Perfect Ten
Page 14
“What the fuck was that for?”
Whoops. I put my hand out to help him up. “Uh, sorry, man. I’ve sort of staked my claim. Guess I shouldn’t even have brought it up.”
He brushed the dirt off his ass and gave me a hard glare. “Yeah, okay. I always thought you liked blondes better anyway, but whatever.”
“Huh? I do. Oh, you mean Chloe. She’s not the beauty I meant. You can have her, but I’d be careful. She’s a tough one.” I’d only met Chloe once, of course, and I liked her a lot, but she gave out a very clear warning signal not to fuck with her.
“Cool. Maybe I will.” Chloe’s dark brown ponytail slapped Faith in the face as she whipped her head around at the sound of a car backfiring.
“Go for it. Don’t fuck with her, though. I think you’d regret it.”
Since we were playing shirts and skins, I could get away with taking my shirt off and not looking like I was trying too hard to impress Faith before I approached her and Chloe. “Hi, ladies. Thanks for coming. I hope you’re ready to cheer us on.”
I was pleased to note Faith’s eyes scanning me up and down, stopping on my happy trail and following it down. God knows I was more than willing to let her explore to her heart’s content.
“You know what, Joe? You should never wear shirts. Never.” While Chloe’s eyes were slightly lecherous, I could tell she was just having fun flirting. At Faith’s glare at her, my heart flipped a bit, and I laughed out loud.
“Thanks.” I looked over to see Faith’s eyes now firmly glued to the horizon. “If only everyone felt that way.”
“Oh, she does. She’s just trying to ignore it.”
“Oh, come on. I’m sitting right here.”
Chloe playfully pushed her so that she swayed a little on the bench. “Then join in the appreciation. Look at your man. He’s beautiful.”
“He’s not my man, Chloe, but fine. You look good, Joe.” She lowered her eyes a little and said quietly, “Really, really good.”
I put my finger under her chin and raised her head up. “Thank you. You look really, really good too.” I kissed her quickly and gently on the nose and tugged on one of her braids. “And I fucking love these.” My language could probably use some polishing, but when she does something to turn me on, like wear two braids that I could easily see myself tugging on, the f-bomb comes out. I can’t help it. She’s fucking hot, and I want her.
Right before I turned around to head back to the court, something miraculous happened. She smiled at me. Right at me. Gave me a big grin and gently slapped my stomach. “Go get ’em. Win big!”
“For you. First basket’s for you.” I jogged off before I could do something stupid like grab her and kiss the daylights out of her like I always want to do.
I was the first one to put points on the board, and I could hear Faith cheering for me. I’m telling you, I’ve never felt like this before. Women threw themselves at me on a regular basis. Most of them were nice to me and pretended to care about me, but it was all in the moment. The next day, they were gone, I was back to work, and it began all over with another woman. But Faith made me feel special. She made me feel like I was worth knowing out of bed. It was something I’d like to try, although I knew how hard it would be for me.
Sex was constantly on my mind. And I’m not talking about how all men think about sex all the time. I know I mentioned it before, but I do think there is a possibility that I’m addicted to sex. Quitting it cold turkey—well, if you didn’t count the, oh God, coming-in-my-pants thing—was a bitch.
And, now I’m lying on the ground, flat on my back because I wasn’t thinking about the game. As an added bonus, I got road rash on my back since I was part of the skins team. Great.
“Your mind over on the benches there, Starling? Works for me. We’re up by two now. Thanks!” Huh, I thought we were up. Maybe I didn’t score the first points. Who knew? My mind wasn’t in the game.
A short while later, the score was eighteen to sixteen, and we were playing to twenty. No one had gotten any foul shots yet. The winning team had to win by two points. I couldn’t tell you how many times we went past the twenty points in past games just to get someone up by two. We were pretty evenly matched.
Another missed opportunity, and I took some more flak about my girl. “Fuck off, Mattson.” I needed to get my head in the game. I spared one last glance for Faith and that cost me a basketball to the head.
