Beautiful Entourage

by E. L. Todd

  “I will. That vacation to Hawaii sounds tempting.”

  He laughed and patted my shoulder before he walked away.

  I breathed a sigh of relief when he was gone. How did Aspen put up with that shallow and selfish man on a daily basis? She deserved a medal from the President of the United States.

  She appeared out of thin air. “How’d it go?”

  I relaxed when I recognized her. “He likes me. Mission accomplished.”

  “You know, my father likes anyone with money. He’ll know you’re lying about GMC.”

  “No, he won’t,” I said. “I know the CEO. He’ll cover for me.”

  “He will?” she asked in surprise.

  “When you’re in this business, you meet all kinds of people.” I shrugged then finished my scotch.

  “You undercharge, you know that?”

  I chuckled. “After doing this for so long, it becomes second nature.”

  “Hopefully, my dad comes around and decides to give me the company. He’s being a real pain in the ass about it.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said. “How did you turn out so amazing but your father is…not the best?” I tried to be sensitive since it was her father I was bad-mouthing.

  “The words you’re looking for are smelly douchebag.”

  “Smelly douchebag?” I said with a laugh.

  “And I don’t have an answer to that question. I suppose it’s because he spoiled Lance and made me work for every dime I had. Or maybe he has a mental disorder. Probably both.” She rolled her eyes in irritation.

  “For what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty amazing for putting up with their bullshit.”

  “Thank you.” She put her hands on her hips. “It’s about time someone said it.”

  I chuckled then put my arm around her waist. “Now what?”

  “I want to ditch,” she said. “Get some ice cream.”

  That was the most random thing I ever heard. “Ice cream?”

  “Yum…with chocolate syrup and whipped cream.”

  It sounded like she’d been thinking about it for a while. “Can we do that?”

  “No.” She deflated like a balloon. “Let’s stay for dinner then hightail it out of here. My dad might want to talk to you again. You guys discussed golf, cars, and money. Now women is all that’s left.”

  “That would be an interesting conversation…”

  We took our seats at the table near the front of the stage, and plates were set in front of us. I put my hand on Aspen’s thigh and noted how toned it was. Her legs were thin but they were tight. I wondered if she was a runner.

  Her father took a seat at the table and so did her brother.

  Lance glared at Aspen across the table.

  She ignored him.

  “So, what’s this about you pouring booze on a waiter?” Mr. Lane asked his son.

  Lance shot Aspen a hateful look, clearly pissed she tattled on him when she hadn’t. “Aspen was the one who knocked me into him. Then she tried to pour champagne on me but got the waiter instead.”

  Did he really think anyone would believe that?

  Mr. Lane gave Aspen a dark look. “Is that true?”

  “Absolutely not.” She kept her voice low so no one else would hear. “Lance brought his annoying friends along and they were just being jerks.”

  It didn’t seem like her father believed her. “You need to stop picking on your brother. It’s always something with him. Just let it go.”

  Aspen looked outraged.

  Lance grinned like an idiot.

  Was this a joke? Did the owner of a billion dollar company really believe his punk-ass son just because he was a boy?

  “You should just fire her, Dad,” Lance said seriously. “She’s an embarrassment.”

  Aspen looked like she might explode.

  Her dad started to eat like the conversation no longer interested him.

  I knew I should stay out of the argument because it wasn’t my place but I couldn’t let Aspen be knocked around like a punching bag. “Sir, Lance did pour champagne on that waiter. It was an unprovoked attack. I saw the entire thing.”

  Their father turned his gaze on Lance. “Rhett says you’re lying. What do you say to that?”

  “Who cares what he says? He’s just a punk.”

  I stared him down without blinking. This guy was a scumbag.

  “I do,” Mr. Lane said. “And you’re suspended from work without pay for two weeks.”

  I tried not to smile in victory.

  Aspen didn’t hide her joy. “Asshole…” she mumbled.

  “What the fuck?” Lance said. “That’s not fair.”

  “Do not cuss,” Mr. Lane hissed. “We’re in public.”

  Lance opened his mouth to speak but was cut off.

  “You want me to make it three weeks?” Mr. Lane threatened.

  It was pathetic that Lance had to be disciplined like a child.

  Lance threw his napkin down and marched off.

  Mr. Lane ate like nothing just happened.

  Aspen turned to her father. “When I say something you don’t believe me. But when Rhett, a guy you hardly know, says Lance is acting like a child, you believe him?”

  He sighed. “Don’t get started, Aspen.”

  She turned away like she’d been slapped in the face.

  I held her hand under the table and tried to comfort her. It was ridiculous she had to put up with this. Of the three of them, she was the most responsible and logical one. “Think about that sundae we’re going to get,” I whispered in her ear.

  Somehow, she found the strength to smile. “With a cherry on top.”

  I smiled at her, glad she didn’t let her woes weigh her down. “I’ll give you mine so you’ll have two.”

  “You practically just gave me your soul.”

  “Well, make sure you enjoy it.”

  She squeezed my hand. “Oh, I will.”

  ***

  She and I left the fundraiser the moment they announced the last winner of the silent auction. Without saying goodbye to her father or spitting on her brother, which was an impressive feat, we slipped out and reached the crowded sidewalk.

