Cara crawled forward and reached for my hand, but I jerked back, out of reach. I gave a warning glare. “Don’t touch me. I don’t want any more shit from you.”
“You have to believe me. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship for money or drugs.”
“But, alas, you did.”
She sat up on her haunches. “But I didn’t mean to.”
“Cara … It doesn’t matter what you intended. It matters what actually happened. And that, Cara, says everything about what we had.” I shook my head to myself rather than at her. “I have too much shit going on for this.”
I stood and opened my bedroom door. I cocked my head into the open space.
“Please, let me explain. We didn’t even do it for long.”
“It? You mean you didn’t even fuck my boyfriend for long so it’s not so bad?”
“No, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“If this is your explanation, I’m done hearing it. You’ve spent all this time saying everything and nothing. Where are we now? You were my best friend and you cheated with my boyfriend. Keep it all, I don’t want any of it.”
“If you’re talking about your dad, I heard—”
“No diverting. I don’t want your pity or your apologies. You and Justin are deader to me than he is. If all you need is money or drugs to cross me, I can’t have you in my life.”
“I came to help, Vee! It was such a shit time, and I had to get it off my chest. We were all bad with the drugs, and—”
“You were,” I corrected. “I only dabbled in them. I was never addicted or spiralling out of control.”
Cara averted my gaze and shuffled her hands in her laps. The awkwardness in her posture seemed like she had other things she wanted to say.
“Justin wasn’t any different to me. We used often but didn’t say anything to you. How could we? You were this happy little thing who liked to experiment, and we hardly loved it—we did it because we had to. We loved you, and we didn’t want you disappointed in us when you barely used recreationally, like you didn’t care for how hard it was to stop. Like you had some superhero strength we didn’t.
“I didn’t like Justin initially, but our feelings changed after all those times when we were high and you weren’t. He was like a drug too, and soon I was addicted to wanting him. He was the same with me. Call it attraction to the darkness in each other or some bullshit, but it was what it was.
“And in the end, we were the weak ones. He wanted me so badly that night, he outright offered money, new pills from a better supplier … I wasn’t thinking when I should have, and in that split second, we went for it. I just didn’t care.”
My world was spinning, and though I had the handle of my doorknob, it wasn’t enough to keep me upright. I gripped it, white-knuckled and thrust my hand to the wall on the opposite side in the opening to my room.
Anger coiled in my hands, and I heard the squeak from the shiny knob as I crunched my fist down harder than ever. I was past this. I didn’t care, and I’d moved on.
So why did I hurt so damn much to hear it?
I steeled my eyebrows, lowering them to match the ferocity in my glare. “Stop. Shut the fuck up. Leave now.”
I stormed up to Cara, grabbed her by her wrist, and yanked.
“Let go!”
“Then get out. Now. Can you understand that?”
Cara blew out a breath, strands of hair flying up from her face. She passed me wordlessly, and I listened to her storm out as Rick had, the front door slamming with her departure. I slammed my own bedroom door, and then flicked the lock before Mum could ask me questions.
9
WEDNESDAY, I WOKE by seven a.m. I slept in one big gulp. It was a long, deep rest, and when I came to, my eyes snapped open with renewed energy. I put on my work shirt and dark tracksuit pants for my early shift, hoping by the time I was done, it would still allow plenty of time to get into the right headspace before my first rental booking.
I emerged from the hallway pulling my hair into a low-slung ponytail since it was slightly oily. I’d wash it after my shift.
“Ah, sleeping beauty!”
My mum waved a knife “hello” as I appeared. That wasn’t so good.
“Are the meds messing with your head?”
“Nope. I just wanted to do something together. I know it’s only breakfast, and I can hardly hear or smell, but if you don’t die from salt overload or blandness, then we should be right.”
I stepped up to the bench and shooed Mum away. She plopped onto a stool while I shaved the fat off the last rasher of bacon and threw the bacon into the frying pan. I fried eggs too, and then laid them on the plates for us. We chomped them down, the clinking of utensils on the plates loud in our silence. We hadn’t sat down to eat breakfast—any meal, really—together in months, so I was smiling, which made swallowing hard.
