Page 18 of Players Like Us
“Are you serious? Are you really asking me that question?” The jerk laughed, pushed his empty glass to the edge of the table for a refill. “Should I pretend to forget the women whose last names you didn’t even know before you took them home for the night, the afternoon, or wherever, for whatever? Do not get all righteous on me.”
There’d been too many years of sex with strangers and sex with people he didn’t care about or didn’t even like. But the past few years he’d changed his ways, settled on one woman at a time, and while he might not love them, he did like them, had even grown fond of one or two. They were predictable, they were not overly demanding, they were fine. Francesca was the latest “woman in his life” but three months ago she’d started talking about moving in with him, wanting more, looking at her biological clock… Not in regard to children, but to her body and her face and the wrinkles and sagging. That’s when the worrying escalated. How long will this face and body be in demand before I have to start seriously committing to surgeries and a maintenance schedule that will just allow me to compete? I’ll lose the cover gigs… Lose the advertising and the invitations… What will I do then?
She’d looked at him with those pale blue eyes—full lips pulled into a pout that had already invested in too many injections—and teared up. Francesca wanted a long-term commitment. That’s when he knew he had to tell her what lay deep inside him, because he was fond of her, and she did deserve better. I can’t give you what you need, and you deserve someone who can.
You can’t now, or you can’t ever? That tear slid down those high cheekbones, trickled to the elegant neck. One sniff, two, and then, Neal?
I’m not that guy, Francesca. Find someone who is. He pulled her close, planted a kiss on her forehead and told her once again that she deserved better.
Of course, she spent the next two weeks trying to convince him he could give her more if he just opened his heart. What she didn’t understand was he couldn’t do that—not with her, probably not with anyone. She didn’t know about his screwed-up childhood, the tyrant father, the fragile mother, the perfect brother, the twin sister who cried when someone looked at her too long. And him, the boy who kept his real feelings and his fears tucked deep inside while he showed the outside world a prankster who teased and pretended life was a big joke.
And he’d certainly never told her what he’d witnessed at thirteen that had changed his life and his ability to believe in good, truth, and love. A boy doesn’t witness his father’s secretary leaving the family library in stocking feet, blouse half buttoned, bra sticking out of her purse. That vision brands itself in the boy’s soul, weighs him down, and forces his soul to close. Staying quiet is the only way to protect his brother and sister. And if the rest of the world believes Neal is good for nothing, let them. His siblings are safe, even if he’s been destroyed.
It would take years for Neal to fight past the belief that he wasn’t good enough...that he was unworthy...
“No comment, Neal? Taking a long, winding trip down memory lane, recalling all the nameless conquests?”
“Not exactly. I’d like to think we’ve matured since we were twenty-two.”
“Matured?” Those green eyes narrowed, sparked. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve matured. I’m more selective now, with more discerning tastes…like Rachel Reese.”
“That’s not exactly what I meant.” Neal polished off his drink, slid his glass to the edge of the table and looked for Dominic. The staff knew Neal and Dominic were good friends but they didn’t know the extent of that friendship or that it bled into a business partnership. It was better to remain silent and when Neal showed up in the afternoons or made his way into Dominic’s office, which was also Neal’s office—the staff believed he was just filling his day, offering advice on the menu or cocktails selections based on years of time spent in restaurants. “Is this new one a conquest or are you looking for Paulina’s replacement?” Paulina had been Simon’s girlfriend until she demanded a ring and he refused. Everyone knew about it, the scene, the tears, Simon’s insistence that he wasn’t ready.
The expression on the guy’s face said Neal was way off base with that question. “You mean am I interested in a relationship with her, like long-term?”
“Right. Long-term.”
“Of course not. Why would you think that?” The jerk shook his head, dragged a hand over his face. The light above caught the gleam of his manicured nails, made Neal half wish Rachel Reese’s brother were here so he could drive a fist into the guy’s face.
“You seemed pretty intrigued.”
A flash of white teeth and then “Ah, I see what’s happening here. You’re interested in her.” A laugh, followed by “No problem, I’ll share, but I spotted her first so you’ll have to wait your turn.”
Neal eyed him. “Wait my turn?”
“Right. She’s mine for now.” Pause and a soft “Rachel wasn’t a casual meet-and-greet in a coffee shop or a boardroom.”
The smug look and word choice made Neal suspicious. “You found her on a dating app?” Rachel had been on a dating app?
“Do I look like the kind of guy who requires a dating app to find a woman? No, she’s not from a dating app. Let’s just say the place I used provides specific parameters.”
Neal coughed, cleared his throat. “An escort service?” Rachel was an escort? He’d never seen that one coming and—
“That’s right.”
If the waiter hadn’t appeared with fresh drinks at that exact moment, Neal might’ve been the one reaching across the table to slug the guy. People thought Neal was easygoing, not given to anger or rage, but this was Rachel.
“She’s a real beauty, isn’t she?” Simon lifted his glass, took a sip. Smiled. That damn smile was so arrogant, so predictable, almost as predictable as the words that followed. “If you’re interested, I’ll send her information and you can give her a try…but not until I’m finished.”
Neal forced his voice to remain even, his expression calm. “That’s generous of you. What do you think she’d say if she knew you were talking about her like she was a side of beef?”
A shrug, a casual “I don’t know, but she knows the deal. She’s agreed to it, so I’m not sure that’s an issue. It all comes down to consenting adults and money. I mean, really, what’s the problem?”
12
The problem? Everything was the problem. “And she’s okay with this?” A tiny piece of him wanted the guy to say, Not really. Or She’s hoping for more or anything but the answer Simon gave him.
“Sure is.” The smile spread until those dimples pulled and when he laughed, Neal realized how much he disliked him. “Settle down. She’s not the escort kind you’re thinking about… She’s from Claudia’s.”