  “Geez, that was torture.” She tucked her clutch under her arm and walked beside me, keeping her grace despite the sky-high heels. Her shoulders were back and her spine was perfectly straight. She turned heads as she walked.

  “Good thing I got paid for it,” I said as I nudged her in the side playfully.

  She laughed then nudged me back. “Well, you got ripped off.”

  “It wasn’t so bad,” I said. “There was a full bar, dinner, and I got to spend the night with a beautiful woman.”

  She gave me a slow smile then faced forward. “You’re sweet.”

  “And not just because I’m paid to be sweet.”

  “You wouldn’t tell me otherwise even if it were true.”

  “No, probably not,” I said.

  We entered a small ice cream parlor a few blocks away then approached the glass that protected the ice cream from coughs and sneezes.

  She touched my arm gently then leaned toward my ear, like she was going to share a secret with me. “You know those scenes on TV when the mother or father goes to the room where they keep all the babies in the hospital after they’re born, and they stare in amazement at how beautiful their child is?”

  “Yeah.” I had a feeling I knew where she was going with this.

  “That’s how I feel every time I get ice cream.” She tapped the glass with her fingers then gave me a smile that clearly said she wasn’t ashamed.

  I chuckled. “Were you obese as a child?”

  “No. Somehow, I learned restraint.”

  “Well, don’t hold back tonight.”

  “I won’t,” she said. “After that terrible evening, I need a monster size. Alcohol fixes most people. But my poison is ice cream.”

  “At least it’s less detrimental than alcohol.”

  “What’s your po
ison?” she asked.

  I put my hands in my pockets as I thought of a response. “Running.”

  She stared at me blankly. “Running?”

  “Whenever I’m really upset, I’ll go for a long run. The endorphins you release during intense physical activity minimize pain.”

  She rolled her eyes then looked away. “Lame…”

  “How is that lame?”

  “A poison is something you abuse, something you shouldn’t use as a crutch. Your poison is healthy, so it’s lame.”

  “I never thought doing the smart thing would make me lame.”

  “Well, it does.”

  “Why don’t you try it sometime?” I asked.

  She gave me that look that clearly said, “You’re crazy.”

  “What?” I asked with a laugh. “I can tell you work out.”

  “I run,” she said. “But I have to force myself to go. And for a full hour before that I try to make excuses to get out of it. Like, I have to do the dishes. I have to make the grocery list. A nap doesn’t sound bad…”

  I tried not to laugh. “For what it’s worth, I’m not judging you.”

  “Oh, I feel so much better now,” she said sarcastically.

  I laughed even though I didn’t want to. When she was away from the stress of her dysfunctional family, she was really cool. She made me laugh more times than I could count.

  The guy behind the counter approached her. “What can I get you?”

  Her eyes lit up like a child. “Monster sundae with rocky road and extra fudge.” She said it quickly like she’d been eager to order for a while.

  “You got it,” he said. “Two spoons?”

  “Uh, no…” She shot me an apprehensive look then turned back to the guy. “That’s just for me.”

  “Oh.” He seemed embarrassed by the assumption. “And you, sir?”

  “I’ll have the same,” I said. “And one spoon.”

  “Wow, you’re going to eat all of that, Mr. Perfect?” she asked.

  “When did I ever say I was perfect?” I countered.

  She made her voice deep and imitated me. “When I’m upset, I run. I founded a successful company all on my own. Modeling? That’s beneath me…”

  I knew she was kidding so I wasn’t offended. “You hit the nail right on the head.”

  “I know.” She moved to the register and opened her wallet.

  I quickly handed the guy a twenty. “Keep the change, man.”

  “Why are you paying?” she asked. “I hired you for the evening.”

  “I may be working but I’m still a gentleman,” I said. “And you needed a treat after that night.” I carried our sundaes to a table then took off my jacket to get more comfortable.

  She eyed my shirt for a moment before she dug into her sundae. She didn’t eat it slowly or with tiny bites like most women. She scarfed it down, eating it before it started to melt. I couldn’t count the number of times I took a girl out for ice cream and her cup melted because she ate so slowly or didn’t eat it at all.

  “Who taught you to eat ice cream?” I asked.

  “Pardon?”

  I nodded to her sundae. “You know your way around a spoon.”

  “I usually get ice cream with Harper, and if I don’t eat fast, I don’t eat. You catch my drift?”

  “I think so,” I said with a smile.

  She finished before me, and then she eyed the cherry sitting in my bowl. She gave me a look that said, “That’s mine.”

  I dropped it in her bowl. “It’s all yours, sweetheart.”

  She ate both of her cherries. “Delicious. I could eat a whole bottle of these.”

  “They sell them at the grocery store.”

  “But that’s a slippery slope,” she said. “First it would be the cherries…and then it would be the ice cream…and then it would be the chocolate syrup. Before I knew what happened, there would be an ice cream bar in my house.”

  “Harper and I would be there all the time,” I said.

  She laughed loudly, her eyes watering.

  I didn’t think my comment was that funny.

