Hired

by Zoey Castile

  My stomach tightens. “That’s a really nice way of saying escort.”

  “You know you’re my favorite. There’s something about you that’s genuine. Even if it’s not.”

  The waitress comes over and sets the drinks between us. I take the bourbon and drink half. How does Faith drink this stuff?

  “Why are you back in town early?” I ask her.

  She takes a sip of her drink. Maybe she’s not happy with her husband, but I can’t see this woman who holds her pinky out to drink a martini living another life. “Business.”

  “Right.”

  “We’re staying at the Monteleone. But I sneaked away. He thinks I’m out with my friends.” She laughs.

  “I’ll be your friend,” I say. I want to mean that.

  “I thought we weren’t going to lie, Aiden.” She looks into the clear liquor and stabs an olive. “What are you doing with a woman like me? What am I doing? You’re half my age.”

  I look at my phone. No messages from Faith. What if she comes up? What if she finds Fallon in my room? I look up, and sure enough, there he is. I can read the “what the fuck” on his mouth.

  “You haven’t done anything that you should be ashamed of,” I tell Ginny.

  “Just because we haven’t had sex doesn’t mean that my husband wouldn’t have grounds to divorce me.” She drinks more. “I don’t want to talk about that. I’m sorry, he just makes me so—”

  “Maybe it’s time you think more about the things that make you happy. You’re more than just the person you end up marrying.”

  “I wish I had your optimism, sweetheart.” She laughs a bitter laugh. “Now, tell me where you’re going looking like this?”

  I look down at my shoes.

  “Please don’t lie to me. I can’t stand more lies.”

  “I have a date, actually.”

  She smiles, and there’s a tremble in her voice when she says, “Tell me about her.”

  I run my hand through my hair. “That would be weird.”

  “Take my mind off this, Aiden. Please.”

  “She’s—” I can’t seem to find the words. Nothing is good enough to describe Faith.

  “Really? That amazing. Well, it’s a good thing that I had to go.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say.

  She swipes her hand in the air. “Don’t worry. I actually came here to break things off. My husband’s assistant is breathing down my neck and if she got wind of you—even if we haven’t done anything—I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

  For the first time in the last handful of days I breathe easily. It’s a weight that’s been hanging over me.

  “I’ll move my things out,” I tell her. “I understand.”

  “Don’t,” she says. “Room’s paid for the week in cash. So I don’t want to hear a peep about it. I’ll wire you the money right now.”

  I push her phone down. “Don’t, really. You didn’t even see me. Honestly.”

  “Don’t be stupid to turn down money, Aiden.”

  I shake my head. “It’s not stupid.”

  “I’m sending it anyway. Donate it to a charity. Do whatever you want with it. But we had an agreement and I keep mine.”

  “All right.” I look at my watch. Twenty minutes ago Faith texted.

  Faith: I’m on my way for real this time.

  And now she texts: Here.

  “I have to go,” I tell Ginny.

  I hold her hand by her fingers. I kiss her knuckles. “Promise me you’ll think about what I said.”

  “Promise me you’ll treat her right.”

  “I will.”

  I turn around to leave. Fallon’s still watching from the balcony, drinking my fucking beer. I give him a thumbs-up, which he returns with a less kind gesture.

  “Angelique,” I say, the minute I come through the doors. “Hey—”

  That’s the last word I get in before she slaps me across the face.

  11

  If You Only Knew

  FAITH

  There’s no one in the store when I walk in. The only other time I’ve wandered into one is when one of my sorority sisters was getting married and they put me in charge of buying the most embarrassing toys.

  I don’t consider myself a prude, but all of the giant plastic penises in every color are arresting.

  “Can I help you?” a slender white man asks. He’s in a colorful tank top and he has the kind of facial expression that says he finds everything amusing.

  “I’m going on a date and I want to make sure it’s a night he’ll never forget.”

  He tents his fingers and grins. “Direct. I like this. Backstory. First date? Third date?”

