“I’m very disappointed.” Sam cradled his beer mug and hunched his back, almost like he’d aged ten years. “I don’t understand why you would sell yourself.”
Nick hated how much he’d upset his brother. Heck, he’d be upset too if his younger brother were involved in something like this.
“I thought it was fun, at first, and the money was a big bonus. But each time I did it, I lost a chunk of my soul.” Nick wiped the sweat from his forehead. “I don’t even know who I am anymore. This weekend, I tried to convince myself I was normal, that I was a normal guy dating a wonderful woman. But I screwed everything up there, too. I had this agreement with Brianna to take her out Friday night, and it just so happens Carol asked me to take her to the Bumblebees Christmas Gala. I couldn’t say yes immediately, and she got upset.”
“Did you lead her to think she had a right to be upset?” Sam plowed his fingers through his thick hair and huffed a stale breath. “You didn’t sleep with her, did you?”
Nick could only stare at the foam in his beer glass. This conversation was getting too uncomfortable. He wasn’t used to sharing any of his sex life with anyone.
Sam thumped his mug on the bar top. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with her, and you know how women are. They think if you’re sleeping with them, then they must mean something to you.”
“She means the world to me,” Nick blurted. Pain lanced his heart and he closed his eyes. “Except once she finds out I’m a whore, she’ll turn her back on me.”
“You have to tell her first. Got it?” Sam leaned toward him and gripped his arm. “Take the air out of it, just like you told me. If Brianna ever comes to me, I’ll be prepared. In fact, I’ll put the fear of the law into her. Hiring a prostitute is illegal. But truthfully, there’s no proof you traded sex for money. Like you said, mutually consenting adults.”
“So she doesn’t have a leg to stand on?”
“She doesn’t, except for the damage she can do to Carol.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. Carol will never understand.” Nick held his head in his hands.
“You have to let the chips fall where they land.”
Nick downed the rest of the beer and took a deep breath. “She’s so important to me.”
“Let’s go home.” Sam hooked his elbow around Nick’s neck. “I ought to beat the crap out of you.”
“You’re not going to believe who hired you,” Heather said as soon as Nick and Sam walked into the apartment. “I just got off the phone with my brother.”
“I don’t want to know.” Nick waved his hand. “I told Rex I quit. He can’t force me to go for any amount of money. All I want to do is set things straight with Carol and hope she’ll understand.”
“It’s Carol,” Heather said. “She’s the one who hired you. She wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
“Carol?” Nick felt all the blood drain from his head. “Why would Carol hire me?”
“I’m wondering, too.” Heather looked puzzled. “I thought you liked each other.”
He thought so too, but then Carol had to go pull a stunt like this. Did she think that he’d change his schedule because of the money?
“This makes no sense, but it pisses me off.” Nick clenched his fist and stomped around the room. “I told her this morning I was busy Friday evening, so she takes it upon herself to hire me? I was going to cancel the other obligation I had and go with her. She didn’t have to hire me.”
Sam blew out a long whistle. “Now you know how it really feels to be the hired hand.”
“Shut it, bro. Maybe this entire thing was a game for her. I spent the weekend with her. I thought we were dating, and then she finds out I’m not free Friday evening and she decides to buy out the store?”
It did make sense. Nick didn’t want to admit it to his brother or sister-in-law, but Carol could be using him to see if she could have an orgasm. Word must have gotten around that he was good at getting women to come. Not only was he attentive, but he was skillful and worth all the Benjamin Franklins he’d been tipped with.
Rex had mentioned the client was a good tipper. He just hadn’t mentioned her name—his usual modus operandi was to get an agreement first before divulging the client’s identity.
“How’d you get Rex to tell you who she was?” Nick didn’t really care for the answer, but he had to distract his sister-in-law from figuring out that Carol thought of him as nothing but a whore.
