CON MAN

by T. Torrest

  In that moment, everything became crystal clear. I’d been dancing around my feelings for this woman for weeks, trying to work every angle to get her to fall for me without ever crossing any lines.

  But screw it. Mia was right. It was finally time to cross the big one.

  I needed to roll the dice. Take the chance. Make the play.

  I had to tell her.

  Now.

  “Ainsley?”

  We both looked up at the sound of a male voice, and there, standing on the sidewalk in front of us—with the worst goddamned timing in the world—was none other than... Blake Atwood.

  “Blake!” she said in surprise. Her eyes immediately went wide at the unexpected sight of her crush standing in front of her.

  But then, almost as quickly, her training kicked in.

  My jaw gaped as the expression on her face relaxed into a flirty, seductive glare. I’d been on the receiving end of that look a few times over the past weeks, and from the shock on Atwood’s face, I could tell I wasn’t the only one who lost my shit at having it aimed in my direction. She put a hand to her hip and slithered, “It’s been a while, huh? You look great.”

  Atwood did a double-take, trying to figure out what the hell was happening. “Wow, Ainsley… You look… different.”

  “I hope that’s a good thing,” she shot back, not missing a beat.

  Her eyelids lowered expertly. Her coy smile was delivered perfectly.

  Atwood was tongue-tied as he looked her up and down, completely lost in his quest for the most appropriate way to respond.

  Don’t ask me why, but I bailed the bastard out. “Hi, I’m Luke Taggart,” I offered, holding out my hand.

  I don’t even think Atwood was aware that I was standing here until now. He blinked a couple times in my direction before meeting his hand with mine. “Blake Atwood. Nice to meet you.”

  He looked from me to Ainsley and then back again, trying to gauge whether or not we were a couple, the unspoken question playing out across his face.

  Ainsley answered it. “Oh, Luke is my...” she aimed pleading eyes in my direction before inspiration struck. “Luke is my friend from Botany Club! We just had a floral arrangement lesson.”

  Floral arrangement lesson? Yeah, great save there, Ains. Now I look suuuper cool.

  Atwood aimed a toothy grin at her. “You and your flowers, Ainsley. You haven’t changed one bit.”

  “Oh, I think you’d be surprised,” she shot back, striking just the right note. Jesus. It was torture having to watch her direct all that cultivated sex appeal toward another guy. My own creation was going to be the death of me. “Maybe we should go out and discuss it. Are you free for lunch?”

  Free for lunch? She was already asking him out? Fuck! Don’t say yes, Atwood. Do NOT say yes. Do. Not. Say—

  “Yes, as it so happens, I believe I am,” he answered, a bit too cat-who-ate-the-canary for my taste. “In fact, I know the perfect place. My driver is parked right around the corner.” He raised an eyebrow at me to add, “Lou, will you be joining us?”

  Well, didn’t I feel like the third wheel. How the fuck did that happen? I was looking forward to spending the day with Ainsley, but by the pleading look on her face, I could tell that she was silently imploring me to let her bail.

  The invitation was only extended my way anyway because I was standing right there. It was the chivalrous thing to do, even if he and I were both well-aware it was an unvitation. But if I was going to return the gentlemanly gesture, the only choice on the table was to decline.

  I knew this.

  So did Atwood.

  In fact, it looked like he was counting on it.

  Just because my brain knew the right thing to do didn’t mean my fist wasn’t just itching to bury itself in this guy’s smarmy face. It was so unfair. I fell for Ainsley even before she turned into the sex kitten standing before him today. Hell, I was the guy that turned her into one! And now this pretentious goon was going to reap the benefits?

  This. Totally. Blows.

  “Actually,” I said, sounding more agreeable than I felt, “I have somewhere I’m supposed to be and I’m already running late. Thanks for the offer, though. Pleasure meeting you.” I held out my hand and Atwood shook it as Ainsley bit her lip, trying to hide her grin.

  “I’ll call you later,” she said.