  “Sort of third and maybe the last.”

  “A little mean, I like it. Are they adventurous? Reserved? Wildly explo—”

  I cut him off. “I’d stay in the adventurous ballpark, but we haven’t had sex yet. He’s a bit more experienced than me.”

  “Well, you’re lucky straight men are really easy to please.”

  I laugh. “I’m Faith.”

  Then he gasps.

  Oh no.

  “Faith Charles?” He takes my hand in his. “Don’t worry. I won’t sell your bedroom secrets to that terrible LePaige. Especially after she called my store lacking in vibrancy. Listen, bitch, the only thing that isn’t vibrating is—”

  “What was your name again?”

  “Nando. How playful do you want to get? Because if left to my own devices, I’ll change your life.”

  I adjust the thin purse strap around my shoulder. “Well, I don’t really know what he likes.”

  Nando holds my arms out. “You’re a vision. I’m not trying to shoot myself in the foot, but look at you. I’d start with some basics. Have you ever used edible underwear?”

  “Once. It was messy. And those candy thongs are scary. What if he bites in the wrong place?”

  Nando looks at me like I’ve grown a third eye. “They’re for sucking.”

  Finally, I blush. “Oh.”

  I follow him down an aisle. It’s like having a personal shopper for sex toys. There’s an underutilized job position.

  “This little gadget will have you seeing stars.” He throws a vibrator ring into a basket. “Now for condoms, I’d go with these. They’re better for your hoo-ha and seriously unbreakable. Like, I can fit my entire arm up to my elbow.” He puts in a box. I add another. “Massage oil. This one isn’t sticky and the smell isn’t cloying enough to make you want to gag.” He blinks. “Unless you’re into that.”

  I burst out laughing. “I think this is a good start. I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

  Nando rings me up and sighs. “I say that pretty much every Friday night.”

  I take my select trinkets in a discreet black paper bag that might be used at a boutique.

  “Oh, shit,” I say when I see my phone. “I’m late.”

  AIDEN

  The sting of Angelique’s hand is hard. Damn, she’s strong.

  “I know I probably deserve that,” I say. I take a step back to give her room to seethe. “But can I know what it is I did?”

  Angelique can’t even form words. “I trusted you. I vouched for you. And you’re with her?”

  I suck in a breath. I glance over my shoulder to where Ginny is sipping her martini and looking out at the city. “It’s not what you think.”

  “Then tell me, Aiden Buenos Aires. That’s right. I looked up your name.” She pulls out her phone. “I’m going to call Faith right now.”

  “Please,” I beg her. “Please, just listen to me.”

  “Why?” Angie narrows her eyes at me. “Is that why you sat in front of me that night? Did the campaign pay you to fuck with Faith? Because that’s beyond low, even for them.”

  “What? Why would her mom’s campaign pay me?”

  Angelique’s brow is furrowed, but for the first time since she started yelling, she takes a breath. “Do you know who that woman is?”

 
“Ginny Thomas.”

  Angelique shakes her head. “You know what? I’m not going to be fooled by you again. You’re probably a really good actor.”

  I reach out to touch her shoulder, but she slaps my hand. “Don’t touch me.”

  I raise my hands and give her space. “Clearly we have a misunderstanding.”

  “This is what I know. I encouraged my best friend to have a one-night stand with you and it’s backfiring on me because she’s catching feelings for you and you’re just using her.”

  I only hear one thing out of everything Angelique has said. “She has feelings for me, really?”

  “Don’t play stupid. You’ve been working with the enemy this whole time.”

  “Angie,” I start.

  “It’s Angelique to you.”

  “Angelique. What enemy?”

  “The Moreaux campaign hired you to seduce Faith and ruin her mother’s reputation.”

  That name lights up something inside me. Mayor Moreaux. Faith giving that name to the reporter the night of the blackout. I stumble back and hit the wall.

  I shake my head. “That’s not what happened.”

