Authors: Jodi Redford
“Like you haven’t been secretly sizing up my Johnson for the last three years,” Jack volleyed.
“That’d require me upgrading to bifocals.”
Trig busted out a laugh, earning a hard squint from his best friend. He wiped his hand over his mouth, doing a half-assed job of concealing his smile. “What? It was funny.”
Sunny hopped up and down, making her dark curls fly around her cherub face. “Daddy, what’s a Johnson?”
“Something you will neither see nor touch until you’re at least thirty.”
“Okay.” Halting her whirling dervish routine, Sunny hunched over and grabbed one of the Barbies.
Jack eyed Trig before shooting a glance over his shoulder. “You both heard her say that. I’ll get signed affidavits from you later if necessary.”
Trig crossed to Sunny and tousled her hair, earning a huge smile from her and the offering of one of her dolls. He accepted the Barbie with a grin. “For me? Really?”
She nodded enthusiastically. “Yep, but you has to give her back.”
“Hey, you never let me play with Skipper. What gives?” Jack groused.
“You hurt her feelings when you asked if she was a boy.”
“It was an honest mistake. You gave her a buzz cut. How was I supposed to know?”
Sunny adopted a comically flabbergasted expression. “Daddy, she has boobies.”
Miraculously Trig didn’t crack a rib while he held in his mirth.
Jack pointed a finger at his daughter. “Young lady, don’t you be sassing me. And don’t ever use that word in front of your mother.” He grimaced as he peered up at Trig. “No doubt she’ll think Sunny heard it from me. Like Ava needs any more ammunition against me.”
Trig felt for Jack. His divorce hadn’t exactly been amicable and his ex still tended to give him major crap about every little thing. That was part of the reason Trig refused to cater to Jane’s constant griping where Jack was concerned. The man already had enough to deal with without adding in Jane’s grievances—whatever the hell they were.
Dutifully accepting the doll outfit Sunny passed to him, Trig leaned his hip against the side of Jack’s desk. He watched the little girl sit next to her father and pick out the proper shoes to match the other Barbie’s dress. There was no question that Jack adored his daughter. Not many family men in this business, so it kind of made Jack an oddity in that regard. He technically didn’t escort anymore, and that probably made it easier in the long run. Still, Trig couldn’t help thinking that Jack’s responsibilities likely also added in some complications too.
“Have you ever thought about settling down again?” The question popped from Trig before he could rethink the wisdom of asking it.
Jack frowned. “F-U-C-K no.” He scratched the back of his head. “I’m going to have to come up with a better plan when she learns how to spell.”
“Pig Latin. Or maybe your own Morse code.”
“Good idea.” Jack gazed at him contemplatively. “So why are you asking about my future intentions?”
“Just curious.” Trig studied the tiny boot in his palm. “Would you have continued escorting if Ava hadn’t gotten pregnant?”
“Not sure.” Tension bracketed Jack’s mouth. “Hard to let down your guard with a client after you’ve been burned by one. Not that I regret everything with Ava.” The grimness in Jack’s features softened considerably as his focus lowered to Sunny. He smoothed a hand over her hair before dropping a kiss on the top of her head. Returning his scrutiny to Trig, Jack cleared his throat. “Having said that, I’ll be the first to warn any of you guys against getting too involved with a client. Only asking for trouble.”
Trig pinned his attention back on the Skipper doll. A few seconds ticked by before a weary exhale slipped from Jack. He handed his Barbie to Sunny. “Go show Cherrie what a great job I did dressing Malibu.”
“Okay.” Humming excitedly, the little girl hopped from the room.
Jack lifted to his feet. “Which one?”
Trig frowned. “Which one what?”
“Which of your clients did you knock up?”
He gaped at Jack. “None. Where would you get a crazy idea like that?”
“You, when you f-u-c-k-i-n-g wouldn’t look me in the eye a second ago.”
“Jesus, it wasn’t because of that.”
Jack hooked his thumbs in the front pockets of his khakis. “Then why?”
“I don’t know.” Trig restlessly shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I’ve been thinking about some of this stuff lately, and what you said sort of hit home with me.” Too close to home, to be exact. Jack’s situation more than proved marriages—or any committed relationship—didn’t last long for working escorts. Yes, Ava had basically tricked Jack into marriage, so it was no wonder they’d been doomed from the start. But who’s to say it would have panned out even if they’d been madly in love? Relationships were tough enough without throwing in the added complication of giving your heart and trust to someone who dated other women for a living.
