Page 7

Chapter Seven

Ruby

Half my wardrobe was piled on my bed, and when I tossed another cardigan set behind me, the sound of Bruiser’s whine had me glancing over my shoulder. The sleeve was hooked on Bruiser’s ear, and when he batted ineffectually at the sweater to dislodge it from his face, I exhaled a quiet laugh.

“Sorry,” I told him, unhooking the shirt. I kissed his snout, laughing a little when he tried to lick my chin as I pulled back. “I wish there was a guide for stuff like this. What to wear when meeting a potential dating coach slash escort. ”

He tilted his head.

With a sigh, I sank onto the bed, scratching the spot behind his ears that he liked so much.

What was I doing ? Of course it was hard to find clothes to wear, because the thought of sitting at a table with Jimmy the escort made me want to puke.

I had to, though. If I chickened out of this, I’d always wonder. Wonder if maybe a few practice dates with someone who did this for a living would be enough to snap me out of my funk. Bolster my confidence, as Lauren kept preaching.

Confidence. Everyone made it sound so easy, didn’t they? Like self-love was a switch in the back of your mind, scuttling all the neurons into submission with a neat flip into the on position.

Yeah right. Maybe the people capable of that were part of the small minority destined to make us mere mortals feel like crap because our switch was broken and our brain didn’t want to fall in step. I was proud of so much that I’d accomplished. And yes, while I had regrets about this one part of my life, I didn’t feel the need to alter my personality or try to act like someone else. I did love myself. Most of me, anyway.

That felt more normal. More universal. That each of us stood in front of the mirror and could list a bunch of things that we liked and appreciated, and just did our best not to let the other stuff screw up our mood.

Jimmy, unless he was an actual miracle worker, wouldn’t be able to make my brain do anything. Wasn’t that depressing? I was the only one who could overcome my own hangups. The key was finding someone who made me feel comfortable being myself while I did.

And I was pretty freaking sure there wasn’t a single article of clothing in my closet that had those magical powers either.

“Up you go,” I told Bruiser. He wiggled his butt. “Unless you grow some opposable thumbs, the only way you can help me is by not laying on half my wardrobe.”

I swear he could understand me, because Bruiser hopped off the bed and stretched with a groan, then circled until he found a comfortable spot on the ground.

As I started the arduous process of hanging up all the clothes I’d torn down from the closet, I decided in the end that the clothes I’d worn to work would be just fine for professional drinks with ... the professional whatever-he-was.

“ You look lovely in that color. ”

Heat crawled up my neck into my cheeks, and I blocked the man’s voice from my head. I didn’t even want to think his name lest he find out somehow. Wouldn’t that make his ego quiver with glee? Knowing that I was thinking about what he’d said when I was getting ready to go out with another man.

I bet Griffin was one of those people who could stare in the mirror and not find a single flaw on his wretchedly perfect body. One of those people who’d flipped the self-love switch on when he was a child, and the blasted thing never turned off.

In the bathroom, I brushed my hair, added a little blush, and swiped on an extra coat of mascara, then shrugged. “Good enough, I think.”

My phone rang as I tightened the cap on my mascara, and the sight of my mom’s name had me smiling a little.

“Hey, world travelers,” I said after accepting the call. “Where are we today?”

“Portugal,” my mom answered. “We were in Spain a couple days ago, and it was wonderful. The architecture is absolutely divine.”

“Did you tell her we were in Spain?” my dad’s voice boomed in the background.

“I just did, Carl, didn’t you hear me say it?”

“No, I can’t hear anything with this shower on. Did you tell her we’re in Portugal?”

“Carl,” my mom sighed. “Either come in and talk to her, or just take your shower.”

I shook my head, hitting the speakerphone button so I could clean up my bathroom counter. The mirror hinged open to reveal the medicine cabinet, and I slid the mascara into its spot, then set the hair spray next to it. My prescriptions went to the right of that, and while I listened to my parents’ good-natured bickering, I straightened everything into place.

“Mom,” I interrupted. “I only have about five minutes before I need to be out the door.”

“Sorry, honey. How’s work going this week? Any news on the land?”

“No.” With the mirror closed, I took one last look at my reflection and flipped off the lights as I walked out. “We’ve got one more fundraiser, though. I’m hoping that’ll do it.”

“Well, let us know what happens.” She paused, covering the phone speaker, muffling her voice while she said something to my dad. “You taking care of yourself? You’re not staying up too late or anything, are you? You know how important sleep is.”

“Oh, should I not be going to raves until dawn? Might have to cancel my plans for tonight.”

Mom clucked her tongue. “I know. You’ve always been so responsible, but it’s harder than I thought, being away.”

Responsible. There was that word again. My own personal cross to bear.

I swallowed around the lump in my throat. “If it makes you feel better, Lauren is pestering me to an adequate degree every day in your absence. I’m drinking my water and exercising and taking all my vitamins and medicine, and eating my vegetables and getting nine hours of sleep every night.” I slipped my feet into my shoes by the door. “Should I send you my blood pressure readings too?”

“All right,” she said. “I’ll stop.”

No wonder I was slightly neurotic. It was literally in the genes. “It’s okay, Mom. I know you guys worry.” I hitched my purse strap over my shoulder and patted Bruiser before I walked out the door. “I’m fine. I will be fine until you get home from your trip, which you should be enjoying because you’ve earned it.”

“We are, I promise. I’ll send you some pictures.” The sound of my car door had her pausing. “Where are you off to? Going to see Lauren?”

“No,” I said lightly. “I’m having drinks with a hooker, and then dinner with a professional athlete afterwards.”

She sighed. “Funny.”

Mom couldn’t see it, but my smile was grim. “I have my moments. Tell Dad I love him, okay?”

If the phone call from my parents was good for anything, it was that I hardly had any time to allow nerves a foothold in my stomach before I arrived at the address that Jimmy had emailed me. He was staying at a hotel in Fort Collins, which felt much safer than having him stay in town, and he’d picked a place about halfway in between. That also felt safer, because the thought of Lauren or Kenny walking through the door while I went on my bought-and-paid-for date with a sex worker made my brain explode.

Maybe, just maybe, you shouldn’t be doing this, then, an obnoxious voice hissed in the back of my mind. The voice sounded an awful lot like myself, and I blew out a harsh breath as I parked my car and walked briskly through the front doors, hand clutching my purse strap like it was the sole thing keeping me anchored to the ground.

Jimmy was waiting at a small table in a darkened corner of the room, and he stood with a friendly smile when I approached. Tonight, he was dressed in a deep-navy suit, his white oxford with two buttons left undone at the top, no tie.

Elegant. Understated.

To my utter relief, he did not look anything like a hooker.

“Thank you,” I told him when he pushed my chair in after I took a seat. His hands brushed over my shoulders before he settled into his own chair. Jimmy’s knee nudged mine under the table, and when he didn’t move it away, I adjusted my legs.

He merely smiled, eyes tracing my face. “I’m glad you came, Ruby. It would’ve been a shame if we’d missed the opportunity to get to know each other better.”

A shame. Uh-huh.

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 a shame if 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 passed on 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 seemed so 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 , or I 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—what in-depth work he 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.