  “Yes. Yes you will,” I practically warned.

  I was numb with shock as she kissed me on the cheek.

  It was the first “intimate” contact between us.

  And I felt nothing.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  I kept Mia company while she was imprisoned under the hair dryer. I hadn’t originally planned to spend my entire day at the salon, but I couldn’t do another minute alone in my house. I hadn’t heard from Ainsley since Blake Cocksplat Atwood whisked her away for their little lunch date yesterday, and it was driving me fucking insane, waiting to talk to her about it.

  Hanging out with Mia was a good distraction. And thankfully, her mood from the other day seemed to have dissipated. The two of us had returned to a semblance of normalcy over the course of our morning, so much so that she was back to her old, bossy self.

  “Hey, Luke? Can I bother you to grab me a magazine or something?”

  She’d just gotten her highlights done, so her hair was wrapped in foil spikes that stuck out in all directions over her head. She looked like a hot, female Hellraiser.

  “Yeah, sure. Which one do you want?”

  “I don’t care. Something with a celebrity on the cover. I need to catch up on my gossip.”

  I went over to the magazine rack and scanned the available titles. I bypassed People and Entertainment Weekly in my quest to find something a bit more tawdry... Aha! I pulled down a copy of The Backlot, then delivered it to Mia along with a cup of water.

  “Oooh! A rag mag! Thanks!”

  I shook my head as I snickered, “I figured that one was right up your alley.”

  She lowered the magazine and met my eyes. “Well, how else am I expected to find out which Kardashians are fighting this week?”

  I didn’t get a chance to bust her chops about it, because just then, my phone started buzzing. I pulled it from my pocket and checked the number.

  Ainsley.

  I don’t even think I excused myself before darting out the side door to answer it. “Hey.”

  “Hi Luke!”

  Christ. The blissful sound of her voice almost killed me. “I was wondering when I’d hear from you.”

  “I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch. Blake and I…”

  Blake and I. Shit. I didn’t need to hear the details. “So, I guess things went well yesterday.”

  “Very,” she sighed, and the sound tore right through my fucking chest. “You would have been so proud of me. Things went so well at lunch that we wound up having dinner, too.”

  “That’s… great. Truly, Ainsley. This is fantastic news.” Not. “So, you landed your man.”

  “I did. Thanks to you.”

  Yeah. Thanks to me. Jackass that I am.

  “Oh, no. You did this all on your own.”

  “Yes, but I never would have had the confidence to open my mouth in his direction, much less flirt with him in the first place if it weren’t for everything you’ve taught me. Even if I could have, I would have been lost during any further conversation. Talking with him now is… practically effortless!”

  “Wow, great. That’s really... you know... great.”

  Say ‘great’ again, dickhead.

  “He’s coming by any minute to take me out again today. I almost can’t believe that this is really happening.”

  Me either.

  “That’s awesome, Ainsley. I’m really, really happy for you.”

  I’m really, really full of shit.

  “So, I guess I just didn’t want you to wonder about me when I didn’t show up tomorrow.”

  I’d been so caught up in my own pity-party that it took an extra seco
nd before I could register what she’d just said. “Wait. What? What do you mean?”

  “Blake was supposed to go to Syracuse on some business yesterday. When he ran into me, he postponed the trip until today. He asked me to go with him. I guess I’m trying to say that I won’t be able to finish Week Eight.”

  Shit. There it was.

  I’d been hoping that things wouldn’t go so hot yesterday, but obviously, I was kidding myself. Things between those two were apparently progressing at an alarming rate, because he’d already asked her to go away with him. Yeah, okay, fine, it was only upstate New York, but still. I fucking created this femme fatale and now she was going to be turning all that charm and seductiveness on some other guy? You’re welcome, Atwood.

  “So I guess this is goodbye then, huh,” I stated. There was no reason to question what was happening here.

  “Yes. Well, hopefully not forever. I’d like us to keep in touch.”

