Gentleman Nine

by Penelope Ward

  She sniffed the air. “I do.”

  I took a sip of my coffee and addressed her previous question. “I still appreciate a pretty face and a hot body, but it takes a lot more than that to thrill me now. A man can only take so much ass before he needs something more. My brain needs to be stimulated just as much as my dick.”

  Amber looked a bit flushed. “I see.”

  Needing to redirect my mind from focusing on how adorable her blushing was, I said, “You know what else is great about first dates in bookstores?”

  “What?”

  “If it ends up being a dud, you still get to take something new home to cuddle up with in bed.” I wriggled by brows.

  “I like the way you think, Lord.”

  My eyes landed on a situation happening in one of the aisles. “Even observing people in bookstores can be fun.” I pointed to this dude I’d been watching before she arrived. “Take that guy, for example. Look how he’s not even opening up the book he’s holding. He’s been watching that woman who’s browsing next to him the entire time. He’s pretending to be interested in The Nightingale, but really, he’s totally getting ready to make his move. And that choice of book was no accident, either. It’s a popular book. The likelihood that she’s read it and liked it is high. So, he’s counting on it as a potential conversation starter.”

  “That theory makes sense, but how can you be so sure of what’s about to happen?” She drew her own conclusion. “Ah…you’ve picked women up in bookstores before, too.”

  Shrugging, I admitted, “I might have done the casual aisle thing once.”

  “Did it work?”

  I simply smirked.

  Amber rolled her eyes. “I didn’t even need to ask. I’m sure everything works for you.”

  It amused me that she assumed things were so easy for me. “Why do you think that?”

  “Because women have always been unable to resist you. It doesn’t matter whether it’s the bookstore aisle or the pet aisle at the supermarket, the story is the same in the end. You get the girl. You can have any woman you want.”

  “I’ll have you know that’s not always the case, Amber Walton.”

  “Someone rejected you?”

  She was still clueless as to how I used to feel about her, never imagining that she was the first person who came to mind when she asked me that question. Even though it wasn’t a blatant rejection, she had no idea how it felt for me when she got together with Rory. Besides Amber, there was only one other woman in my life whom I’d wanted but couldn’t have. I don’t think I’d ever spoken about the situation with Emily to another person. If anyone could understand, though, it was Amber.

  “Yes, actually. Someone did reject me once.”

  “Really?” She leaned in. “Do tell, Channing.”

  “There’s not much to tell. Her name is Emily. About a year ago, we met at the wedding of a buddy of mine. It was a three-day event in the Bahamas. We had this weird, instant connection. She was probably the first woman I can honestly say I could’ve seen myself in a relationship with or at least trying for it.” I paused as I thought back to that weekend. “Anyway, we had an amazing time together. We were inseparable. I hadn’t felt that way about someone in a long while. When the weekend came to an end, I went back to Chicago. And she went home to Massachusetts. We stayed in touch long-distance.”

  “Wait…she lives here in Mass?”

  “Yeah…somewhere outside Boston, ironically.”

  “So, you’d gotten closer to her over the phone and then what?”

  “Yeah. We were talking a lot—lots of Skype sex. And I found myself thinking about her a lot when we weren’t communicating. I was supposed to come out to visit her, but she ended up getting back together with her ex-boyfriend out of the blue. I’d known about him all along, but she never gave me any indication that she was still into him. Anyway, she explained that she felt terrible for leading me on and all of that but that she had to follow her heart. There’s really not much more to tell. It’s nothing compared to what you’re going through with Rory, but I’m not unfamiliar with disappointment.”

  She seemed truly shocked. Amber had definitely witnessed some of my biggest moments of vulnerability in those months after Lainey died. But over the years, I’d put up such a good front around people, that I made it easy for her to forget that I’d ever had a sensitive side. She probably thought I’d hardened a lot more than I actually had.

  “Wow. Thank you for sharing that with me. I guess it was dumb of me to assume that you were immune to getting hurt.”

  “I wasn’t looking for anything serious. But Emily just came out of the blue.”

  “That’s how it happens sometimes, I would imagine.”

  I was done talking about Emily. I’d pretty much gotten over that whole thing, but rehashing it made me feel like shit. This was a taste of how Amber must have felt the other night when I made her talk about what happened with Rory.

  Glancing over at the man macking in the aisle, I said, “See? What did I say about him?”

  The dude was now holding the book behind his back as he chatted with his female prey.

  “Holy crap. You were right.” Amber was cracking up. “Oh, my God. She’s leaving with him now!”

  “See. That was slick. Slow and steady wins the race.”

  “Apparently.”

  I took her empty coffee mug and returned it to the counter.

  Back at the table, I asked, “You want to look around?”

  “Sure. Now that the fiction aisle A through L is done being used for Love Connection.”

  As we browsed, I brushed my index finger along the books on the shelves while Amber followed close behind me.

  “Now, I want you to really think about this question, Amber.”

  “Okay…”

  “If there’s one book here that you’ve read, that you’d want me to read, what would it be? It should be something that I would probably otherwise never think to pick up on my own.”

