Page 87 of Play Fake
The last thing I want to do is hurt either Jack or Ainsley in all of this.
But it does feel like Madden reminded me on this phone call about who the fuck I am.
He may not have told me to get out, but I can read between the lines. It’s a solid reminder that I may never be good enough for someone like Ainsley.
* * *
The next night, I head to the VIP lounge, which is already open and in full swing. I look around the place, and I’m actually pretty impressed with what my father has come up with here.
High-limit tables, top-shelf bars, private rooms, velvet and marble…it’s all very high-class and all very much my father’s doing.
I don’t want to be here, but he demanded it. I can stand up to basically anyone else in the world, but somehow he still has power over me. I’m not sure how he does it.
“Mm, Dex Bradley,” a blonde woman says, sidling up beside me and grabbing my arm between hers to pull it against her tits in some attempt to give my arm a hug, perhaps.
She looks familiar, but I can’t place her.
“Jessica May,” she says, and it dawns on me. She’s a model for one of those famous lingerie lines.
“Right, of course,” I say, not sure how she got in here, but also not really caring.
Except I should care, of course.
We don’t just have theeye in the skykinds of cameras here. No, no. My father wanted me here tonight becausethe mediais here.Would’ve been nice if he would’ve clued me in on that, but he didn’t.
I could’ve brought Ainsley with me. Instead, I’ve got a model trying to smother my arm with her tits and cameras all around me decidedly working hard to demolish thewholesomefamily man image I’m just starting to build.
Excellent.
Thanks, Dad.
The rest of the night doesn’t go much better. More models, more of the rich and famous, more money exchanging hands, more alcohol, more photos.
It’s nearly three in the morning by the time I get home, and Ainsley is asleep in my bed. I should’ve been there with her when she fell asleep on my chest, and instead I smell like dingy cigarette smoke because what pairs with gambling and drinking? Smoking, naturally.
I blow out a breath and take a quick shower, and I slip into bed beside my wife…into the place I wish I’d been all night as I try to come up with how the fuck I can get out of going back to that lounge again next week.
CHAPTER 36: Ainsley Bradley
An Appearance
He said he’d get Tuesdays off during the season, but I guess training camp is different. He said he’d be out late, and I guess I assumed he’d be with his teammates. And that’s why I’m so surprised by this morning’s headlines.
NFL Player Dex Bradley Entertains at New Vegas Lounge.
Okay, fine. So he had an appearance he didn’t tell me about.
But that doesn’t explain the photo accompanying the article of a woman with enormous breasts smashing them up againstmy husband. You know, that sham of a marriage we have. Just for show. All pretend.
Still, he told me he loves me. That means something to me.
On the other hand, he has a history with this kind of thing. A well-documented history. And I’m just the naïve little girl eleven years his junior whose lack of experience might’ve drawn him in but perhaps has turned boring to him already.
“Does my little slut want to be a good girl for me again?” His voice interrupts me as I read the article.
I turn toward him, steam possibly coming out of my ears, and I flash the photo at him. “What’s this?”
He sighs, and he takes a step back. He closes his eyes. “It’s nothing.”
