by Lily Zante
“Sorry,” she replied in a quiet voice. The other waitress cut her a dirty look, then reeled off her order to the cook again and disappeared, leaving Zoe to clean up the mess on the floor.
Zoe fought back the tears that threatened to spill. It was no more than what she deserved—to feel so shitty. Nadine and Ethan so deserved to be together.
Who the hell was she to wish them anything else?
Warm tears trickled down her cheeks as she bent down, picking up the pieces of the broken plate.
She wiped her tears and took in a deep breath.
She was happy for them. Of course she was. Of course. She was. She just needed to get things together in her own life.
“Make it quick. We’re stretched to the max as it is.” Mr. Campbell barked at her, as he purposely walked all over the pancake mess she was trying to clear up.
Chapter 12
“She fired you? What did you do? I mean, it’s escorting. How wrong could you get it?”
Tyler opened his eyes and looked at Zoe fiddling about on her laptop. Her incredulous tone wasn’t completely lost on him. He hadn’t meant to be in her space at such a late hour. He’d come in earlier and fallen asleep on the couch. He looked at his watch: it was just after ten.
He’d woken up in Zoe’s territory and felt a sense of relief when he saw her. He felt the urge to talk this shit out with someone.
He thought back to his encounter earlier with Chrissie.
Screw her.
Screw the agency.
And screw Margaux Scott.
Only, he’d been sacked precisely because he hadn’t. Screwed Margaux Scott.
He’d met her last week for their weekly dinner and things had seemed normal—considering it was Margaux. Normal in that she hadn’t tried to be tactile. Normal in that she seemed her usual sweet self. Dinner had been remarkably easy to get through, and pleasant, surprisingly.
In the last week he’d had no more texts or calls from her either. Then Chrissie had delivered her bomb earlier today. “I run a respectable agency. The last thing I want is for people like you tainting my business. You’re fired, Tyler. I should have listened to the rumors from the start.”
When he’d ventured a “What rumors? Who?” She’d shot back a “Don’t take me for a fool. Margaux Scott—don’t go denying you overstepped the mark with her.”
“Nothing happened—I swear!”
“She told me.”
“She told you what, exactly?” He really wanted to know, but Chrissie gave him a stern frown and the thin line on her lips told him she wasn’t going to give much more away.
He wanted to clear his name, as best as he could. “Even if something had happened—which it didn’t—don’t you think as a grown woman she knew what she was doing?”
And that had been his mistake. Because Chrissie had taken that as an admission of his guilt. When really, he’d been thinking more about Bailey. Bailey would never have said a thing.
About their thing.
And then he wondered if she’d somehow said something to Margaux, but it didn’t make sense. Why would Bailey tell Margaux?
Could it be that Margaux Scott had sought her revenge on him all because he hadn’t put out? Chrissie had fired him believing Margaux’s word against his: that he’d slept with Margaux as well as a few other women. Chrissie hadn’t mentioned any other names, but Tyler felt sure that Bailey had also been outed by her “friend.”
As to the other “names” Tyler knew they were just lies. There were no other women with whom he had overstepped the mark.
He heard Zoe tapping away on her keyboard, seemingly more concerned with surfing the net than with what had just happened to him.
She sat on the other couch while he lay stretched out on her couch, the one she slept on. He stretched again and wondered how she managed to get a good night’s sleep. This thing was damned uncomfortable and there was hardly any space to spread out. He nursed his head in the fold of his arms, crossed behind his neck. Chrissie had dumped the news on him as he walked home after seeing Eugenie Wolferson. The woman had had him standing up for three hours, posing with nothing more on than an angry look. She’d painted him from behind.
He had a great butt. So he wasn’t too bothered about her seeing it. But standing up for so long almost killed him.
He was so tired when he got home that he’d fallen asleep on Zoe’s couch until she’d woken him up with a deliberate slam of the door. Come to think of it, she looked in a foul mood, too, he observed.