“Oh, I pretty much made a wild guess.” Heather bobbed her head, taking all the credit for her brilliance. “I kept pestering him until he said it was the same woman who’d hired you to play Santa for the Bumblebee Toy Drive.”
“What a mess.” Sam grunted and headed for the kitchen. “I’m hungry.”
“Yeah, let’s eat,” Heather agreed. She maneuvered her electric wheelchair after Sam. “I have a casserole in the lower oven. Can you pull it out?”
Nick took his phone out of his pocket and went to his bedroom to call Rex.
“Heather told me who the client is, and you can’t take her money,” Nick said once he got Rex on the line.
“I told her you accepted already,” Rex said. “It’s a large sum of money.”
“You can’t take it. Did Heather tell you she’s the woman I spent the weekend with?”
“Must have been some weekend.” Rex whistled. “She’s paying a prince’s ransom for you.”
“I’m not for sale. I’m not doing any more personal training, escort, or entertainment. I’m done.”
“You’re unemployed,” Rex pointed out.
“Doesn’t matter. I don’t want Carol’s money. You have to call her back or find someone else to escort her.”
“I do have a request for a Santa Claus Friday night. It doesn’t pay as much, but it’s for the same event. How about you do that one? The job is to hand out gifts to all the donors.”
“I’ll take it.” He did need the money, and he also needed an excuse to bail out on Brianna. Maybe she’d let it go once she realized he wasn’t taking any woman out. After all, how could she say “no” to Santa?
“Right. I’ll process the refund then. I thought the woman was crazy to offer so much, but then again, you seem to have a way with clients. Best of luck!”
“Yeah, thanks.” Nick hung up. He was back playing the old fat man. It was all he deserved.
He’d played the whore one too many times, and now he was being treated as one.
No wonder she never said a word when he’d mentioned the “L” word. She was only sampling the goods and deciding how much she’d pay to keep him.
Thirty-Five
The days leading up to the Christmas Gala were pure agony. More than once, Carol wished she could disappear into a hole and never see the light of day again. Nothing gave her pleasure, and she couldn’t get into the Christmas spirit. Even going to Jenna Hart’s design studio for the final fitting of her exquisite evening gown was a drag, although she hoped she’d hidden it well with her fake smiles and phony peppiness.
Rex had called back and told her that Nick was no longer available. He’d offered replacements, but Carol hadn’t wanted any of them, so at the end, he’d refunded her the money.
Meanwhile, Nick never returned her text thanking him for the flowers. He seemed to have forgotten all about her. Either that, or he was busy preparing for that previous engagement he had with a filthy rich woman who had probably outbid her.
Carol rolled herself to the table at the Redwood Hills Country Club where the Bumblebees were having their pre-event lunch meeting. It would be a dry run of the evening, and Carol would rehearse her keynote speech in front of her friends.
All her friends had their heads together, whispering to each other, but as soon as she appeared at the table, they clammed up and gave her tight smiles.
She nodded her greeting and wheeled herself to the end of the table, watching them resume their chitter chatter.
Who was she to think she belonged with them? They had all bee
n childhood friends. They had danced together since preschool. They were beautiful, gorgeous professional women. They all had dates to the Christmas Gala.
And they’d better not rib her for being dateless.
Nikki stood and called the meeting to order. “Okay, girls. This is it! Tonight’s the big night. Carol, do you have the minutes from the last meeting?”
“I, uh, Sherelle has them,” Carol muttered and looked down at the soup the server placed in front of her.
“As I recall, we had an action item to hire a Santa Claus,” Sherelle said. “Terri, have you done that?”
“I left it up to Rex. Remember we agreed that whoever he chose would be good?” Terri’s booming voice only served to jolt Carol’s memories back to Nick and the fact that she’d blackballed him by claiming he was stalking her.
“Did he also provide an elf?” Nikki asked, since Carol had let Nikki know before the meeting that she and Nick were no longer doing the Santa and Elf act, much less going to the Gala together.