  She dabbed her wet eyes with a napkin. “Sorry. I just imagined the three of us sitting in my apartment with a real ice cream bar. I found it hilarious for some reason.”

  I ate my ice cream while I smiled, which was hard to do. “I’m glad I could make you laugh. I think it’s better than any poison.”

  “And it’s a good workout for the abs. If I didn’t laugh, I’d be all flab.”

  I doubted that. “So, what’s next?”

  She dropped her plastic spoon in her empty cup. “Well, he liked you—a lot. That’s a good start. Honestly, I feared he wouldn’t. But you handled it very well.”

  “When you have something in common, it’s easy to find something to talk about,” I said. “And people usually like people they can relate to.”

  “True.”

  “Hopefully this moves you in the right direction.”

  “I think it will.” Her eyes looked distant, like she was thinking about something deep and complex. Then she turned her eyes on me, the trance broken. “Thank you so much. It’s nice to feel in control again.”

  Her sincerity caught me off guard. “No problem.” I held her gaze, entranced by the green eyes that were so vibrant they looked fake.

  “As soon as that company is mine, I won’t have to stress about him anymore. I can make the right decisions for everyone. And I’m going to fire that pathetic excuse I call my brother.”

  “Yeah…Lance was a peach.”

  She chuckled but it was in a sad way. “If you can believe it, he was worse when he was younger.”

  “No, I can,” I said without hesitation.

  She laughed again. “It’s embarrassing…”

  “Hey, we don’t choose our family, right?” I said, trying to make her feel better.

  “Actually, we do,” she said seriously. “Harper is my family and I’ve chosen her. We don’t share the same blood or ancestors but our minds are more alike than anyone else. For the holidays, my dad usually goes somewhere tropical with a date, or two, and I have no idea what my brother does, probably hires a prostitute for the night. I usually spend it with Harper and we have a grand time.”

  Aspen was unique in the sense she wasn’t a selfish prick like the rest of her family, but the aspect I admired most was her attitude about it. Clearly, the circumstance bothered her but it didn’t eat her alive. She had a positive outlook and refused to let it crush her soul. It was a rare and admirable characteristic.

  “I hope I meet her somewhere down the road.”

  “She’ll pop up at some point.” She looked over her shoulder like she expected to see her. “And when we least expect her.”

  “How long have you known each other?”

  “Since…I don’t even remember,” I said. “Elementary school? I fell on the slide and she ran over to me. My finger was swollen and painful. She grabbed a small branch that fell out of a tree and moved it around like a wand. Then she whispered a spell and fixed it. Well, at least I thought she did. Like a placebo effect, the pain went away. We’ve been best friends ever since.”

  I smiled involuntarily. “That’s a cute story.”

  “What about you?” she asked. “Do you have a best friend?”

  “Five, in a way.”

  “Five?” she asked in surprise.

  “Well, I’m closer to one more than all the others. His name is Troy. And if he heard me say the other four were also in my inner circle, he would throw a fit.”

  She chuckled. “Harper is the same way.”

  “We’ve been friends since we were small. The rest is history.”

  “Is he an escort?”

  “Yep, as well as the remaining four.”

  “I remember you mentioning him now.”

  “He’s a good guy,” I said. The best, actually.

  “You guys must never run out of things to talk about.”

  “Nope.” That w
as definitely true.

  “Does he like escorting?” she asked.

  “Not lately.” I smiled at the most recent story he shared.

  Aspen caught the grin. “Ooh…spill it.”

  “He escorted this girl to a wedding where her ex would be. They were there for about five minutes when her ex came at him in a bloody rage.”

  “Ohmygod. What happened?”

  “Troy busted his jaw.” I wish I could have seen it.

  “Yikes…”

  “He didn’t get a scratch but he can’t afford it. He says his face is too pretty.”

  “That could have turned out worse,” she said. “Good thing it didn’t.”

  “We’re all trained in some form of self-defense. I know some martial arts but my specialty is boxing.”

  “Why am I not surprised?”

  “You should try it,” I said. “I know a lot of girls who do kickboxing. They enjoy it.”

  “My pepper spray and keys will suffice.”

  I held up my hands. “I know not to mess with you…”

  She kicked me playfully under the table. Her calf brushed against mine and it was soothing more than anything else. Then she pulled back and gave me a warning look.

  “You taught me a lesson,” I said sarcastically.

  “There’s more where that came from.”

  Aspen’s playful attitude was refreshing. Our meeting didn’t feel like a date at all. It felt like we were friends, and we’d been friends for a very long time.

  “I’m ready whenever you are.” She stacked our cups on top of each other.

  I stood up then tossed our trash in the garbage. “We should get out of here before we order another round.”

  “The guy behind the counter would judge us.”

  “I’m pretty sure he already judged you,” I teased.

  She nudged me in the side.

  I laughed then rubbed my ribs like she actually hurt me.

  We walked back to her apartment, both of us walking particularly slow. I wasn’t in a hurry for the night to end and she seemed to feel the same way.

  When she crossed her arms over her chest and rubbed her biceps, I knew the nighttime chill had gotten to her. I removed my jacket then placed it over her shoulders. It blanketed her like a trench coat.

  “Thank you.” She pulled it closer around her.