He Will be My Ruin
Page 63
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He seems more amused than bothered. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”
“Maybe.” I stand there like an obtuse child, watching him stroll down the hallway of Hollingsworth, unable to pry my eyes away. Hoping he’ll give me another look. Some sign that I wasn’t simply a five-minute interruption in his day.
With his hand pressed against the glass door, Jace glances over his shoulder and locks eyes with me. It’s so brief, but it’s enough to steal my breath. Then, he’s gone.
Would a guy like Jace even talk to me, if he knew that I also work as an escort? Apparently his father is the governor of Illinois. I’m guessing he wouldn’t take too lightly to his son dating a woman who’s funding her future on her back in hotel rooms.
I can’t even say I hate doing it. I used to hate it. Now I’ve become numb to it, because it has benefited me so much. And, most importantly, no one knows. It’s funny how easy it became to shrug off when I started to think of it for what it truly is—meaningless sex that turns my dreams into reality. I may be giving them my body, but they’re not getting me.
Speaking of which, I’m meeting a new client tonight. All Larissa told me is that he goes by the name “Jay” and he specifically asked for a young, curvy Hispanic woman.
I sigh.
Back to my reality.
————
July 23, 2015
Today may be the first time in five years that I’m late for work. I keep my head ducked as I step into the elevator, again checking the damp spot on my dress where I so desperately tried to rub out an ink stain earlier this morning. I’m not sure if I’m just paranoid or if I can still see the blue—
“The antiques appraiser.”
My head snaps up to find Jace Everett standing next to me, holding a tall, nondescript cup of coffee. Of course he wouldn’t drink Starbucks. I’m surprised he actually bought his own on his way into the office. Rumor has it that Natasha does everything for him.
“Hi.” I clear the nervous shake out of my voice. I didn’t even realize he was following me in. “How are you?” It has been seven days.
And I haven’t stopped thinking about him.
“Good.” He flashes me a pearly white flirtatious smile. “Still hunting for that perfect gift for my mother.”
What a sweet guy, to dedicate that much time and effort to a gift for his mother. Family is obviously important to him. “I can understand that. I spend most of my free time hunting for perfect things.”
Intense eyes are locked on mine. “And where do you hunt?”
“Garage sales mostly. And estate sales.” We have the elevator to ourselves, an impossible occurrence on a Thursday morning at eight a.m., which tells me these few moments with Jace must be kismet. Too bad the elevator is climbing the building so fast. For once, I wish it would just break down. He looks as incredible as usual today, in a tailored suit, his tantalizing cologne wafting through the cramped quarters, drawing me a step closer to him unintentionally. His collar is curled just a touch, and my fingers twitch with the urge to reach out and adjust it for him.
We’re not at that stage, yet.
He frowns with doubt. “Garage sales? Really? Isn’t that just people’s old junk?”
“A lot of it is. But not all of it.”
“Huh. I just thought . . .”
“That all antiques are found in auction houses?”
“No, I just thought . . .” He shakes his head at himself and chuckles. “I guess maybe I did think that, which is stupid.”
I giggle at the moment of vulnerability. He’s one of those guys who gives off an air of confidence that would make you think he knows everything about everything, so to see him laugh at himself is enchanting. “You have to wade through a lot of trash to get to the treasures, but when you do find something, it’s worth it. Many people don’t realize what they have, and they sell it off for next to nothing. Luckily, I know enough to know a treasure when I see it.”
That seems to give him pause. “Well then, I think I ought to get your help.”
The elevator opens to my floor. I so badly want to stay on and ride the rest of the way up with him, but I doubt he’s into desperate women. “Sure. You name the time.” I step off and turn around, to find him smiling at me.
He nods toward the Vanderpoel sign hanging on the wall. “I’ll call you. Have a nice day, Celine.”
I feel my cheeks flush.
The elevator doors shut, leaving me staring at my reflection in the metal wall before me. At least I wore a dress like this—my black-and-white striped pencil, the one that I have to wear a blazer over because the plunging neckline makes it highly inappropriate for the workplace. Of course the blazer was undone during that entire exchange. I just gave Jace an eyeful of what my mother calls an “ample bosom.”
Considering what I’m doing on the side to make ends meet, it shouldn’t faze me in the least, and yet it does. I want him to see me as a classy, smart, competent woman. Not just another girl to screw.
Did he actually mean what he said about antique hunting together?
CHAPTER 28
Maggie
December 13, 2015
“I met Celine at a Hollingsworth exhibit in July. I was there for a pre-auction viewing of a private collection. We started talking and she told me she was studying to become an antiques appraiser. I thought that was fortunate because—”
“Your parents are collectors,” I say, cutting him off.
“How’d you . . .” He frowns. “Never mind.” Accepting his drink from the server and waving her away with a small pile of bills, he takes a sip. He seems more calm than he was a few moments ago. “Anyway, a week after that, I ran into her again at work, and soon after that, we made plans to visit a few shops together to help me look for something.”
“Something?”
“A gift, for my mother’s upcoming birthday.”
“The same gift that’s sitting in your office now, in December? You must be a devoted son, spending so many months looking.” I don’t try to hide my sarcasm. “So you asked her out on a date?”
“I guess you could call it that.”
He’s lying. Their first “date” was in a hotel room, when he introduced himself as Jay and she introduced herself as Maggie, and he paid to fuck her on the couch with all the lights on. “Then what happened?”