A muffled, “Shit,” escaped her lips.
“Bad day for you too?” He sat up and yawned.
“I’m waiting to hear back about something.” She glanced his way briefly, “So tell me again, how you managed to get sacked? What did you do—massage the wrong body part?”
Oh, yes, she’d obviously had a bad day. Come to think of it, that pancake place, if it was the one he thought it was, was a pretty busy place. Each time he’d gone there it was jam-packed. That was what happened when you made the best pancakes around.
He watched her watching him like a beady-eyed hawk. She looked pissed as hell, and if looks could kill he’d be fatally wounded by now.
“I slept with a client.” It was nothing to brag about, but he wanted, for some reason, to tell her.
Zoe narrowed her eyes. “I hope she paid you well.”
He nearly flinched, controlled it before she saw. “She paid so well, I slept with her twice.” What the hell did she take him for? He waited patiently, reading her face for further clues of her disapproval.
He assumed her opinion of him had nosedived further.
He wasn’t totally blameless in all this. He had done the very thing he should not have—he’d slept with a client. It didn’t matter if it was one client or multiple. That he had crossed the line once was bad enough.
Now on top of everything else, he was out of a job. Which meant paying the rent wasn’t such a dead cert anymore. Which meant if he wasn’t careful he could soon be out of here.
His hobby wasn’t going to provide the funds he needed. If he had to, if he really had no choice, he would need to crawl back to his father. But hell would have to freeze over first.
He got up. It was late and he was hungry. He cut her a foul look, hoped it would mirror the one she was giving him, and decided the kitchen would be safer to hide in.
“I forgot to tell you—I saw Ethan today, and Nadine. They’re engaged,” she announced.
He heard her slam the lid of her laptop shut. She placed her arms protectively over the thin, black machine.
Ethan engaged?
That would explain the sour look on her face. “No shit. He didn’t tell me that.” Tyler slammed a hand into his pocket and observed Zoe’s reaction. She’d most likely been in a dour mood ever since. At least he wasn’t completely to blame.
He ventured a smile, thinking about Ethan and how he’d managed to turn things around—got out of the escort business and got his artwork to sell. Things had a way of working out for that dude. Not that Nadine was anyone he’d fall for…much too uptight and snooty for him. And yet, he had to admit, they were good together. It must only have been a rough patch they’d gone through recently, because the last he’d heard from Ethan his girlfriend was off to Europe.
“I think it only happened recently.”
“Are they moving to Europe?” he asked, wondering if that was the deal.
Zoe raised her shoulders to say who knows, before adding, “He said he’ll come over sometime soon”.
Ethan was probably moving to Europe with Nadine, he assumed. He couldn’t see that woman changing her career plans for anyone. He hoped Ethan got used to letting her wear the trousers. It was either that or Ethan was going to move to her place. Either way, chances were good that Ethan wouldn’t need his room anymore.
Tyler’s heart tripped a beat. Which meant Zoe could now move in. Maybe having a levelheaded chick for a flat mate would be good for him—maybe she’d drum some se
nse into his head. Actually, come to think of it, he hadn’t hooked up with anyone lately. She was already having an effect on his nocturnal activities.
“Wanna go get drunk or something? Go to Rocco’s?” He waited for her answer. They’d both had a shitty day. And Rocco’s was great for fixing shitty days.
To his amazement, she put her laptop on the seat next to her.
“Sure, sounds great.” And she gave him a smile. A real smile.
Chapter 13
Four rounds of drinks in, she still seemed to hold it together. Tyler was impressed. Most girls he knew babbled pure gibberish after the third.
“So maybe you should sleep with your stalker in order to get your job back.”
Maybe she was starting to talk rubbish. He’d been updating her about his nuisance caller and explaining his theory that she had something to do with him getting fired.
He nudged Zoe’s arm away gently, before picking up his beer bottle. “Tell me again how that would work?”