  She continued to follow me in silence until she finally said, “Probably The Law of Attraction.” She pointed to the non-fiction section. “I saw it over there. I’m actually studying it right now and would love another person’s take on what it teaches.”

  “Alright. I’m gonna buy it and read it. But you have to read whatever I pick for you. Deal?”

  “Yes.”

  I picked up The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. “Have you ever read this?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, this is my choice for you. We’ll give each other a month to read. Then, we’ll discuss.”

  “This is shaping up to be an exciting few months for you, Lord. Cats…staying home and reading. What’s next? Should I be looking for a Bingo hall?”

  “Get on that. Also, don’t forget living with Negative Nancy…that’s another one.”

  “Yup. That, too.”

  I hoped she truly knew I was joking. “I’m really enjoying being here so far. More than I anticipated, actually.”

  “It must have been the moldy cheese that did it.”

  “Definitely the moldy cheese.” I grinned.

  We were standing in line waiting to check out when I asked, “Hey, you hungry for dinner?”

  “Yeah, I’m starving.”

  I knew exactly where I wanted to take her. “I saw this Jamaican place down the street on the way here.”

  “I’ve never had Jamaican food.”

  “You don’t know what you’re missing, then.”

  “What’s your favorite dish?”

  Without having to think, I answered, “Curry goat.”

  “Did you just say goat?”

  “Yup.”

  “Snails…goat…do you eat anything normal?”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  * * *

  AMBER

  I’d been deep in thought when Annabelle took a seat next to me in the teacher’s lounge.

  “How’s Channing?” she asked as she opened her lunch bag.

  I co
uldn’t actually tell her the truth.

  Well, Annabelle, I’ve masturbated to thoughts of him every night since his arrival. It’s a problem.

  “He’s great, actually. I’m really enjoying his company.”

  Well, that was the truth, too.

  She bobbed her head to the side as she looked at me. “You seem like you have something on your mind.”

  I have a lot of things on my mind, and most of them are not safe for work.

  “Well…it’s nothing…it’s just…”

  “What?”

  I thought up an analogy to explain what I was feeling.

  “You know how when you’re on a diet…as long as you don’t bring bad stuff into the house, you’re fine, but as soon as someone brings over that box of cupcakes, all of your willpower is gone? That’s sort of what having an attractive man around does to the celibate woman. Being around Channing is making me realize how badly I need to get laid.”

  Annabelle was laughing at me. “The solution seems simple to me.”

  She just couldn’t seem to get it into her thick head that I refused to go there with Channing. Just because two people are single doesn’t mean they’re a good fit.

  “I don’t know how many times I can explain it to you. I could never be with him in that way.”

  She examined my face then said, “I worry that the real reason you’re afraid to consider that is because of Rory.”

  The R word immediately triggered my defenses. “What about Rory?”

  “A part of you thinks that Rory and you are going to get back together, and you know that sleeping with Channing would ruin that because Rory would never be able to accept it. Am I right?”

  God. Maybe. Maybe, that was at the back of my mind.

  “I don’t know. Maybe, subconsciously. There is no doubt that Rory would never get over it if something happened with Channing and me. That’s for sure. But first of all, even if I didn’t care about the repercussions of sleeping with Channing, I don’t think he looks at me in a sexual way. He never did. He sees me like a sister.”

  “How can you be so sure of that?”

  “I can’t entirely…but he could have almost any woman he wants. Well, everyone but some chick named Emily. So, it’s a safe assumption.”

  “Emily?”

  “Some girl he was telling me about that led him on then went back to her old boyfriend. I bet she’s out of this world gorgeous.”

  He’d surprised me with that story. Emily must have really been something for Channing to want to consider settling down. That whole thing made me a little sad for him. I was jealous of Emily and kind of wanted to kick her ass for hurting my friend at the same time.

  Her mouth was full when she said, “Have you looked in the mirror lately?”

  “Yes, and I need to get my eyebrows threaded. Badly.”

  “You’re selling yourself short. I’d kill for your body. Don’t let it go to waste. You’re only young once. We got to get you back in the game.”

  Annabelle would often compliment me. With her frizzy, black hair, prominent nose, and stalky body, we were opposites physically.

  “My problem is…I’m not ready for a relationship. But at the same time, I don’t want to just hook up with someone, either. There’s really no in-between. You know what I wish?” I looked around to make sure we were still alone. “I wish I had like a superpower where I could have sex with a man and erase the whole experience after, so that there was no aftermath or guilt. I would never run into him again. In fact, he would stop existing after that. But that’s just a fantasy.”

  “Uh…no, it’s not. That’s called a one-night stand.”

  “Well, you’d have to actually go out or online date to have a one-night stand. That sounds really daunting to me right now. I’m not ready for either one of those things.”

  “You just want to get laid by the magically disappearing cock.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh when I said, “You need to lower your voice.”

  Annabelle squinted her eyes. She was giving me a weird look, making me think she was cooking up something in her brain.

  “What do you have up your sleeve?” I asked.