“I’m glad we’re doing this,” Mum said, pushing away her empty plate afterward. “We’re so busy with our own things.” Her mood became sombre. “I abandoned you. You fell right into Rick’s hands because I wasn’t there, didn’t you?”
“Mum, it’s not like that. He was nice, and I already told you he did nothing wrong.”
“Call me a monkey’s uncle but I’m glad I’m rundown. Do you remember how you always got colds before your exams? Always. I was on full steam up until I walked in and saw that scene. Woke me right up. I love you, Vee—so much that I can’t even put it into words.
“Cara turning up last night wasn’t ideal, but I hope things will be better for your friendship.”
“Umm,” I trailed off.
No, we weren’t friends now and never would be again. Not that there was a chance before, but for fucking drugs! What best friend went weak at the knees and lost her mind so much so, she cheated with her best friend’s boyfriend? Now that Cara was gone from my life, I could look back to see what she really was—a For Now Friend. She was fun and great to hang with, but was never loyal enough to hang around forever. Why couldn’t I see that at the time?
“Yeah,” I said, to end that conversation.
“She wasn’t there for you at all after what happened, was she?”
I rested my fork and knife over my nearly done breakfast and pushed it out of the reach of my fidgety fingers. “Nope. We’ve been … strangers. It was a mess.”
“Can I throw in my old lady two cent’s worth?”
“I have an inkling you will anyway.”
She nudged my shoulder.
It was just a little gesture, but it made me think of Dad. Of the times on the couch with the three of us bumping shoulders. Sometimes it turned into a war, and we’d be like three kids trying to rock a boat over.
I wiped my fingers under my lids and swept away the beginning of tears.
“Everything is worth a resolution. No matter how hard it is. I think it was good she came last night. And I wasn’t silly. I knew you didn’t want to see her. I hope you’re not mad. I heard the tension, though not what you were saying—so don’t worry—and thought I’d give you a little push.”
“Mum! No, I can’t see your point. I wasn’t ready.”
“Would you ever have been?”
I didn’t want to lie to her. I crossed my arms and pouted.
“I’m not sure you can say yes. Look, hate me now, but a good night’s sleep is worth the pain and hardship of facing your issues.”
I perked up. “What did you say?”
“Facing your issues …”
“No, a good night’s sleep.”
“I’d rather you sort out your problems now, darling. It was just a figure of speech. For your life. About moving on and being at peace with your inner self.”
Mum smiled, kissed my forehead, and trudged off to her room. I, however, stared at the spot where she was, and wondered about that coincidence. Maybe I slept so well because I ended my own conflict with Cara.
I drove to the Leisure Centre with the music louder than usual. Mum’s admission and advice circled m
e endlessly, and it dredged up my admission to Rick the night I saw him at the bar when I told him to not mention Justin. Those types of thoughts had to be suppressed while I was busy with other things.
And the music? It emptied the worry in my mind—worry that weighed down on me like it was burying me alive in my own bed of lies.
• • •
THE WAITING ROOM was a little smaller than Amber’s office and a few doors down that corridor. For Rick’s arrival, I dressed in jeans, high heel boots, and a low-cut sweater with my hair down, behind my ears. I had showered and applied only mascara and blush. After our chat, I’d do it all up from head to toe.
Unlike Amber’s room, this one was nondescript, just these walls, me scratching the edge of the desk, and two chairs, one of them occupied with me. I was alone with my thoughts and the nerves that I took out on the desk for five minutes or so.
I was listening to the footsteps pass the closed door. As Rick approached, I had no hint it was him as the wall had no windows. It was just the medium-to-heavy clomp of his step and the long length of his strides that perked my attention to his arrival.
When he stepped in, the air flushed as if it were affected by his presence. I couldn’t name what shifted other than the feeling around me, but he seemed cool, collected, running his gaze over me in my chair appreciatively and turning to close us in alone with a deep click.