  Sure, pal. Maybe I can help you plan the wedding. Hell, why not lop off my balls and throw me in a bridesmaid dress while you’re at it?

  There was an awkward pause between us as I tried to come up with the right thing to say. I’m in love with you. Don’t go. But instead, I wimped out and wrapped up the conversation. “Yeah, of course. I guess until then... Good luck.”

  “Thanks, Luke. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  I stared at the phone as if it were an alien object in my hand. The time log showed that our conversation had taken three minutes and forty seconds. Just a little under four minutes for my entire life to implode.

  Record time.

  I shoved my phone back into my pocket and went back to Mia, still stuck under the hair dryer.

  “Your other woman?” she snarked.

  “Yep. But she’s not mine anymore. She decided to drop out in her final week of training.”

  Her jaw dropped. “What? Why? This is the fun part!”

  I shrugged. “Guess she already got what she came for.”

  “Huh?”

  “Blake took the bait.”

  If I didn’t know any better, I’d almost say it looked as though she were trying to hide her elation. “Oh, man. Are you okay?”

  No. I’d been trying to focus on the pride of a job well done. I’d given Ainsley the skills and the confidence to put herself out into the world and land her successful, boring, dream man. Hell. Maybe they’d get married and have eleven kids. Maybe they’d live happily ever after. She would never have any reason to challenge him and he would never find the need to question her devotion to him.

  I wish I could say I was totally fine about it. But damn. It really stung.

  “No, Cruz. I don’t think I am.”

  * * *

  I had to suck it up and pull myself together in order to make it through our dinner date. Mia and I had settled on Ocean as the venue for her to show off her makeover, and yeah, thanks for the reminder, but I was already all too aware that this restaurant was the very place where I’d first laid eyes on Ainsley.

  Super choice. Great thinking.

  Neither one of us was in the mood for a full meal, so we grabbed a high-profile table near the bar figuring we’d be satisfied enough ordering off the apps menu.

  Mia was really feeling her new look. Her jet black hair had been streaked with some chocolate highlights before being cut in long layers, and the thick curls fell over her shoulder in an alluring cascade. The real kicker, however, was her outfit. She was wearing a knockout red dress with a plunging neckline that suited her so well, it seemed as if it had been designed just for her.

  But even the prospect of all-night-cleavage wasn’t enough to jog me out of my mood. I ordered our food and downed a few drinks and tried to keep up my end of the conversation. My head was in a fog, and I was merely going through the motions of a pleasant night out.

  Mia noticed.

  “How’s the tartare?” she asked, eyeing up my plate.

  The tartare was the most famous item on Ocean’s menu. I suppose I should have been paying more attention to it, but I don’t think I took more than a single bite. “Good, I guess. Want some?”

  “No thanks. I’m still working on my conch.” I think I grunted in response, causing Mia to continue the conversation without me. “How is it, Mia? Oh, really good, Luke. Thanks for asking.”

  I smiled in spite of myself. “Sorry. I guess I’m not such a great date tonight.”

  I was thinking that she’d understand and let my comment lie when instead, she placed her hands on the table and stared me down. “Alright, Taggart. Enough, already. You really need to stop moping about it.”

  “I’m trying.”

  “No, you’re not trying at all. You never did.”

  I lowered a brow at her leading statement. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “You never tried! You never put yourself out there to Paisley.”

  “Ainsley!”

  “Who gives a shit!” She sighed as she swiped a hand over her hair. “You know, I was willing to sit back and let you try to win your trophy. I thought it was what you wanted, so all I wanted was to see you happy. But now I know I was wrong. I should have stepped in sooner and stopped you.”

  “Stopped me from what?”

  “From making a huge mistake.”

  I snickered bitterly as I shot back, “I’ve made a whole lot more mistakes than just one.”

  “The point is, you never told her how you felt. And now you’re going to mope around forever because she didn’t love you back?”

  “It just happened, okay? It’s still raw. You don’t know what I’m going through. You don’t know what it’s like to be in love with someone who chooses someone else.”

