Perfect Harmony

by Cee, DW

I gritted my teeth when he explained about our dinner “partners” who would be joining us soon. What I thought was going to be a quick meal where we talked business and parted, turned out to be a ten-course extravaganza with escorts. He wanted us to be “more comfortable.” Asshole.

  The last thing I needed was a woman prostituting herself to me. This old bastard might need to pop a Viagra and open his wallet to get laid, but I sure as hell didn’t. By the looks of the girl walking with him, this was going to be a long, giggly night.

  Short dress, fuck me heels, hair teased like Madonna in the 80s—where the hell did he find his girl? Did he really need to pay a service to hire a skank like her? I could have picked up anyone off the street and she would have had more class than this girl, walking arm in arm with a man older than her father. Regardless of my annoyance, I stood up and behaved like the gentleman my mother taught me to be.

  “Xander?”

  I looked up and that’s when I saw her.

  Stunning.

  Exotic.

  Graceful.

  Alluring.

  Exquisite.

  This goddess was alarming. Every part of my body stood tall to meet and greet her. I didn’t believe in shit like love at first sight, but this felt damn near similar. Like a sixteen-year-old, I could feel my heart beating faster, my palms getting sweatier, and my body humming to the excitement of saying hello. What the fuck?

  She was a girl. She looked no older than twenty-one, a decade my junior. What the hell was I going to do with a simpering, idealistic girl barely old enough to drink? To her credit, if she worked this business, she’d be well versed in pleasing a man.

  Putting all this horny teenage bullshit behind me, I walked over to meet my “date.”

  “Jenna,” Jackson introduced us while his girl mauled him at the classiest members’ only restaurant in LA. “This is Xander.”

  “Hello.” Her voice was as soft as her skin.

  She looked exotic. I couldn’t say what her ethnicity was—white mixed with Asian? Middle Eastern? European? Whatever the hell she was, I was interested. This night just turned in my favor.

  I placed my hand out for this Jenna. Why? I had no fucking clue. She obviously was in the same line of thinking. Staring at my hand, she inched her right hand forward, then brought it back to her side. This Jenna was cute.

  Taking charge, I placed my hand on her back and led her to her seat. She tensed the moment I touched her. Her taut body was an electric charge to my own. I disliked the mixed feelings I had about this fierce chemistry between us. I wasn’t a should-I, shouldn’t-I kind of man. I should and I did was how I lived life. Being unsure of myself, and what I felt about others was not a part of who I was.

  “Miss? May I offer you some champagne?” The waiter asked.

  She politely said no, but I chose to take two glasses on our behalf. “I assume you’re old enough to drink champagne?” I challenged by sliding the alcohol in front of her.

  She nodded and answered, “The maître d’ carded me before I was allowed in.”

  With such a serious tone, I didn’t know whether she was kidding. “He obviously didn’t check the dress code for your friend over there.” There was a blush on this angel’s face.

  We looked over at the overly amorous couple who needed to get a fucking room. With the movement of her hand—up and down, up and down—this girl was giving Jackson a hand job under the damn table. Idiot! I’d like to take a video of him and his whore and send it to his wife and grown daughters.

  Jenna appeared embarrassed for her friend, workmate, whatever their relationship was, as she turned her head down and faced the cutlery on the table.

  “How old are you, Jenna?”

  “Twenty-one.”

  “How do you know her?” I titled my head toward the slut across the table, without looking at her.

  “We’re roommates.”

  “Since when?”

  “The past three years.”

  “You’ve been with her for that long?” Could that mean they’d been doing this escorting gig for three years? Jenna was only eighteen when she had started, if that was the case. She looked too innocent to be a part of that world.

  “Yes,” she answered with a little bite. “Why do you ask like that?” This timid girl wasn’t as timid as she first appeared.

  Pointing in the direction of the jack-off session in action, I didn’t need to state the obvious. Jenna quickly turned her head back to her cutlery.

