pick the right one—preferably in the bathroom.”

“Like I said, you’re all talk.” I challenged him with my eyes as I took another drink.

He suddenly turned serious. That smile I loved and hated disappeared off his face like a clean chalkboard. It was gone, but some of it subtly remained. His eyes lost their playfulness. “Yeah? Why is that?”

“I’ve seen you around a lot, Troy. You never leave a bar with a girl.”

“I’m picky.” He drank his beer and didn’t look at me.

“You’re so picky that you never pick up a girl?” I asked incredulously.

“Who said I never pick up girls?” he demanded. “I go through chicks like sticks of gum. They taste good for five minutes before they grow bland and dull. Then I grab a new flavor and hope for something different.”

I didn’t know Troy that well, but I couldn’t believe that. He acted like a tough guy but I knew he was just a big sissy underneath. Arguing was the last thing I wanted to do so I let it go. “So, are you going to answer my question?”

“Which one?” he asked. “You have so many.” Irritation was obvious in his voice.

“Why are you here?”

“I told you to go first.”

“Why do I have to go first?” I asked.

“Because you might not tell me the truth if it’s the other way around.”

“I’m not a bitch,” I argued.

He cocked an eyebrow.

“Okay, I’m not a
big
bitch.”

He took a large drink before he set his glass down. “Alright, you ready?”

“Ready.”

“What we share between us is a blood tie.”

“A blood tie?” I asked.

“It doesn’t leave the two of us. You can’t tell Aspen and I can’t tell Rhett. Do we have an understanding?”

I extended my hand to shake his. “Deal.”

“It’s a blood tie,” he said. “We have to seal the deal with blood.”

“Well, I’m not a freak so a handshake will have to do.”

He smirked then took it. “Alright, listen up.”

I sipped my gin and crossed my legs.

“There was this chick I was with over a year ago. We were together for a long time, about three years. Long story short, she left me. It was totally unexpected and I never knew what I did wrong. Then I saw her about a week later with some guy. Everything became clear. Anyway, I just ran into her at the grocery store. She spoke to me like we were friends.” He rolled his eyes and sighed. “Then she had the nerve to ask me for a favor. It took all my strength not to slap that stupid grin off her face.”

I nodded. “That would be hard for anyone.”

“I’m so over her and couldn’t care less about her.” His voice carried his bitterness. “But I hate her.”

“You can’t not care about her if you hate her. Hatred is a form of emotion, whether it’s positive or not.”

He gave me a dark look. “Don’t try to analyze me, alright? I’m just explaining why I’m here.”

“I’m not analyzing you,” I said simply. “I’m just trying to help you.”

“Well, I don’t need your help,” he jabbed. “Now you go.”

Mine seemed totally immature in comparison to his, but a deal was a deal. “My younger, more attractive, sister is getting married. I’ve always been the older and less successful sister living in her shadow. My family has been hounding me to get a boyfriend for a long time and now that torment will be worse. I’m happy for my sister, but I just wished this happened when I was seriously seeing someone.”

He didn’t put me down like I thought he would. Since his situation was worse than mine, I expected him to say I was acting like a brat and I needed to get over it. But he didn’t. “I feel terrible for women sometimes.” He drank his beer in silence.

“Why?” I didn’t expect him to say that.

“For women, if you aren’t seeing someone seriously by the time you’re twenty-two, you’re considered a freak. There’s obviously something wrong with you. If you aren’t married or at least engaged by the time you’re twenty-five then there’s something seriously wrong with you. It’s an unfair standard that shouldn’t even exist. Why can’t a woman be single if she wants to be? Why do people automatically assume she’s unhappy? I could be a forty-year-old single man and no one would question it. But if I were a woman…different story.” He finished his beer then left it on the table.

His words caught me off guard. Troy acted like a jerk sometimes but there seemed to be so much more underneath. But ironically, it seemed like he was trying to hide it most of the time. “That’s the first time a guy has ever understood my problem.”

“Well, Rhett and the rest of the guys would understand it too. Perhaps you forgot what we do for a living.” He played with the coaster in his hand. “I’ve seen family be brutally mean to some of the women I escort. The fact she doesn’t have a boyfriend or husband doesn’t make her a bad person. It doesn’t change her at all, actually. Its just unfair.” He shook his head at the end.

I rested my elbows on the table. “Thanks for being understanding.”

“Yeah.”

“Are your parents that way with you?”

“Not really,” he said. “But like I mentioned, men and women have different expectations.”

“Do you like being an escort?” I asked.

“I love it,” he said bluntly. “Don’t get me wrong, there are some things I hate, like women getting clingy or ex-boyfriends chasing me with a steak knife, but those are just working hazards. The rest of the time I really enjoy it. I’ve helped a lot of people find peace with their familial situations. The day they no longer need me is what I look forward to the most.”

I assumed escorting was just a way to get money. I didn’t realize Troy actually cared about what he did. Again, it was a soft side to him that I’d never seen before.

“It sounds like you might need our services,” he said. “To get you through this wedding.”

“Maybe,” I said. “But my sister just got engaged so I doubt there will be any wedding planning for at least a few months. I’m safe for now.”

“Why don’t you just get a boyfriend?” he asked.

I turned to him with an incredulous look on my face. “And you think that’s easy?”

“For you I’m sure it’s a walk in the park.”

What did that mean?
“Excuse me?”

“Harper, you’re a perfect ten. You could get any guy you want.”

Perfect ten?
“You check me out?”

“Did you think I was gay?” he countered. Then that grin returned to his face. “I’ve checked out your ass a few times. It’s nice.”

Something like this would normally offend me, but coming from Troy it didn’t. And there wasn’t an explanation. “Finding a date isn’t hard. But finding someone to love and have a meaningful relationship with is different. Believe me, if I could have a love like my sister and her fiancé, I would. I wouldn’t be drinking alone right now.”

“Relationships aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.” There was a deep sadness in his voice. He sounded completely different than usual. “If you think finding Mr. Right is going to fix all your problems, it won’t. The only person who can truly make you happy is yourself.”

“I don’t have any problems that need to be fixed,” I countered. “I just want to find someone to share my life with. If you say you don’t want that too, you’re lying.”

He turned to me and there was a cold look on his face. “I don’t.” There was determination in his eyes, like he was challenging me to disagree or call him a liar. I didn’t make that mistake.

“She really fucked you up, didn’t she?”

He didn’t react whatsoever. “No. She helped me see the light, actually.”

“Not all girls are like that, Troy.”

“Yeah?” There was doubt in his voice.

“You like Battleship, right?” I asked. “You think she’s good for your friend Rhett?”

“I don’t have a problem with her,” he said vaguely.