Brian slapped me hard on the back. “You really got it bad, eh?” The guys all shared a laugh at my expense, and I could see Chloe shaking Faith and laughing.
Faith cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, “Is that all you’ve got, Starling? Not too impressive from over here!”
I looked at her in disbelief. She was certainly coming out of her shell tonight. Raising my eyebrows to convey that I accepted her challenge, I grabbed the ball and started forward again. I took a shot, and all you could hear was the swish of the net. Tied at eighteen.
With sweat running down my face, I stole the ball away from the other team and took another shot, which bounced off the backboard without going in the net, but Brian caught the rebound and dunked it in for the winning basket.
“Yeah!”
“Suck it, Stallions!”
“More like geldings!”
There was always a lot of good-natured ribbing after a game.
“Aw, fuck all of you.”
“Perfect Ten…should be Perfect Pussies!”
After the name-calling ended, we all shook hands and agreed to meet the following week. Same time, same place.
My shirt was now a darker blue than it was before I wiped my sweat off on it and threw it over my head. I was drenched, but it felt good. Being an escort demanded I keep my body in top form, and basketball was a whole hell of a lot more fun than running or spending an hour on the elliptical. Of course, technically, I could stop working so hard, but I have to admit, I liked the results. And if Faith liked them? I’d keep working out just as hard. I just hope she didn’t think I expected her to. As I’ve said many times, I don’t want her to lose those succulent curves.
The girls were standing when I reached them. Each had a beer in hand. “May I?” Without waiting for an answer, I grabbed Faith’s and drank it down, trying like the devil to hold my belch in. Pretty hard to do when you just downed at least a half a can of beer. As discreetly as possible, I let it out. Really, I needed some courting lessons.
Faith turned around and bent over to grab another beer out of their cooler. Why? Why did she have to do that? With a mind of their own, my hands instinctively reached out to her glorious rump.
“Uh-uh.” Chloe shook her head at me, warning me off.
I did have the grace to look away then. “Yeah, sorry.”
“What are you two talking about?” Faith turned and handed Chloe and me both a can of Molson.
“Nothing. So, did you enjoy the game?” They were probably bored. It was stupid to invite her. I think maybe I just wanted to show off for her.
“Yeah, I did.” Faith’s answer was short and to the point. Chloe was more animated.
“Holy hell. Fuck yes, I enjoyed the game. Seriously, it’s a shame you’re all man-whores, I would love—”
“Chloe! Rude!”
With no shame, Chloe shrugged. “Sorry, but it’s true, isn’t it?”
My head hung down. Again, I was ashamed of my occupation. “I guess it is. I just never thought about it before, to be honest. I’m not proud of my job anymore. There was a time not so long ago that I felt like I was on top of the world, but people change. We grow—evolve.”
“Yeah. Sorry, Joe. I tend to blurt things out that don’t pass my brain first.”
“No problem. I’ve been known to do that myself.” But it was a problem. Not because of what Chloe said, but because it was true. And there was nothing I could do to change my past. I wondered if Faith would always think of me like that. Like someone who sold their body for a living. It really wasn’t that far o
ff. Yes, I escorted women where they needed to go, but I had a ton of sex. There’s no denying that.
“Well, I tend to do it a lot. I’d like to say it’ll never happen again, but I know myself.” In a rare show of the softer side of Chloe, she put her hand on my shoulder. “I really do like you, Joe. And I think you and Faith could be good together, but your past scares me. And as much as I like you, know this. If you ever hurt our girl, you won’t be able to run far enough.”
“Understood.” Wow, this was supposed to be a light night of me flexing my muscles for Faith and her giggling like a schoolgirl. Sometimes I was seriously stupid. Why did I think it would be a good idea to invite the girl I wanted to make my own to a game filled with men who pretty much fucked women for a living? I needed to talk to my mom—or my sister. I was in so far over my head, I couldn’t see straight.
I walked the girls over to Faith’s car and waited until Chloe climbed in. “Thanks for coming tonight, Faith. It was nice to see you. Are you sure I can’t take you to lunch or something?”