“I don’t think we need an elf,” Terri said. “We’ve already wrapped all the presents and put name tags on them with the table markings, so it’ll be an easy job for the Santa to grab a bag for each table and pass out the gifts.”
“Good. Glad that’s settled. Leanna, are you going to move the cakes in this afternoon?”
“You bet,” Leanna replied. “We’ll build up the layers onsite to make sure everything’s stable and looks as much like a Christmas tree as possible.”
Nikki went around the table, asking for updates from the caterer, the florist, and the event photography. Everything was in order. Everything except for Carol’s heart.
“Carol, are you ready to do the dry run of your speech?” Nikki asked gently, coming to her side.
“I’ve got it.” Carol snapped her chin up and sat as straight as she could. Whatever happened, she needed to be grateful for all the donors and represent Wheelympics well.
She’d had months of practice, putting on a brave face and overcoming obstacles: including depression, grief, physical therapy, and pain—lots and lots of pain, some of it phantom, but all of it real. So her heart was broken, so what? She’d power through it, just like she’d done when she realized she would live the rest of her life as a paraplegic.
Carol’s voice projected well without any quavering or cracking. She looked proudly at the empty tables and chairs, visualizing them filled with donors. She focused on individual chairs, wheeling herself around the room, as she gave her spiel on how adaptive sports gave meaning and life to people who used wheelchairs. She waxed eloquently about children and how important it was to build their self-esteem. Through it all, she felt like a phony, but when her friends clapped and cheered enthusiastically, at that moment, she knew she was a winner.
Nick or no Nick, she was a valuable and worthwhile human being.
She raised her fist and shook it as a sign of strength and let her happiness radiate out in a genuine smile.
“I thank each and every one of you here tonight. Your support of our cause touches my heart deeply, and I know it will change many young lives. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for supporting Wheelympics and honoring us with your presence.”
“Great job!” Nikki said, patting Carol on the back. “I love the way you rolled around the room speaking to all the tables.”
“It’ll be harder tonight once the chairs are filled with real people,” Carol said. “But I think we’re going to pull off a real fun event.”
“It will be,” Nikki said. “Okay, after Carol’s speech, I will present awards to the children. Then we will have the gift exchange. We won’t have to do anything for that. The Santa Claus will do all the work. After that, cake and coffee will be served, and people can mingle, moving around between tables. We’ll have the band play Christmas songs, and then we’ll dance the night away.”
“It’s going to be a great event,” Terri said. “I have my teams ready to decorate right after lunch.”
“And my cooks are cooking as we speak,” Sherelle said.
“Great. We have one last order of business,” Nikki said. “Marisa helped us wrap all the donor gifts and tag them. She’s also been working out with our dance routines and of course, she’s Carol’s sister. I propose we vote her into the club.”
“I second that.” Leanna raised her hand.
“Carol, do you have anything to say?” Nikki directed the attention at her.
“Marisa’s great. I’m glad we’re going to include her.” Sure, her sister could be an extreme busybody and she didn’t always say the right things, but she had a good heart.
After Marisa was easily voted in, Nikki looked around the table. “Looks like we have it covered. Let’s eat lunch and I’ll see you all back here around seven. We should meet out front and take pictures together.”
“Bumblebees buzz!” Everyone, except Carol, flapped their hands and wiggled their butts, laughing and having a jolly good time.
Carol wanted the day to be over with. She’d spend Christmas alone, just like she’d planned, with a tree to remind her of all she’d lost. Oh, and all of her Christmas movies. That was what she would do. Have a Christmas movie marathon and drink herself into a stupor.
Ho, ho, ho. What a Merry Christmas she would have.
That afternoon, Carol and Marisa put on their evening gowns and preened and primped in front of the mirror. Jolie came over and did her makeup, and Carol had to admit she looked dazzling.
If only Nick could see her now.
It was really too bad that he’d dropped her so easily. Maybe he didn’t care, or all his words were false, but how could it have seemed so real?