  “Drink?” I offered the champagne again.

  She didn’t say another word as she gulped down the contents of the flute.

  *******

  What the hell was I doing here? Help me! Get me out of this place!

  Not only was this man’s dark stare giving me an outbreak of nerves, I wanted to pull Katie-Rose out of here. What was she thinking behaving like a common streetwalker? At this moment, I hated her for embarrassing herself and for placing everyone around us in an awkward situation.

  I didn’t help our cause by drinking an entire glass of champagne in one gulp. Ten minutes into this night, I knew I shouldn’t have come.

  “Jenna?”

  We could hear Jackson zipping up his pants as Katie-Rose demurely told me, “Jack and I are heading out. Can you catch a cab back home?” As livid as I was with my roommate, I was thrilled our night was done. “Sorry,” she whispered while Jackson said a few words to Xander.

  I could feel the anger vibrating off his body. With each spoken word, Xander’s body tensed even more. “All right.” I heard his clipped tone.

  Off the two went and here I was, left with an intimidating man, but free to go home and study.

  “Thank you for the company. I’ll leave you to go about the rest of your evening with whomever you prefer.”

  “Stay.” That wasn’t a question or a request. It was a command.

  “Excuse me?”

  He pointed to the four servers coming with our food. As much as I wanted to leave, it felt wrong to get up when someone went through the effort of preparing a meal for us. As it was, the servers were confused with the two empty seats.

  I did as was told and stayed in my seat.

  “I hope you’re hungry, and I hope you talk more than you’ve done so far. There are ten courses coming our way. It’ll be an awfully long dinner if you give me one-word answers all night. A few original questions of your own would be appreciated.”

  Rather than cowering away, I smiled—almost laughed—and started on my soup. “What’s your last name, Xander? And is Xander short for Alexander?” The biting laugh reappeared. “Two questions original enough for you?” I wasn’t going to let this intimidating man strong-arm me during the ten courses. If I had to sit through dinner with a stranger, I figured I’d do it with a smile.

  “Blane, and no.” Two questions. Two answers. The man played hardball.

  Whatever. I had nothing to lose in this game. A nice, free meal to sustain me while I studied into the night was small compensation for enduring such strain with Xander.

  *******

  She wouldn’t cave. After I gave my two answers, I expected her to ask a flurry of questions. Most women, when they knew they were with a rich, powerful man, either talked my ears off or stroked my ego. This girl did neither. She, too, ate her soup in comfortable silence. Though I knew for a fact, neither of us was comfortable.

  Once the next course arrived, I asked my own two questions. “What’s your last name, Jenna? And is Jenna short for Jennifer?”

  With a smirk, she answered, “Ashe and no.”

  So that’s how it was going to be?

  By the fifth course, I learned very little about my dinner companion. It shocked the hell out of me that I caved and started a conversation rather than a two-word question and answer.

  “You’re a stubborn young lady.”

  “You’re a stubborn young man.”

  “Why are you here tonight? Why would you come to a situation like this?”

  Sh
e thought about my questions thoughtfully. “I came to help out a friend. If it wasn’t for Loren getting sick, you’d probably be dining with a better conversationalist than I.”

  This Jenna Ashe had a way of making me feel like laughing—something I didn’t do often enough. “Then what would you have been silently doing if you weren’t here?”

  “What I should be doing right now—studying for midterms.”

  That caught me by surprise. “You’re a student?”

  “Yes,” she answered tentatively. “Did I sound too much like an idiot tonight for you to believe I was a student?”

  “No.” I answered vehemently. “That’s not it. I was just surprised. I didn’t realize you were a student.”

  “Well, I am. What do you do?”

  “I’m in the finance world. I used to manage other peoples’ fortunes, but now I only manage my own. I also dabble in random investments.”

  “I see. I’m an English major dabbling in nursing. By the end of this year, I need to step away from the fork in the road and walk toward a career path.”