“No. I’m sorry. Not yet. I’ll see you in about a week and a half.”
“Twelve days. It’s still almost two weeks.” I sighed, but I understood her feelings. Really, I did, I just didn’t like it. “Good night.” I leaned in to give her a kiss, but she’d already jumped in the car.
“Twelve days, Joe.”
I watched her drive away until I couldn’t see her car’s taillights any longer.
Chapter 20
The second of my last five dates was an easy and pleasant one. I was escorting an eighty-five-year-old woman named Esther Covington to a semiprivate tour of the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. She came from an old family with even older money.
I’d escorted Mrs. Covington to several museums throughout the years. She was simply a lonely lady who had no family and enjoyed good conversation with handsome young men. Those were her words, not mine.
I drove Perfect Ten’s antique Rolls-Royce to pick her up, because that’s what she preferred. Black-tie attire was also called for, even at three in the afternoon on a Wednesday.
She was one of my favorite clients. Sex was not something I ever had to be worried about with her, and she had such great stories to tell. There was nothing not to like about Mrs. Covington. I felt bad that she was so alone in the world, but she never felt bad for herself. She had some friends she played cards with, two dogs, a cat, and a handful of other critters ranging from hamsters to rabbits. Her mansion was also stocked with a very loyal and caring staff to see to her every need. I wondered what would happen to her estate when she passed. Her family had been in the oil business, but sadly, no one was left.
I pulled up fifteen minutes early, just as she preferred. The sight of her mansion still astonished me. It was by far the largest house I’d ever seen. She gave me little bits of information about it each time I saw her.
It was an astounding seventy-five thousand square feet with twenty-nine bedrooms and three pools! I forget how many bathrooms it had. At one time, she had been offered a staggering $165 million to sell it, but she wouldn’t budge. She didn’t care about the grandeur of the house. It was simply her home. She’d lived there most of her life. Like Faith’s father seemed to be, she was of a different brand than the bulk of the Richie Riches in Beverly Hills.
Straightening my jacket and tie, I strode up to the door and lifted the heavy brass knocker. As expected, when the housekeeper opened the door, I saw her seated on a heavily padded deacon’s bench in the entryway waiting for me. “Mrs. Covington, permit me to tell you how ravishing you look today. You do that dress a lovely justice.”
She pulled herself up with her cane, smoothing the skirt of her sophisticated black-and-white dress as she did so. I knew better than to try to assist her. Independence was the last thing she had left, she’d told me before, and I wasn’t to take it from her. There were times though, that I’d sneak a steadying hand under her elbow just the same. I’m sure she knew it too.
“Oh, Joe. How many times do I have to tell you? It’s just Esther.” She slipped her gnarled hand through the crook of my elbow and allowed me to lead her out the door.
“I just can’t do it, Mrs. Covington. You deserve my utmost respect.” That was exactly what she wanted to hear. We’d done this a time or two. “Now tell me. How are all your lovelies doing?” That’s what she called her animals.
“Oh, Joe. You’re so sweet to ask. You know you’re my favorite young man, don’t you?”
“I count myself honored.” I really did too. I never knew any of my grandparents. Mrs. Covington was a marvel. It was such a shame that she had no family left. A tragedy. Her husband had died of heart failure six years ago. Her children never would have had to work a day in their lives if they chose not to. Her son felt the call of duty to help and protect. She lost him overseas during the Gulf War to a random shooting spree. He’d been a fifty-four-year-old retired police officer trying to teach security forces how to effectively keep the peace when he was senselessly gunned down. His wife and two twenty-something-year-old children were killed in a horrific multi-car pile-up on their way home from his funeral.
Her other child, a daughter, died giving birth to her own stillborn child. The daughter’s husband was so distraught at losing both his wife and unborn child that he took his own life. I don’t know how she survived it all. I’m not sure that I could have. The only thing that had kept me sane when my father died was knowing how much my mother and sister needed me.