“Victoria, right?” he asked, and for a moment every system in my body froze. I wouldn’t survive if he shut me out as such this whole time. “I love the name but I might go with Vee, or little vixen, even.” He quirked an eyebrow at me. The expression shot sexy attitude straight to my eyes, and I returned with a soft smile and batting my eyelashes down toward his shirt. He knew how to wear a suit unlike most men who purchased a size too big. Rick filled out the tapered cut at his waist a touch shy of tight, and he had a couple of buttons undone, enough to spark the lusting woman in me.
He pulled up his dark slacks as he sat in his chair, a simple action that caught me right in the throat.
“Thanks for doing this,” I shot out quickly. It was one of the lines I’d practiced to say when he finally showed. It was so stiff.
“No worries.” He leant on his elbows, the shift in air filling my breath with his aftershave, so I cut my air supply off and tried again through my mouth. “I wanted to see you, Vee.”
“Me, too.” I crawled my hand out to breach the gap over the desk. It felt so far. My muscles tightened as he reached for me at the same time. His hands weren’t baby smooth, but the warmth he gave me from his touch was.
“I’d apologise for being bossy, but I wouldn’t mean it.”
“I’d apologise for being a little vixen,” I said, “but that would mean I regret what happened next, and I don’t regret all of it.”
“Which bit, Vee?” His voice was stern while his touch smoothed over the fleshy skin between my thumb and pointer finger.
“Your knee jerk reaction—or should I just say your jerk reaction.”
Rick swallowed hard and shifted his hips on his seat. He cleared his throat. “Tonight’s booking with Jimmy could likely involve some jerking action. Are you ready for that?”
“I suppose,” I answered in a soft tone. I cleared my throat, wanting to move the conversation back up a step. “But I do regret what happened later. Why did you take the fall for me? Mum still doesn’t quite believe it was mine.”
“Well,” Rick shrugged, “that makes sense.”
“Thank you. But I don’t want you fighting my battles.”
“I’m just providing the sword, Vee. Just providing the sword.”
I tried on a smile, but it fell right off into my lap. I stared there thinking about the many ways Rick probably meant ‘my battles’ and his ‘sword.’
“Rick, I’m not using you.”
“For my ‘sword?’” He grinned, but removed his hand from mine, and my grip flexed in and out, as if they were a pair of lungs, trying to breathe life. “It’s not really relevant, is it? I just have to stay away from you. Make sure you wear a scarf over your neck for the booking, and I’ll hardly bat an eyelid.”
I looked down. The sweater cut deep enough to expose my cleavage. Rick inspected it, but it didn’t feel like much of a reprimand; it didn’t affect me the way it should have. I licked my lips and dropped my gaze, but the desk was in the way of his lap.
“We’ll … act like distant friends here and you know, not hang around my house either or yours, and … meet somewhere else.”
I sounded shaky, stupid in my attempts to reduce our complicated status into boy meets girl. Rick and I wouldn’t have that luxury—we’d either be boy dates girl or boy fucks the brains out of girl. The way I imagined it, we could go out for dinner or a movie, or he’d have me alone in his car. It was romance or sex, but I didn’t want to pick one.
“We’ll discuss what Amber needs me to share with you, okay?” he said but didn’t pause for long, going into our ‘meeting’ in the next second.
He showed me the contract the typical client signed, and ran through images—rental and clients on dates and in rooms, the rooms varying from lounge-room-esque to sex dungeon, and women on arms at official events. He opened up a folder and we read through details about the company and how bookings worked.
He said, “Unless the client has been charged by the courts of law, going through proceedings, or convicted of an offense, you must accept them all. The Rental doesn’t discriminate. If checks pass them as a suitable client and pose no personal risk, and you don’t know them personally, you can’t cancel a booking unless you’re sick, injured, or cannot work for another serious reason.”
“Never?” I asked. “No other exceptions? Even if you feel awkward with them?”