  “Which way are you leaning?”

  “My heart leans toward English, but my legs will take me down the nursing road.”

  “Why?”

  “I need to work. I’ll have mounds of college debt when I’m done and graduating with an English major may or may not pay the bills.”

  “You could be a teacher or a writer…”

  “Or a blogger, or a struggling journalist,” she answered with a sad smile that made my heart feel emotions foreign to it. “I love English. The reading, the writing, the story behind the writers—it’s a wonderful luxury for me to study in college. But, reality calls and I’d like to make sure I can sustain a life. I suppose that’s why I’ll choose nursing.”

  “But that’s such a tough profession. You’re a tiny woman. How will you care for two-hundred pound men and women?”

  She laughed sweetly. “I’m a lot stronger than you think.”

  It angered me that Jenna supported her life by selling herself. Where were her morals, her self-esteem, her damn parents? What was wrong with this girl? Didn’t she understand what kind of danger she was in? Her roommate was probably riddled with diseases by now if she was fucking the likes of Jackson White. I had no right to judge, but no matter the end goal, prostituting one’s body was wrong.

  “I think we’re done.” I told the maître d’ who came to check on our meal. We weren’t actually done. There were two dessert courses left, but I wanted to be with Jenna no longer. Her profession disgusted me. She angered me.

  *******

  We were having a nice conversation when suddenly, I felt anger vibrating from his body again. I thought through what I might have said to upset him so profoundly. He cut short our dinner and all but dismissed me.

  I didn’t understand myself, but I had to blink back tears when I said, “Thank you for dinner.” This man was all that I disliked in people. He was a brooder, controlling, and intimidating. For a brief while, though, I thought he was interesting, kind, and caring. It was stupid of me to get caught up in this high-society world. There was something incredibly sexy about a man who wielded power and authority, no doubt! It didn’t hurt that he also had money.

  Sighing, I didn’t want Xander to know I was disappointed. I sure as hell wouldn’t let him know I was hurt. For some damn reason, I couldn’t keep my emotions in check so I excused myself and hoped he’d get the hell out of here before I returned from the restroom.

  I’d been on dates in the past, but never with a man who moved my heart so readily. I didn’t even think I liked this Xander Blane, but being pushed away didn’t feel good. I put myself back together and found my “date” waiting for me by the maître d’.

  “Would you be able to call a cab for me?” I asked the host guarding the front.

  He looked to Xander, first, and then slowly obliged my request.

  Again, I blinked back these stupid tears. Why the hell was I so emotional tonight? Was it that time of the month? Why did I care that Xander didn’t want to drive me home? Why would he take me home? He hardly knew me. I barely knew him. What sane woman allowed a stranger to her house?

  It was best this way.

  “Thank you again,” I said with a forced smile. He was about to say something but the valet interrupted him. For a brief second, I saw the struggle in his eyes. There was a gentleman in him that wanted to see me safely home. I knew there was and the torn look proved my heart’s desire. But in the end, torn or not, he headed for his car. “Take care, Xander Blane,” I whispered, turned myself around and walked back into the foyer. No matter how much I wanted one last look at the man who’d charged into my heart, I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

  This time, I would be the one to dismiss him.

  Chapter 2

  Reasons

  I couldn’t help myself. Like a damn fool, I followed the cab all the way to her apartment. Parked across the street, I watched her walk into the third apartment without ever looking around. Foolish woman. Didn’t she know how dangerous this world was? Some man could be lurking in the dark, ready to do all kinds of horrific things to her. She had no clue and she didn’t give a damn. She opened her door and went in without a look.

  I watched the lights go on, her figure walking around the apartment, and the lights turning off everywhere but one room. I assumed that was the room she was studying in. Midterms. College. Barely out into her twenties. She was just a baby. She looked so innocent. What was she doing working as an escort?

  It killed me to think of her with other men. It ate at me that I treated her so poorly tonight. What the fuck was the matter with me? I was sitting in my car, watching a poorly lit room.