She clutched her beer bottle and seemed to think twice about putting it to her lips. “If you do the dirty deed with her, you could then ask her to confess to your boss that she lied.”
“She did lie.”
“Of course she lied! But Chrissie doesn’t know that.” This time Zoe put the bottle to her mouth. “And it seems to me that whatever you say doesn’t matter, whatever Marge says does.”
Maybe she wasn’t so drunk; her logic had some semblance of sense to it. Marge. He liked the new name Zoe had given to Margaux. He shook his head and drank.
They sat high up on barstools along one side of the bar. Rocco’s was crowded, as it usually became around this time of night. A while back he’d often hang out here with the Dreamboys Dancers, when Billy, Troy, and Jed were the core dancers. He’d been only a minor player and he’d been the first to leave. Then Ethan had stepped in, for maybe all of one bachelorette party.
According to Billy, that was where Ethan had met Nadine. Tyler couldn’t imagine someone like Nadine being at a bachelorette party, much less surrounded by half-naked men doing their thing. That would have been one interesting event.
Not long after that, Billy had left too. Tyler wasn’t even sure the group was still running.
“Are the Dreamboys Dancers still around?”
Zoe rubbed her eyes. “No. Once Billy left, it kind of fell apart. Are you in touch with Troy or Jed? I know you still see Ethan.”
Tyler shook his head. He didn’t see Ethan that often. It was just that he’d bumped into him a few times. In fact, he had lost touch with all of the guys from the dance troupe once he’d left. It now felt strange that he was back in touch with Ethan and Zoe. All of a sudden, it felt as though things had come full circle again.
Perhaps it wasn’t so weird that he’d just left Chrissie’s agency.
“Do you have any friends?” she asked him, sounding cheeky.
“Just you.” He leaned in towards her, reached out for the bottle she was trying unsuccessfully to open.
She gave him a flirty wink, obviously feeling more spirited now. “What about your two sleepover pals?”
He narrowed his eyes and chose not to reply. ”Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”
She looked as though she had. “I don’t want to head home just yet. So, what about your friends?” He moved his head back, she wasn’t going to let this one go. “Were they a one-off? Do you really have a different girl every week?” Definitely feeling reckless and spirited, he concluded.
“What’s with the sudden interest?” He turned sideways on the stool so that they both sat facing each other, knees almost touching.
“You have a reputation, Tyler and I’m curious.”
His gaze lingered over her lips; they were definitely kissable, full and pouty on an otherwise delicate face. The more he stared at them, the more he wondered what it might be like to…
“What are you curious about?” He cocked his head and saw that her gaze locked onto his lips. She looked at him, her eyes were dark—he knew that look well—he knew what it always led to. And his heart hammered against his chest.
She shifted on her stool, leaning in towards him. “You’ve had no house guests lately. How come?”
He struggled to think, his brain only seeing her lips and eyes, and his senses tingling with the scent of roses and vanilla. Her scent. He cleared his throat, “I haven’t?” He couldn’t think of what to say, not when his gaze was fixed so firmly on her parted lips.
“Am I in the way—is that why?” She moved even closer, and he felt sure she could hear the drumbeat in his chest.
“No, you’re not in the way,” he replied, his voice hoarse.
When her knee grazed his inner thigh, he knew, without needing to look down, that they weren’t sitting knee to knee anymore.
And when he inhaled the sweet scent of vanilla once more, he felt his chest tighten. Did she know what she was doing? He could so easily lean in, and then what?
With great determination, he pulled away.
“We can stay here—or get something to eat. I’m hungry, aren’t you?” His heart still raced, and it was hard to look at the pained expression on her face, now that he’d moved away and killed that moment forever. He’d forgotten the chattering and laughter around them, or that the place was full of people.
For that moment it had just been him and Zoe.
“I’ve got some leftover pasta bake; you’re welcome to it,” she said in a quiet voice, then moved away and rubbed her arms as if she was cold.