“Whatever you’re thinking, don’t do it.”
He eyed Jack sheepishly. “I’m not thinking anything.”
“Sure you are. I recognize a sap on the edge of foolishness because I was one too not that long ago.”
“Stop kicking yourself over Ava.”
“Who says I’m talking about her?” As if he was suddenly conscious of what he’d just said, Jack’s expression became guarded.
It took Trig a moment to realize what that could possibly mean. Hell, was Jane the edge of foolishness? She’d sworn nothing had happened between her and Jack beyond a date from hell, and he believed her. His sister sure as shit wasn’t the type to keep sexual conquests in the closet. But maybe there was more to her and Jack’s story that neither of them were telling him about.
Then again, did he want to know? When it came to Jane, the fewer the dirty details the better.
“Trust me, I’m giving you this advice for your own good.” Jack slapped his hand on Trig’s shoulder. “It doesn’t matter who the woman is, or how much you think she’ll be the exception to the rule. Sooner or later, she
will
have a problem with what you do for a living, and the doubts will slowly but surely erode anything you have together. So save yourself
and
her that heartache and hassle.”
Jack’s words carved another hollow layer in Trig’s gut. His best friend wasn’t telling him anything that he didn’t already know. Still, it made it no less bitter of a pill to swallow.
The wise—the
only
—choice he had was to escort Marissa to her party tomorrow night and leave it at that. To court anything more than that would not only be foolhardy, it’d potentially be devastating.
For them both.
CHAPTER FIVE
Marissa picked listlessly at the chicken Caesar salad in front of her. A few minutes ago she’d been starved and couldn’t wait to hurry down to the cafeteria for lunch. But when it came to actually eating, everything tasted as appealing as sawdust. It’d been the same story with her bowl of oatmeal this morning.
“Are you intending to eat that or just stab it until it whimpers for mercy?”
She rolled her eyes at Jane before making a point of taking a bite of one of the parmesan-dusted chicken strips. From the corner of her vision she noticed Sidney frowning at her.
Sid rested her elbows on the edge of the table. “Honey, is everything okay?”
Marissa blinked. “Yes. Why?”
“For starters, you haven’t acted this mopey since you learned the McHottie was a fan of the sausage McMuffin,” Jane supplied.
It took Marissa a second to grasp Jane’s meaning. She wrinkled her nose. “Thanks for putting that image in my head.”
“I’m telling ya, you should have asked him if he was into threesomes. Talk about a wasted opportunity.” Jane sighed and crumpled her napkin before dropping it next to her plate. “I hope to God your current moodiness isn’t because of him.”
Sid speared Jane with a reproving look.
“Come on, don’t pretend like you don’t agree with me.” Jane tossed up her hands in exasperation. She scooted her chair sideways, clonking its metal feet on the floor. She wrapped her arm around Marissa’s waist and squeezed. “I say this with nothing but love. When it comes to OCD and men, you have a fucking PHD, sweets.”
Marissa glared at her friend. “You should talk.”
Sid pointed her fork at Jane. “She’s got your number there, Toots.”
“No, the difference is
I
fuck a man before he fucks me over.” Jane adopted a bored expression. “It’s called having the upper hand and always being a step ahead of their games.”
“Spoken like a true jaded cynic.” Sid shook her head. “You can’t lump all men together. Sure, there are some assholes out there—not all of them of the male variety, by the way—but there are plenty of guys who aren’t douche bags looking to take advantage of women.”
“Yeah, and I’ll bet ya that accounts for approximately one percent of the men in this room.” Jane leaned back in her seat and scoped the nearby tables in the cafeteria. “Maybe less.”
“Leo and Dev aren’t that way.” Sid twitched her nose when Jane started to open her mouth. “Yes, I know they’re not down here, so don’t even say it.”
Marissa’s mind traveled to her conversation with Trig last night. Despite his confession of wanting her he was willing to keep things strictly professional to protect their friendship. If that didn’t make him the complete opposite of the King of Douches, nothing would. She couldn’t point that out to Jane though without opening a giant can of worms. Instead she settled for blurting out the only other name she could conjure at the moment. “Jack. He’s a decent guy.”
Jane’s chair righted with a jarring clank. Her posture as rigid as her features, she narrowed her eyes. “Are you shittin’ me right now?”
“No.” Marissa calmly folded her hands in her lap. “I know things didn’t work out for you two, but should that automatically make him an asshole?”