“Does this look like the job for someone who’s worried about being awkward with a stranger?”
I nodded. “Good point.”
“It’s done for fairness, not to make the staff’s lives harder. People don’t come here unless they’re lonely and can’t find a partner, or want a stranger to keep them company for some other reason. Amber doesn’t want to discriminate if the clients are nothing but nice people.”
His professional, sure tone stumped me, and I mostly listened for the rest of our meeting. We talked right up until quarter past six. Rick pulled out his mobile phone to show me something on the internet when his eyes popped and he hurried me. He clutched the papers and folder under his arm, and escorted me out, leading me to a dressing room.
We stopped outside the same door I’d first gone into, where we’d shared our first kiss. I liked that I’d be stripping naked in the same space, though it wouldn’t matter. Rick wouldn’t physically be there, and I didn’t know when I’d run into him after this.
“You look beautiful,” he said, running his hand along my waist, hooking it at the small of my back. “You already look like a dream come true.”
• • •
I HADN’T NEEDED to do much, so the quarter hour loss of time didn’t affect my stress levels.
I pulled on a brown-haired wig that matched my profile, straightening it to hang loose over my spaghetti-strap aqua dress. The light material hugged my curves to mid-thigh. My hair swung forward like a curtain as I peered down to my nude pumps. It was a long, sexy way down there, and the nude shoe colour fooled my mind as to the true length of my legs.
When I checked the time, the wall clock read ten minutes to seven, and the confirmation of the impending booking thumped hard in my chest. I could see the semi-transparent reflection of my face on the glass clock face—dark eyes from the smoky look I created and defined red lips. The red was vivid, reminding me of what my lips might be doing soon.
Up until now, I imagined myself pretending the client was Rick, but I didn’t want to pretend Rick was anyone other than himself. What if instead Rick watched? How would he react? I’d watched a show with him and other girls and I wondered if forced to see it like I was if he’d enjoy or loathe what happened.<
br />
I took one last breath and then pulled the handle open. Rick was leant against the opposite wall, a knee bent, a shoe on the wall, and arms tightened around his chest. He sucked in a long breath, nostrils flaring.
If I worried about looking virginal and weird, I needn’t have been. It didn’t show up on his I-almost-just-came expression.
“What are you doing here?” I whispered, not knowing why I had lowered my voice.
“Walk you there?” he offered, but he seemed jumpy all of a sudden, unsure. I couldn’t pick if he was leading me there as my bodyguard or as my boyf— “Okay,” I said, cutting off my thoughts.
We rode the elevator up and found the corridor containing doors numbered 100-130. The carpet flowed along the floor in a cool charcoal colour, met by light and washed-out blue walls. The space felt larger than it was. Rick and I, side by side, felt wide enough apart to fit another body between our hands.
The plaque glued to the door of room 107 was outlined in silver leaf on black, the text printed in light silver. The door was mocking in its carbon copy replica of every other one we’d passed. It was different in every way, because I could be seducing another man, and I had no idea if there would be the possibility for that with the man next to me after it.
Rick looked deep into my eyes before I stepped forward to knock, hands shoved in his pockets. He must have become as flustered as I was during the walk over, because my eyes were drawn to his shirt, rolled to his elbows and the slight sheen on his chest in the triangle of skin where his two buttons were undone.
“Fuck it,” he growled and flipped me to the wall, shoving me into it.
I moaned into his mouth as he consumed my jaw, my neck, sucking and kissing all over. He met my mouth rapidly. The passion and speed in his movements was like he had to get it done now before other bodyguards wrenched him off me and led him away forever.
I felt the tsunami of fear and relinquished to it. I gave my body to his, pushing into him and encouraging his hips.
“You guys,” a man’s voice called.
Rick pulled his mouth back from me but remained attached at our hips, tight with want against my dress. The guy at our door was completely nude, and judging by his hard on, he’d started with his original rental before our arrival. He laid his forearm against the doorframe and looked us up and down.
The Rental Page 9