He said nothing, but his mind raced with a flurry of questions. She made to grab the bottle from him, still unopened and this time he wasn’t about to wrestle with her.
“How about we share this?” He suggested. He didn’t remember her as someone who liked to drink so much. But tonight she seemed anxious to want to forget something.
Ethan’s engagement.
He didn’t want to be the rebound guy to help her forget. Not waiting for her answer, he grabbed a spare glass from the bartender and filled it to the brink. He handed her back the half empty bottle. Not that she noticed, she was too busy looking around, trying to look anywhere but at him.
She braved a smile, and moved back, turning her body so that she faced the bar again.
“What will you do for rent? I mean, now that you’ve lost the job?” Her tone implied disinterest, and he knew they’d crossed some line only briefly and now reverted back to their previous boundaries again.
“Worst case, I could always go and work for my dad. I’m supposed to be seeing him soon, maybe he has an offer for me.” He took a big gulp from his bottle, trying to forget the moment that could have ended differently. His father had threatened to pass by soon. Tyler dreaded the idea of meeting up with him.
“Daddy has a business? That’s what I call a fortuitous fallback plan.”
Tyler wasn’t in the mood to talk about it. “You could always get me a part-time job at your place.”
“You—waiting on people?” She scrunched up her nose. “But then again, I suppose you’ve done worse.”
He gave her an ugly stare, and she looked away.
Finally he asked her, “Did you hear back from that course?” He knew how much it meant to her.
She moved her shoulders noncommittally. “It’s too late now. It starts next week.”
“I’m sorry. That sucks.”
“I really wanted it.” Her brown eyes glistened and he felt drawn to her pain. “It would have been my chance to do something different—you know how when you really have your heart set on something? I thought this would be it.”
“Maybe there’s something else, something better than that course, waiting for you.” He tried to give her hope.
She shook her head forcefully. “Don’t you have anything you’re good at—or is it that you’re just good at looking good, in a vacuous kind of way?” She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
Gazing at her, he decided she had a very pretty face. O
ne he could easily stare at for hours, now that he had been staring at it for hours already. Even if she was still taking stabs at him.
“Is that what you think? I’m vacuous?”
“I didn’t say you were vacuous—” She seemed to look beyond him, as though she were thinking his words through.
“You implied it, in a roundabout way.”
“No, I’m just saying—that—” She stopped, seemed to be stuck. Or had drunk too much and couldn’t think straight. Right now he wasn’t sure which of the two it was. She perked up suddenly, “I mean, you have all these women who seem to want you to jump into bed with them. There’s Marge, who wants you but can’t have you. And then there’s the one woman you slept with. And you’re still friends with her, right? Sounds like you’re still in a relationship. Of sorts.”
Tyler’s lips twisted. He wished she would stop harping back to Bailey. “That’s technically not a relationship.”
“Well, a one-night stand then. And you’re still talking to her; you still see her. You’re still friends. That’s what you told me.”
He didn’t want her analyzing his work ethics, or lack of. “You and Billy—think you’ll get back together again?” He was interested in finding out. He felt a subtle need to know, felt he was getting to know her better and found it refreshing that they were able to have this conversation now, at all. He didn’t want to talk about Bailey.
Zoe made a face as though she’d drunk castor oil. “No. He’s a good friend. I’d like to think we could stay friends.”
“You can’t stay friends with someone you’ve dated.”
“Yeah, you can.”
“Not for long, you can’t.”
“I suppose you’d know all about that.” She seemed to think she knew all about him from his reputation. Was it really that bad? Because even though he might have been the kind of one-night stand guy in the past, and worked at the agency, he wasn’t really so bad; at least, he liked to think he wasn’t.
And Bailey, well, Bailey wasn’t a mistake. But a one-night stand. They were still friends. And Bailey was Bailey.
“What’s her name anyway?”
“Why does that matter?” he asked suspiciously.