“Considering the manner in which he dumped me,
yes
.” Jane’s eyes glittered with an inner fire. “That man is the living definition of prick. And I
don’t
mean that in the good sense. I bet that’s why his wife left him. His outstanding asshattery probably became too much to take.”
“That’s not fair. We don’t know anything about his marriage,” Marissa pointed out.
“And that’s another thing!” Smoke practically funneled from the top of Jane’s head as she banged the table edge with her fist, making the utensils rattle. “The man
never
talked about his wife. Not once. What divorcee doesn’t backstab their ex with petty innuendoes of frigidness or erectile dysfunction? It’s fucking shady.”
Sid gusted an exasperated breath. “Maybe he’s one of those rare individuals who don’t bad mouth or complain about their bad relationships.”
Jane ignored Sid’s wry stare and instead continued with her Grumpy Cat impersonation. “I don’t think he would have even told me he had a kid if I hadn’t seen the picture in his wallet.”
“Which you found via snooping,” Sid said dryly.
“Hell yes. Thank Jesus I am a raging sneak, otherwise I wouldn’t know shit. Not that I do anyway with him. He could be a fucking drug dealer for all I know. Or a closet cross-dresser.” She shuddered. “A vegan even.”
Marissa slid a glance in Sidney’s direction and noticed that her friend was trying just as desperately not to laugh. Sometimes Jane’s level of ridiculousness topped any chart known to mankind. Today she was obviously in fine form. Then again, Jack tended to bring out the limited edition crazy sauce Jane reserved for special occasions and office parties.
Bottom line, she was wasting her breath trying to make Jane acknowledge that not all men were players with nefarious intensions. Especially when it came to Jack Brewster. “I don’t know why we went off on this weird tangent. How about if we talk about something else?”
Jane shifted slightly to the right and continued to silently sulk, so Marissa sent Sidney a pleading look. Taking the bait, Sid cleared her throat. “Getting excited for your party tomorrow night?”
Oh Lord. Not the direction she’d wanted to steer the conversation. “Um, sure. I guess.”
“You don’t have to go by yourself, you know,” Sidney offered gently. “It isn’t like I’m tied to Leo and Dev every second of the day.”
“The Kink Geeks likely wouldn’t be against that idea though,” Jane muttered.
Sid’s lips twitched. “Yeah, probably not. But my offer still stands.”
“And I appreciate it, but I’m fine going alone. Really.” She’d never blatantly lied to her best friends before all of this. She had no choice but to do it, but that fact didn’t lessen the twinge of guilt that insisted on bulleting through her.
Jane turned to face them, officially dismantling the invisible sanctum of sulkiness she’d built seconds prior. She thrust a finger towards Marissa’s face. “Just come clean and say you’ve got some guy on the side and you’re too ashamed of us to introduce him.”
Oh, that was low. Even for Jane. Clearly she’d stoop to any level in her quest for information.
Sidney grunted. “If I was Marissa I wouldn’t introduce you either. You’d probably flash your hoohah and call him a cross-dressing vegan.”
Marissa choked on a cough.
“Nah.” Jane plopped her chin in her hand. “Maybe a cross-dressing vegetarian though. Best to initially lull them into a false sense of security before bringing out the big insults.”
Time to rudder this ship onto a different course before it sank faster than the Titanic. “There is no guy. End of story.”
Jane and Sidney stared at her intently. Oh crap. She’d been a little too vehement with her denial, and now their suspicions were really stirred up. She mentally dragged in a steadying breath and counted to ten. The only way out of this was to patch her lies with some truth. She was already in over her head, might as well paddle all the way into the deep end of the pool. “Okay, I am going with someone. I... hired him.”
Sid frowned. “I don’t understand. What exactly do you mean by paid?”
“You know.” Marissa gestured vaguely.
“Actually, no. Explain please.” Sid gave her a patient look.
Might as well spit it out fast. Kind of like ripping a band aid off without overthinking how much it would hurt. “I hired him through an escort service.”
A pregnant silence shrouded the table while her friends gaped at her. Jane was the first to break from her trance. “No way. You paid for a gigolo?”
Marissa winced. “Want to broadcast that over the PA system? I’m pretty sure that table all the way in the back didn’t hear you.”
Jane waved her hand dismissively. “Fuck ‘em. Why didn’t you say something before now?”
“Because I figured you’d act exactly like this.” Marissa hunched her shoulders. “Look, it’s just a onetime thing I decided to do. Let’s not make a big deal out of this. Please.”