  I decided to do something about the angst and anger inside me.

  *******

  Sigh! And sigh some more! Damn. I wish I hadn’t gone out to dinner tonight. I wish I hadn’t met Xander Blane. Instead of memorizing facts about the Reformation, I was filled with images of that enigmatic man.

  He was a walking paradox. His face was stern and cold, and yet I glimpsed warmth in his eyes. His words were harsh, but mixed with an odd sense of tenderness that made my heart doubt. As forcefully as he pushed me away tonight, our chemistry kept us connected. Even now, after having said good-bye, I didn’t think we were done. Somehow, we’d see one another again. No matter how hard he or I fought it, we’d cross paths soon.

  The doorbell woke me from my useless reverie. I opened the door to find a beautifully wrapped box. Opening it, I saw four elaborate pieces of dessert and a hot carafe of coffee. There wasn’t a face to go with the bearer of gifts. But, it wasn’t a far off assumption that Xander must have left this as an apology. The twin sets of desserts and coffee were what should have ended our meal. I had no idea why he abruptly ended our meal, but I’d accept his apology and hoped to see him again some day.

  “Hey, Jenna. How did you do on the midterm?” My classmate Jason walked out of the test room with me.

  “Hi Jason. I think I did well? Hard to say right now. My brain feels like it’s been stretched too thin.”

  “I know what you mean. Knowing you, you probably rocked this exam. I think you’re the smartest one here.”

  “That’s nice of you to say, but with so many bright students, I rate average at best.”

  We walked into the courtyard where all the students seemed to be soaking in the sun after their exams. Our exam was in the afternoon and by the time we were done, it was almost evening.

  “By the way, I wanted to thank you for making copies of your notes for me. Your notes saved me from flunking this midterm.”

  “It must be hard to travel so much with the baseball team and to miss all your classes.”

  “It’s not easy.”

  “I’m glad I could help,” I added before saying good-bye.

  “Jenna?” Jason shifted his body and became very uncomfortable with me. “Uh…may I thank you by taking you to dinner tonight?”r />
  His question took me by surprise. “You don’t have to do that. It was just a few pages of notes. That hardly warrants a dinner.”

  “It would be an honor to take you out. Please say yes.” His awkward demeanor was completely contrary to his boyish good looks.

  He was so earnest in his request, how could I say no? His polite, sweet, almost-ardent ways felt so different from my “date” last night. It was refreshing. “OK. Yes. It would be fun to have dinner with you.”

  “Great!” He smiled. It was nice to make someone smile like that—like he’d won a prize and that prize was me. “I have a special place I’d like to take you. Would it be all right if I picked you up in an hour?”

  “I guess so. How should I dress?”

  “If you don’t mind dressing up, I’d like to take you to my favorite restaurant.”

  “Please don’t feel obligated to take me anywhere nice. I’d be happy with In-N-Out.”

  Jason laughed. “An hour?” he asked.

  “Sure. See you then.”

  Driving home, I wondered where Jason would take me tonight. We didn’t know each other outside of the classroom and I felt somewhat uncomfortable with him spending money on me. Now that I thought about it, I had no idea who paid for dinner last night. As bizarre as that night was, thoughts of Xander played through my mind all day.

  “You’re home.” Katie-Rose said sheepishly.

  “Shouldn’t I be the one saying that?” I eyed her blotchy neck disapprovingly. “Did you make it to your midterms?” She shook her head no. “Katie-Rose. You can’t do this. You’ll end up flunking out.”

  “I emailed my professor last night and told him I had a family emergency. He said I could take it next week.”

  I didn’t say any more. She had her life and I had mine. It was hard enough to take care of myself. Who was I to admonish her?

  “I’m going out tonight, Katie-Rose.”

  She perked up and said, “You are? With whom?”

  “Jason from my history class is taking me to dinner to thank me for lending him my notes.”