  “Then tell me, Aiden. If that’s your real name.”

  Ginny’s husband’s work. The things she said about him. They were always about business but she never specified. I try to find holes in her words. Something that should have alerted me sooner.

  Faith is waiting for me downstairs.

  My hair flops over again.

  “Who are you?” Angelique asks.

  “My name is Aiden Rios,” I say and tug on the tie Fallon knotted for me until it comes undone. “I wasn’t hired by the campaign. Ginny hired me. Just Ginny.”

  Angelique stares, confused. “What do you mean ‘just Ginny’? Why would Virginia hire you if—oh.”

  Virginia. Not Ginger. My mind is spinning, each time trying to figure out some sort of clue I missed.

  “I didn’t know,” I tell Angelique. “I swear. I know you don’t have any reason to believe me. That night you met me it was a real low point for me. I thought I lost all my friends, my brothers because of a mistake I made. And Ginny hired me to keep her company for a week. Just company. We never—I never—She got called away that same day, though, and that’s why I was alone. I didn’t expect to meet Faith. I didn’t expect to love her.”

  Angelique’s eyes flash at me once again. “What did you say?”

  The word hangs heavy in my throat. It strangles me. Because it has to be love, doesn’t it? Even if I haven’t felt it before? I know all the symptoms.

  “I love her,” I say. “I was going to end it tonight. I keep trying to tell her but I can’t.”

  “You’re a coward.”

  I nod. “I know.”

  “She said she’s taking you to the ball.”

  I shake my head. “Undo my tie. I shouldn’t go.”

  Angelique runs her tongue against her cheek and swears. “Look, don’t tell her about Ginny. It’ll wreck her so close to the election.”

  I make a strangled sound in the back of my throat. “I don’t want to keep lying to her.”

  “Sometimes a lie is better than the truth. Leave town. Leave her alone.”

  And because it’s the only thing I can think of, I nod in agreement.

  “She’s waiting for me.”

  “Then don’t be late,” Angelique says.

  12

  Nuestro Juramento

  FAITH

  When Aiden comes out of the hotel, my belly does that fluttering feeling. I squeeze my thighs because now that I know what’s below the belt, I can’t unknow it.

  He gets in, but there’s something off about him. His smile is tight. Not the usual happy smile he always carries. It’s like he’s trying despite himself.

  “Everything okay?” I ask.

  “Hmm?” he asks, distracted. He buckles his seat belt, hands nervous. Maybe he’s just nervous. Then, he takes a moment to look at me. “You’re stunning.”

  “You clean up nice yourself,” I say. “So, I have a couple of things planned. Do you want to get dinner first?”

  “Actually, is it okay if we walk around a bit? Wait, no, your shoes.”

  “I have flats in the car. They won’t exactly match, but it’s okay.”

  He leans into me and catches the bottom of my lip with his. “Thank you.”

  I park the car and lead him down the twisting streets. The weather is perfect this time, like the heavens are throwing a little luck my way after all.

  He keeps my fingers threaded between his, a grip so tight it’s like he’s afraid to let me go.

  “Okay, you have to tell me. Something feels really off.”

  “Do you remember the friends I told you about?” he says, and I nod as we weave through the Bourbon Street crowd. “They’re in town this week and I haven’t seen them in a while. I’ve been afraid of confronting them all day.”

  I lift my shoulder. “Well, sometimes the best thing to do is come clean.”

  “What about you? How was your morning?” he asks.

  “My mom stopped by. Did you know your photo is in the Gazette? Not all of you, just, like, half of your body. But my mom asked me about you. I told her you’re coming to the ball and she’s fine with it.”

  “She is?”

  “Yeah. Though, I apologize in advance for the interrogation you’re going to receive from everyone in her campaign.”

  His fingers reach for his collar, like he was expecting to find a tie there, but instead, he fiddles with the first button. “I can handle it. So, where are we going to eat?”