Sidney hugged Marissa fiercely. “We’re not. And we’re not judging you, if that’s what you’re worried about. In the whole scheme of things, Jane has far more judge-worthy stunts under her belt. Half of them probably illegal in most states.”
“More like three quarters. And I’m a double offender in Utah.” Jane nodded proudly.
A fraction of the tightness eased from behind Marissa’s sternum. Yes, she hadn’t given them the entire picture, but it still felt like a huge weight had been lifted from her. Besides, keeping Trig’s name out of it was necessary and the right thing to do. It wasn’t her place to reveal his secret, and since there was no chance of them getting sexually involved she didn’t need to feel any guilt where Jane was concerned.
This would work out.
“Wait a minute.” Jane’s expression turned accusing, instantly dousing Marissa’s enthusiasm.
Oh shit. What now?
Her eyebrows slashing low, Jane leaned forward. “You mean to tell me you’re going to wear that granny sack of a dress on a date with a gigolo?”
Relief swept through Marissa, only to be replaced an instant later with bristling ire. “Hey, you said the dress was fine.”
“Sure, for an average guy. Not a fucking gigolo.”
“The correct term is male escort,” Marissa replied with an exasperated huff.
“Whatever. You sprung for a boy toy, you’re gonna have to look the part. And I have the perfect outfit for you.”
Oh God. Visions of mini Band-Aid dresses pirouetting in her head, she peered desperately at Sidney. “Help?”
***
As it turned out, traitor Sid was in full accord with Jane’s evil wardrobe machinations. Left with no escape plan, Marissa found herself held hostage in the Hallowed Chamber of Hoochie Excess—AKA Jane’s walk-in closet—shortly after 7 pm.
Sidney thrust a glass of Chardonnay into Marissa’s hand. “Fortitude.”
“I still have to drive home.”
Sid took the goblet and drained half of its contents before returning it to Marissa. Sighing, Marissa took a sip and allowed herself to relax. Really, how painful could this be?
The rack of clothes in front of her rustled and Jane’s arm suddenly popped through the colorful, glittery sea of fabric. Marissa took one look at the skin-tight electric blue tube dress and started backing for the exit.
“Verdict?” Jane waggled the hanger.
“That would be a big fat hell no.”
Jane’s grinning face appeared through a gap in the clothes. “Just fucking with ya. I knew you’d throw a conniption.” She stepped out from her hiding spot and held up another outfit in her other hand. “This is the dress I had in mind for you.”
Surprise spiking through her, Marissa inspected the gorgeous ruby red silk number. “It’s...
perfect
.”
Jane preened. “Told ya so. I bought it a few years ago with the delusional idea that maybe one day I’d miraculously sprout huge knockers or get a sugar daddy who’d pay for a boob job.”
Marissa sighed. “For the millionth time, you don’t need bigger breasts.”
“Maybe. But I’m not ready to give up my Wonder bra just yet.” Jane shimmied and danced the dress in Marissa’s direction. “C’mon, you know you want to try it on, my little Slutterella.”
Laughing, Marissa snatched the hanger from Jane and dashed for the bathroom. Once she was inside, she stripped and stepped into the dress. Zipping up the side, she swiveled toward the full length mirror—and double blinked at her reflection. Wow, she actually looked—
“Hot.” Jane followed up the statement with a wolf whistle as she stepped into the bathroom. “I would so do you in that dress.”
“Me too,” Sid piped up.
“Aw, you guys.” Sniffling, Marissa hobbled to her friends and wrapped them in a group hug. Someone grabbed her butt and she gave Jane a stern look. “Are you seriously copping a cheap feel right now?”
“You know you like it, hussy.”
Well, now she knew where Trig got his moves. Chuckling, she broke their three-way embrace and reached for the zipper. “Are you sure you’re okay with me borrowing it? Because I’m guessing you didn’t snag this one off the clearance rack.” She spied the tag hanging from the label and scanned the price out of curiosity. The number of zeroes attached at the end made her faint. “
Jane
.”
“I know. Coulda bought one boob with that. But what am I gonna do with one boob?”
“One-boobed sideshow freak,” Sid supplied helpfully.
“Goddamn it, why didn’t I think of that? The gobs of money I would have brought in could have paid for the other boob.”
Sidney rubbed Jane’s shoulder in sympathy. “Always a day late, a boob short.”
Exceedingly cautious with her movements, Marissa wiggled out of the dress and carefully returned it to the hanger. “I can’t wear this.”
“Of course you can. It would be a crime against nature if you didn’t.”
Marissa shoved the dress toward Jane. “No.”