“Well, Mr. Darcy and Fancy—they’re my two newest kitties—tend to fight a lot, but they’ll work it out. Old Duke finally gave up a couple of months ago and died in his sleep. I miss him terribly. He was a German shepherd, you know.” I did know. We went over all the animals each time I saw her, but I didn’t mind. She went down the list of the next eight or so animals, naming them all and telling me of any ailments they might have had.
“It sounds like, for the most part, your critters are happy and healthy. I’m sorry about Duke.” She patted my hand in acknowledgment. “You know, I’m actually taking a friend of mine to Lions, Tigers, and Bears in a couple of weeks. She loves animals too.” I’m not sure why I told her that. My private life stays private. I rarely talk about myself with clients. I like to pretend I lead two completely separate lives.
“Do you have a special friend now?” She patted my hand and waited anxiously for my answer.
“I do. Actually, Mrs. Covington. I only have a couple of weeks left at Perfect Ten. I quit.”
“That’s interesting, dear. And why now?”
“Well, I want more. I’m going to go back to school and finish my architecture degree. And then there’s Faith.” Even though I could feel my face flush at the mention of Faith, it felt good to talk to someone about leaving. For some reason, Mrs. Covington always made me feel like a little boy again, looking for approval. I hadn’t even told my family yet.
“Good for you. You always were too nice to do the kind of work you do. Oh, now don’t look at me like that. I may be an old lady, but I know what goes on with those women you take out.”
Now that was uncomfortable. I had no idea what to say to her, so I stuck with the truth. “Well, I don’t want that kind of life anymore. I met a really nice girl, and I think I’d like to have a life with her. Or at least find out if I do. I just know I’m tired of dating different women all the time.” Oh shit! I didn’t want to make her feel bad. “Present company excluded, of course.”
“Nah. Who wants to go to a museum with an old lady like me when you could be out with a young gal doing something fun?”
“To tell you the truth, Mrs. Covington, I love our outings. You’ve brought culture to my life. Would you believe I even have a small collection of classical music now? I’m not saying I’ll ever give up my rock-n-roll, but you’ve taught me to appreciate the finer things. I’m glad for that.”
She patted my hand again and wiped suspiciously at her eyes. “That’s very sweet of you to say.”
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br /> I wasn’t just saying that, and suddenly, I felt it was important for her to know that. This sweet, loving woman needed to know that she mattered to me. “That’s not just something I’m saying. When I saw your name on my list as one of my last dates at Perfect Ten, I was glad. I enjoy our outings so much that I’m hoping you’ll allow me to visit when you’re not paying me to do so.” I flashed her a warm smile and hoped she’d say yes. Faith would adore her; I just knew it.
“Joe Starling. You are welcome to knock on my door anytime. Day or night, holidays, anytime at all. And I’d love to meet this young lady who has so touched your heart.”
After we did our slow tour of the museum, I took Mrs. Covington to her country club for dinner. My time was officially up with her, but I didn’t want to leave her yet.
“Oh my!” Mrs. Covington exclaimed as she woke up from dozing off in the car. We had just pulled into the parking lot of the club when she awoke. “What are we doing here, Joe? I only booked you to take me to the museum, dear.”
“Well, I thought it might be nice to take you for a bite to eat before we head back. I told you, I enjoy your company, Mrs. Covington. Please, let’s have dinner before I drive you home.”
Her beaming smile told me right away that I’d made a good call. “Well, isn’t that lovely.”
As I was helping her out of the car, I saw an achingly skinny woman out of the corner of my eye, who looked somewhat familiar. She was accompanied by another extremely thin waif of a thing. And then it hit me. It was Faith’s mother and her model sister.
Mrs. Covington felt my hesitation and followed my line of sight. “What’s wrong, dear?”
“Oh, nothing. I’m sorry.” But she knew something was amiss and wouldn’t budge until I told her. “Those women over there, going into the club, are Faith’s mother and sister. They’re not nice to her at all.”
“Does your Faith have pretty, wavy reddish-blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes? Does she look pretty, like she eats more than a celery stick for dinner?”