“Maybe.” I stand there like an obtuse child, watching him stroll down the hallway of Hollingsworth, unable to pry my eyes away. Hoping he’ll give me another look. Some sign that I wasn’t simply a five-minute interruption in his day.
With his hand pressed against the glass door, Jace glances over his shoulder and locks eyes with me. It’s so brief, but it’s enough to steal my breath. Then, he’s gone.
Would a guy like Jace even talk to me, if he knew that I also work as an escort? Apparently his father is the governor of Illinois. I’m guessing he wouldn’t take too lightly to his son dating a woman who’s funding her future on her back in hotel rooms.
I can’t even say I hate doing it. I used to hate it. Now I’ve become numb to it, because it has benefited me so much. And, most importantly, no one knows. It’s funny how easy it became to shrug off when I started to think of it for what it truly is—meaningless sex that turns my dreams into reality. I may be giving them my body, but they’re not getting me.
Speaking of which, I’m meeting a new client tonight. All Larissa told me is that he goes by the name “Jay” and he specifically asked for a young, curvy Hispanic woman.
I sigh.
Back to my reality.
————
July 23, 2015
Today may be the first time in five years that I’m late for work. I keep my head ducked as I step into the elevator, again checking the damp spot on my dress where I so desperately tried to rub out an ink stain earlier this morning. I’m not sure if I’m just paranoid or if I can still see the blue—
“The antiques appraiser.”
My head snaps up to find Jace Everett standing next to me, holding a tall, nondescript cup of coffee. Of course he wouldn’t drink Starbucks. I’m surprised he actually bought his own on his way into the office. Rumor has it that Natasha does everything for him.
“Hi.” I clear the nervous shake out of my voice. I didn’t even realize he was following me in. “How are you?” It has been seven days.
And I haven’t stopped thinking about him.
“Good.” He flashes me a pearly white flirtatious smile. “Still hunting for that perfect gift for my mother.”
What a sweet guy, to dedicate that much time and effort to a gift for his mother. Family is obviously important to him. “I can understand that. I spend most of my free time hunting for perfect things.”
Intense eyes are locked on mine. “And where do you hunt?”
“Garage sales mostly. And estate sales.” We have the elevator to ourselves, an impossible occurrence on a Thursday morning at eight a.m., which tells me these few moments with Jace must be kismet. Too bad the elevator is climbing the building so fast. For once, I wish it would just break down. He looks as incredible as usual today, in a tailored suit, his tantalizing cologne wafting through the cramped quarters, drawing me a step closer to him unintentionally. His collar is curled just a touch, and my fingers twitch with the urge to reach out and adjust it for him.
We’re not at that stage, yet.
He frowns with doubt. “Garage sales? Really? Isn’t that just people’s old junk?”
“A lot of it is. But not all of it.”
“Huh. I just thought . . .”
“That all antiques are found in auction houses?”
“No, I just thought . . .” He shakes his head at himself and chuckles. “I guess maybe I did think that, which is stupid.”
I giggle at the moment of vulnerability. He’s one of those guys who gives off an air of confidence that would make you think he knows everything about everything, so to see him laugh at himself is enchanting. “You have to wade through a lot of trash to get to the treasures, but when you do find something, it’s worth it. Many people don’t realize what they have, and they sell it off for next to nothing. Luckily, I know enough to know a treasure when I see it.”
That seems to give him pause. “Well then, I think I ought to get your help.”
The elevator opens to my floor. I so badly want to stay on and ride the rest of the way up with him, but I doubt he’s into desperate women. “Sure. You name the time.” I step off and turn around, to find him smiling at me.
He nods toward the Vanderpoel sign hanging on the wall. “I’ll call you. Have a nice day, Celine.”
I feel my cheeks flush.
The elevator doors shut, leaving me staring at my reflection in the metal wall before me. At least I wore a dress like this—my black-and-white striped pencil, the one that I have to wear a blazer over because the plunging neckline makes it highly inappropriate for the workplace. Of course the blazer was undone during that entire exchange. I just gave Jace an eyeful of what my mother calls an “ample bosom.”
Considering what I’m doing on the side to make ends meet, it shouldn’t faze me in the least, and yet it does. I want him to see me as a classy, smart, competent woman. Not just another girl to screw.
Did he actually mean what he said about antique hunting together?
CHAPTER 28
Maggie
December 13, 2015
“I met Celine at a Hollingsworth exhibit in July. I was there for a pre-auction viewing of a private collection. We started talking and she told me she was studying to become an antiques appraiser. I thought that was fortunate because—”
“Your parents are collectors,” I say, cutting him off.
“How’d you . . .” He frowns. “Never mind.” Accepting his drink from the server and waving her away with a small pile of bills, he takes a sip. He seems more calm than he was a few moments ago. “Anyway, a week after that, I ran into her again at work, and soon after that, we made plans to visit a few shops together to help me look for something.”
“Something?”
“A gift, for my mother’s upcoming birthday.”
“The same gift that’s sitting in your office now, in December? You must be a devoted son, spending so many months looking.” I don’t try to hide my sarcasm. “So you asked her out on a date?”
“I guess you could call it that.”
He’s lying. Their first “date” was in a hotel room, when he introduced himself as Jay and she introduced herself as Maggie, and he paid to fuck her on the couch with all the lights on. “Then what happened?”