He’d said he loved her. It had felt real when he’d said it, not casually, with his voice catching as he held her so tight, she thought she’d break.
All the magical sensations washed over her again, and she could hardly catch her breath. How could she miss him so much? Miss him more than she missed walking.
Because maybe it had been real. And if so, she’d screwed up badly by assuming he’d been hired to pay attention to her. She’d hinted at it to her brother, her sister, and even when she’d spoken to her mother on the phone. No one seemed to have shown any interest in whether she was dating or enjoying herself with a guy or not.
In fact, Ken and Jolie had studiously avoided the subject of Nick ever since they found out she’d asked Nick to the party and he’d rejected her.
She’d have to be strong. Stronger than she’d ever been before. Maybe it was worth one last friendly text message. Yellow roses meant friendship, and maybe someday, when the pain wasn’t so sharp and present, they could be friends again.
Before she could stop herself, she texted a picture of herself in her evening gown to Nick with the message, Getting ready for my speech tonight.
He had to know what he was missing. She, Carol Cassidy, was no loser in a wheelchair. She was a mover and a shaker, and tonight, she was the keynote speaker.
A few seconds later, he texted her back.
Go get them.
Somehow those words made her ache anew, bringing dampness to her eyes. He believed in her. He’d always believed in her and her abilities. She thought back to the time she raced him on the track and left him in the dust, and how she’d shown him how she lifted weights.
He could have been the perfect man for her, but face it, she was the jealous type, and she wouldn’t tolerate sharing. She deserved a man of her own just like any able-bodied woman, and if he thought he was doing her a favor, she didn’t need him.
She stared into her phone at all the pictures they’d taken on their one glorious weekend together, swallowing a lump at how much she missed him. But she wasn’t going to be pathetic and ask him what he was doing. She wasn’t going to say she missed him. She would keep moving forward and live her life to the fullest.
“What are you looking at?” Marisa asked. “Are you almost ready? Nikki said the limo’s picking you up at seven. It’ll have a wheel
chair lift so you don’t have to transfer in and out of your chair and risk getting your dress messed up. It’s going to be a Hummer that raises and lowers itself.”
Carol quickly tucked her phone under her thigh and gave Marisa a close-mouthed smile. “I’m ready.”
“Yay!” Marissa jumped and clapped. One thing good about her—the woman was always enthusiastic.
“That’s awful nice of Nikki.” Carol decided to focus on the good things in her life. “Are you and Jason going to ride with me?”
“Is it okay with you?” Marisa’s big eyes resembled a puppy dog, eager to please.
“Yes, of course.” Carol reached up and gave her sister a hug. “Why would I want to sit in a limo all by myself?”
“Great. I’m off to Jason’s place, then, to get him ready.” Marisa gave Carol a peck on the cheek, then wiped her lipstick off with a tissue. “You’re so stunning, every man at the Gala will want to dance with you. Maybe you’ll catch yourself a billionaire.”
“Or one of those phony Bad Boys for Hire Billionaire lookalikes.” Carol laughed, fanning herself.
“I’ll see you at the party.” Jolie gave her a hug. She picked up her makeup kit. “Gotta go get myself ready now.”
“Are you going in the limo, too?” Carol asked.
“Yep, we will,” Jolie said as she let herself out. “They’ll pick us up at our place.”
Carol checked the time and took one last look at herself in the mirror before leaving her apartment.
The gown was beyond gorgeous. The black material provided a luxurious background to the sheer illusion material while the rivers of silver tubular beads shimmered alive with every movement, giving the effect of a cascading water wall of silver. One shoulder and arm was bare, showing off her well-toned muscles, and the other was covered with the beaded see-through material.
Tonight was going to be her night, Carol thought, and she was proud she was going stag. She alone had fallen off the mountain, and she alone would show the world she had adapted to a victorious life in a wheelchair.
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