  “Have you ever had a po’boy?” I ask, and it’s worth it just for the look on his face. We get to Pete’s Po’boys and grab two seats in a dimly lit corner. “Sorry it’s not a fancy place, but the food is amazing.”

  He takes my hand across the table, and my heart does that bubbly feeling again, like my insides are turning into champagne. “I love it. I can finally say I’ve been to a place where there’s an alligator hanging from the ceiling.”

  I chuckle, but we both can’t help looking up at the taxidermy of an alligator right smack in the middle of the ceiling, surrounded by light fixtures. There’s a light bulb in its mouth, and the owner has arranged some dried grass to look like it’s sprouting from the ceiling.

  “That can’t be real, can it?” Aiden asks.

  “I mean, the owner is an avid hunter. When I was a little girl, I came in here and he told me a story about the time he made his first catch. He’d gotten himself lost in the swamp and thought he was fish food. But he followed this gator and it led him right back to where he needed to go.”

  “So he killed it?”

  I brush the air with my fingers. “No! He caught the gator trying to kill his gator friend. It was very dramatic. The swamp critters never forgave him.”

  “You’re fucking with me because I’m from New York.”

  “Is it working?” I lower my lashes and lean toward him.

  His mouth hangs open as his eyes trace the whole line of my lips. It makes my skin heat up every time he does that. I knew I should have skipped the po’boys.

  “Yes,” he tells me.

  The waitress comes over and takes our order. The place is bustling with people, abuzz with so many conversations that we don’t stick out. Well, except for how overdressed we are. In the shadow of our little booth, we seem to fit in all right. The waitress brings over our drinks first. Two bourbon concoctions with ginger and lavender.

  “What should we cheers to?” I ask.

  “To the safety of all alligators,” he says.

  “You look like you have something on your mind,” I say, after I take the first sip. The drink is refreshing in the heat of the evening.

  “I’ve had you on my mind all day, Faith,” he says.

  I know, I know it sounds like a line. But the way he says it, without a trace of irony—I just don’t know. I believe him. I let him take my hand in his. His thumbs trace across
the tops of my hands. I can’t think of the last time a man touched me like this. Like holding my hands was enough.

  “I think I made a mistake,” I say. I hardly trust my own voice.

  His eyes are questioning. “What is it?”

  “I should have taken you straight home.”

  We’re leaning so far across the table that the little candlelight between us is warm against my chin.

  “I mean, whatever happens tonight, we’ll need some energy.”

  He’s going to kiss me. I know he’s going to kiss me by the way his whiskey-brown eyes search my face. He shuts his eyes and I would do the same. Except for the very inconvenient waitress who brings out our food.

  Two po’boys. Shrimp and meatball marinara. I’m glad I have an entire pack of mints in my purse.

  “Okay, you have to tell me your honest opinion,” I say.

  Aiden takes a bite of the shrimp. He shuts his eyes and bites so long that I think he’s having some sort of attack. “It’s not my tía Ceci’s arroz con menestra y carne asada, pero, like, this is amazing.”

  I only understood half of that sentence, but it’s enough.

  When I first met Aiden, I knew he was the type of guy who enjoyed things. Food. Drink. Sex. Watching him enjoy the food of my city makes me want him even more.

  We decline a second drink and can barely finish our orders. We take the rest to go. We fight over the bill, but I let him pay this one.

  “Do you want to walk the food off a little?” I ask as we leave the restaurant. As much as I want to take him back to my place, or go back to his place, something is stopping me. I don’t know if it’s the vibes he was giving off before, or if I’m having second thoughts about being with him.

  My mind likes to throw wrenches like that every so often. Angie says that that’s why I’m single. But I know it has to be more than that. It would have been one thing if we’d had a fantastic one-night stand. But it was messy and awkward and it left me wanting more. Because I do want more of him. Holding his hand down the street even feels like being too far away. I shouldn’t have these feelings for a guy I’ve only known for a handful of days, but I’ve spent more time with him than the random string of half-hour dates I’ve had the last two months.