  “Don’t I?” Her squinted eyes met mine in a hard stare, but she didn’t elaborate. “And for the record, you never loved her anyway.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You never loved her. You were infatuated with her. Lust isn’t love.”

  The look on my face was bordering on sneer. “I find it really interesting that you think you can tell me how I feel.”

  “I don’t think it. I know it. I know you better than you know yourself, Luke. You’re conceited and kind, frustrating and fun. Your heart is usually in the right place but your dick is always pointed in the wrong direction. And the thing is, if you weren’t so busy chasing after your dream girl, you would have been able to see what was right in front of you this whole time. Because that’s the thing. Dreams are only that. They’re not real.”

  I was so tangled in my own gloom, I couldn’t decipher where she was going with her diatribe. “Way to kick a guy when he’s down, Mia. Can’t you see I’m miserable about this? Why are you trying to twist the knife? Why are you getting so pissy about this?”

  “Because, estúpido, I’m here! I’m real! And I like you, you pendejo!”

  “Pen day ho?”

  “ASSHOLE!”

  My jaw practically dropped to the floor. No need to start hurling insults, pal. “Whoa. I like you too. What’s the problem?

  Her brows scrunched before her eyes broke from mine. “The problem is that I think I... I more you.”

  “You more me?”

  “Yeah. And it kinda sucks that you don’t more me back.”

  Whoa. Where the hell was this coming from? Mia and I were friends. That’s it. Nothing more.

  I didn’t know what I was supposed to say, and just stared at her, speechless.

  Mia took one look at the stupid confusion on my face and said, “Just forget it. Forget I even said anything. I’m going home.”

  WEEK EIGHT: INTROSPECTION

  Therapy

  Final task

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  I lay in bed that night, unable to turn my brain off.

  Too much had happened over the course of the past twenty-four hours. In just one short day, I’d been ditched by Ainsley for another guy, turned into a heartbroken wuss, and got drawn into a fig
ht with—well hell, let’s just call her out for what she is—my closest friend.

  Mostly, though, I was thinking about Mia.

  I couldn’t understand where her anger was coming from. She was acting more like a jealous girlfriend than simply a girl friend.

  Because she mores me.

  That little nugget was a bit of a surprise. When did she start having feelings for me? If I’m going to be honest, I have to admit that yeah, of course we’d had our moments. That kiss was fucking hot. Even before then, I’d found myself attracted to her a time or two, but it didn’t mean anything. She was just, you know, like a great person or whatever.

  I mean, it’s not like I could be immune to her existence. It’s not like I couldn’t see how awesome she was. Mia was a blast to hang out with and she had an incredible sense of humor. She was sweet and attentive, bossy and wisecracking. She was gorgeous, obviously, even before the new hair and makeup, but it was her personality that made her truly beautiful. The way she carried herself. Her sexy brown eyes. The seductive way she danced. Her sultry grin.

  Of course I noticed those things. How could I not?

  She’d become my salvation in the past weeks. I was grateful to have her in my life. There were a few times when I’d open my appointment book, see her name on my schedule, and smile like a total dork, excited to know I was going to see her that day.

  But just because I looked forward to being with her, and we had a great time whenever we were together, and I trusted her above anyone else, and she was funny and beautiful and totally fucking amazing in every single way...

  Wait.

  I sat up in my bed, my pulse racing. I put my hands to my head and gave a shake to my skull, physically attempting to knock some sense into my brain. But it was too late.

  The revelation hit me hard, a sledgehammer to the face.

  I leapt out of bed and paced the floor, feeling my entire world tilt on its axis.

  Mia was right. I never loved Ainsley. How could I claim to love someone who had me overthinking every single second in her presence? I always had to be on around her, measure my every word, watch my every move. I was a babbling, stammering toolbag around her, never myself, never at ease... and why? Because she was pretty? We had nothing in common beyond that one, superficial trait. No wonder she wasn’t into me. I was full of shit.