More like a waste of my money—but sure, we’ll go with shame.
Here I sat in a romantic restaurant, with sleek lights and flickering candles, velvet couches and tasteful music, and all I could think was that it would be ashameif I left skid marks on the floor from sprinting out the front door so fast.
I managed to nod, opening my mouth to reply, but the server approached before I could answer. I ordered a sweet tea and passedon appetizers. Jimmy had a lowball glass in front of him, filled with something clear and bubbly, a lime wedge floating in the ice.
When we were alone again, I fidgeted with the napkin on the table in front of me.
“I’m still not sure this is a great idea,” I admitted to him. “I don’t normally act on impulse, but my friend was ... persuasive.”
He smiled. “Those are the best kinds of friends to have.”
The thought of Lauren had me relaxing a touch. Lord, if she were here, she’d smack me on the back of the head and tell me to get my money’s worth.
But what would that entail? I thought about the seduction book Griffin had checked out from the library and tried to swallow a nervous burst of laughter, settling on a conspicuous clearing of my throat instead.
Jimmy leaned forward, clasping his hands lightly on the table. His eyes locked on mine, and it caused a slightly unpleasant pitching motion in my stomach, like I was dangling off the side of a boat. “Now, tell me how I can help you, Ruby.”
There was another pause in the conversation when my sweet tea arrived, and I took a grateful sip, because gawd, my throat felt like it was lined with sandpaper. My fingers were cold and tingly, and underneath the table, my foot tapped restlessly. Turned out fake dates that one paid for weren’t actually less nerve-racking than real dates.
Lauren was the only person I’d ever explained this to. Griffin, to his credit, almost got me to admit why I’d done it. Almost. Five more minutes with his relentless charm and obnoxious good looks, and I might have caved, and I wasn’t sure he’d ever let me live that down. But now? Allowing myself a moment of vulnerability sounded like actual hell. I didn’t want to tell this man jack crap, and that was a much bigger problem than I was willing to face at the moment.
I cleared my throat again. “Maybe it would be more beneficial for you to tell me how you typically proceed with a client.”
“Of course,” he answered. His eyes were unwavering, and under normal circumstances, I might have found it comforting that he seemedso sure. Instead, I felt like a bug pinned to a corkboard, ready to be dissected. “Sometimes my job is as simple as providing company at an event where a client doesn’t want to show up alone. I’ve attended weddings, family reunions, school reunions, because the thought of arriving by themselves is more than they can bear.”
He took a slow sip of his drink, then set it down on the table with a quiet click.
“Other clients want more”—he paused with a meaningful tilt of his head—“in-depth work. They’re trying to overcome a mental block or need help gaining confidence. In or out of the bedroom.”
In-depth work in or out of the bedroom.Swear to high heaven, if this guy started giving me escort acronyms for the types of services he provided, I was going to set the land speed record back to my car. If he started saying things like,We could build a meaningful friendship, orI can imagine very entertaining ways to pass the time, I’d lose it.
It was the chin, I decided.
If there’d been no Griffin at the bakery yesterday, I think I would’ve found Jimmy cute. But now, all I could see was a weak chin that needed some stubble. The longer I stared at his chin—because it was better than trying to meet that unrelenting eye contact—the more I found myself surprisingly at peace with the money I’d just wasted.
“Jimmy?” I said quietly.
He grinned a crooked grin. Probably thought it was very appealing too. “Yes, Ruby?”
“Thank you for the drink. And for flying down here. But I can’t do this.”
His mouth fell open, brow furrowing in a brief pinch, but he recovered quickly. “Wait, just like that?”
It was amazing how something as simple as making the decision made me feel a thousand times lighter. “Just like that,” I told him, feeling a little bit like I’d flipped a different sort of switch in my head.
There was no comfort level with this guy, and no matter what we did—whatin-depth workhe was capable of—it wouldn’t appear like magic.
As I said my goodbyes, got back in the car, and entered the address from Griffin into my phone, a tight band of tension unlocked from around my chest.
That was a form of comfort, right? Knowing where I was headed ... and something invisible eased inside me. I chewed on my bottom lip as I drove, brain racing with possibilities.
Chapter EightGriffin
It wasn’t until an alarm was screaming at me in the kitchen that I realized how much time had passed.
“Shit.” I snapped the book shut and tossed it onto the couch, jogging into the kitchen when I saw wisps of smoke billowing from the oven. “Shit, shit, shit.”
Why had I burned my dinner?