  “Who says you can’t have what you want?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When you just told me about your little superpower fantasy, you reminded me of something.”

  “What?”

  “Okay, you know my cousin Shae, the single attorney who lives in Wellesley?”

  “Yeah. You’ve mentioned her.”

  “Well…the last time I saw her was at my sister’s wedding. She had a little too much to drink and began to open up to me at the reception.” Annabelle lowered her voice. “She told me that she went to see a male escort.”

  Looking behind my shoulder, I whispered, “You mean a prostitute…”

  “Technically, yes. But she said this guy was amazing both physically and personality-wise. She said it was one of the most enjoyable nights she’s ever had.”

  “She only saw him once?”

  “Well, it’s very expensive—like a thousand dollars for one night. Shae said it was worth every penny. Apparently, it was just what she needed to feel confident and sexy again. A little while after that, she started to put herself out there and began dating the man she’s now engaged to. But she attributes this escort with getting her out of the funk she’d been in. Not to mention, she said it was the best sex of her life.”

  “Really…well, I could never do something like that.”

  “Suppose you had the money, though…why would you say that you would never do it?”

  She couldn’t be serious.

  “Because he probably has some disease, for one.”

  “Actually, I brought that up with her, and she said that they discussed it before they had any physical contact. He told her he gets tested frequently and is very rigid about practicing safe sex. He was very open about everything. They spoke quite a bit online before they met.”

  “Wow. Well, that definitely doesn’t sound like what I envision a male prostitute to be like.”

  “It wasn’t. I guess this company caters to the professional woman. They know that smart women want more than just a night of sex. They want to be with someone who is both sexy and intelligent. Honestly, if I were single and had the money, I would totally do it.”

  I wasn’t sure I believed her. “Really? You would?”

  “Why not? I agree with you that dating can be brutal. Sometimes, a girl just needs a good lay and nothing more.” She whipped out her phone.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m texting Shae for the information on the escort service.”

  “Why?”

  “Just in case you want to look into it.” She winked. “You can start saving now. Skip the gel nails and the lattes for a few months.”

  “You’re crazy. Don’t bother.”

  She ignored me and kept typing. “Like I said, can’t hurt to have the information.”

  We’d been so wrapped up in this conversation, I hadn’t even heated up my lunch. I popped my bowl into the microwave, waited, and just as it dinged, so did Annabelle’s phone.

  “Oh, she responded!”

  I blew on the escarole soup. “What did she say?”

  “Let me read it verbatim.” She paused. “It’s called Newbury Gentleman’s Club. They have a generic website. They obviously don’t advertise the fact that they offer more than just escort services. The woman who owns it has a direct email. Most of their business is through word of mouth, since they can’t be too blatant in their advertising. You contact this woman initially, and she gives you a password to a secure portal where you can choose the person based on physical attributes and a brief description of personality traits of the man you want to meet. For example, you can indicate whether you want to be with someone who’s rough in bed or someone who is more gentle. You can indicate preferences like blond or dark-haired, bulky or lean. They don’t show photos to protect
the man’s privacy, but they guarantee that on a scale of one to ten on the looks ratio, all of their men fall in the ten range.” She turned to me. “God, this is better than being a kid in a candy store! Anyway, she just pasted the email address of the woman in charge but also gave me a password that she said might still work to bypass having to contact the woman in order to get into the secure site. I’m forwarding you all the information.”

  That made me nervous for some reason. “Why?”

  “Because I want to live vicariously through you. I think you should look into it.”

  Annabelle had seriously lost her mind.

  “And where exactly am I going to get this money?” I asked even though I wasn’t really entertaining this.

  “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

  I neglected to mention that I had quite a bit of savings, and that technically, money wasn’t the issue. I could easily afford the thousand-dollar price tag without denting my bank account because I’d always been smart with my money and saved a lot. That wasn’t the deterrent for me so much as my fear of disease and my pride.

  ***

  A few days later, it was Sunday night, and my emotions were all over the place.

  I’d just logged into Facebook to find Rory had been tagged in a photo posted by someone named Jennifer Barney. They were walking along the Charles River, both wearing athletic clothing. I assumed he must have been dating her. It was the first time I’d had to see him with anyone else, and it was absolutely devastating.

  After thoroughly stalking her photos, I realized that Jennifer’s features were similar to mine, which made it all even worse somehow. He’d broken up with me to spend time with someone who looked like she could be my sister. And that burned.

  I did something I considered doing a long time ago but never followed through with: I unfriended him to avoid having to see his posts. It was time. I didn’t want a front row seat to his moving on.

  The condo was eerily quiet as I sat alone with my misery. Well, I wasn’t completely alone. Kitty was sulking on the other end of the couch. It was the first time Channing had left her alone with me.

  He’d flown back to Chicago for the weekend. I was grateful for the reprieve, not because I didn’t enjoy his company, but because I was starting to enjoy it a little too much—his smell, his laugh, everything about him. It was also nice to not have to worry about what I looked like as I lounged around in my sweats.