“Charlie. I’m your friend. I’m making it my business. That’s what friends do.” His voice softened and I had to look away from the concerned look he gave me. “Let me take you out.”
I flinched in surprise. That was not what I expected to hear. “Why?”
“Because I want to take you out. A date. A real date. Just give me that and then I’ll never hassle you again about your decision to leave. I’ll even help you pack.”
Hesitating, I took a deep breath before nodding. “One date.”
“Perfect. Friday. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“No,” I blurted out, “I’ll meet you at yours at seven.” There was no way I was getting stuck at his place without a means to escape. I hated feeling trapped and despite Ford’s protective nature, the last time I was at his house in the woods, the vulnerability I felt when I realized I was reliant on him to get out of there was overwhelming.
Warily, he nodded.
Whatever he had in mind was a mystery to me. I still couldn’t figure out why he even wanted to take me out on a date. After the abrupt conversation outside my door where I made it clear I wasn’t going to fall back into bad habits and become his booty call, we’d gone back to being friends. Or at least pretending to be friends. Every moment in his presence was difficult and I forced myself to stop reliving the moments we’d spent together. It didn’t do my heart any good.
The rest of the week flew by and I managed to avoid Ford most of the time. We only had two shifts together but he’d asked me to make some extra baked goods and I spent most of the time in the kitchen, away from him. At the end of my shift on Friday, I said good-bye and he reminded me to be at his promptly at seven. Okay, so he hadn’t forgotten. The whole thing felt weird and I tried to get rid of the nervous anxiety building inside me as I showered and prepped.
But by the time I found myself standing in front of his door, having made the long drive into the woods, the nerves were overwhelming. I had no idea where he was taking me but considering Ford’s taste for quality, I assumed it was somewhere fancy. Then again, I figured I should make any assumptions and for all I knew he was taking me to the local drive through and then sitting in car in a lay by. To play it safe, I’d chosen a little black shift dress that was short on my thighs but with a modest neck. Black heeled stiletto sandals wrapped around my feet and I wore my hair long and wavy. The whole look suited the subtle makeup pallet I’d chosen. It was more relaxed than my usual style, an indication of how off-kilter I felt by this whole date-thing.
I knocked and took a deep breath. Whatever happened tonight, whatever assumptions Ford had about me, I was free to do what I wanted. Would one more night in his arms really do me any harm? It was a chance to make some more memories with him before I took off and God knew I needed some good memories. There was always room for those in my mind.
The door swung open and in that moment, when my eyes met Ford’s I knew I was lying if I said I wouldn’t end up naked beneath him tonight. He wore a white dress shirt, open at the collar, with navy dress pants. Although Ford always tended to dress well, seeing him wearing something a bit more formal was a surprise. It suited him.
It was a look he’d been raised to wear well, exuding sophistication, wealth, and confidence. All things I didn’t have even when I tried. He extended his hand to take mine and gently pulled me close to him.
“You look beautiful, Charlie, as always.” He kissed my cheek and I couldn’t help but blush.
This felt so real.
It’s not real, you idiot.
Guiding me out of the house, he locked the door behind him before walking me to his car and opening the passenger side, taking my hand to help me in.
“I’d invite you in for a glass of wine first but our reservation is for 7:30.”
“Where are we going?” I couldn’t help but ask.
“Saranos. It’s a French restaurant I like.”
I hadn’t even heard of the place but why would I? French restaurants where people like Ford ate weren’t my regular hang out. With nothing to say, I smiled and subconsciously smoothed my dress over my thighs, praying I looked the part.
As we made our way through the woods, Ford glanced over at me.
“You look really lovely, Charlie.” I knew he was saying it to ease my nerves and I appreciated it but hated how I was so obvious. I didn’t want him to know how different we were. I flashed him a smile and then started asking him about his trip to South America I knew was coming up in a few months. He rambled on and by the time we arrived at the restaurant and he was helping me out of the car, I had my game face on and was ready to act like I belonged in a place like this. The fact there was valet parking was enough for me to know how upscale the restaurant was.
I even managed to keep it together when I opened the menu and realized I could barely understand what was written. Almost everything was written in French or at least cooking terms so Frenchified, I couldn’t even begin to decipher what was a starter and what was a main. When Ford offered to order for me, telling me he had a list of favorites he was sure I’d love, I readily agreed.
I didn’t even know food could taste like that. I mean, real food. I got lost in the taste of the goat cheese salad, the braised duck, sautéed forest mushrooms. It was endless. Ford kept the conversation flowing, and somehow I managed to relax and just enjoy it.
I was allowed to enjoy it. It didn’t mean anything.
Just a man and woman enjoying time together in a lovely setting with fantastic food. It wasn’t the norm for me but there was nothing stopping me from enjoying it all except my own limitations.
“I have a surprise for dessert,” Ford announced as our plates were taken away.
I lifted my eyebrows, “What kind of surprise?”
“Well, I pre-ordered their chocolate soufflé. The chef does this crazy thing with a hazelnut syrup. I can’t even begin to explain it but I know you’ll love. With your baking skills, you’ll probably have a better understanding of how he does it.”
I stared at him, touched by his thoughtful gesture. He’d really thought this whole thing through. “It feels so real,” I blurted out.
“What feels real?”
“This whole thing,” I gestured between us, “I mean, it’s like a real date.”
“You say that as if you’ve never been on one.”
“I haven’t.”
Way to go, Charlie.
Chapter Eleven
“What?” Ford’s mouth hung open in surprise and I giggled at how shocked he looked before remembering how utterly embarrassing my confession was.
“I’ve never been on a date like this, like in a real restaurant, that sort of thing.”
“But you’ve had dates?” The look of confusion was still plastered across his face.
“Yeah, I have dates but they don’t usually involve this. Maybe we’ll go to a movie, get some fast food, or just meet up in a bar. That sort of thing. I’ve never been taken out to a restaurant. I mean this is like out of a movie.” I took a sip from my wine glass. The look on Ford’s face has morphed into something else I didn’t like the look of.
Pity.
Was what I said so pathetic? Had I dreamed about being picked up and escorted out on a beautifully planned evening? Of course.
But the kind of men I tended to date didn’t do that sort of thing. Or as I had so cruelly learned from Greg all those months ago, they didn’t do that sort of thing with me. Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free? Hadn’t my whole ethos been about not needing all the frills and just wanting to connect?
Considering the look on Ford’s face, the fact I had never been taken out was pretty shocking.
“What about prom?”
I took another sip of wine. The question itself was an indication of how far apart our worlds were. But having already painted myself as pathetic I wasn’t about to tell him about my prom experience. Instead I gave him what he wanted to hear.
“Oh, my prom. That’s different
. It was amazing. I wore this dark blue chiffon dress. I’d seen the color in a magazine a few months earlier and I managed to save enough money to get a great knock off. Strapless, a thousand layers of chiffon. It made this beautiful rustling sound when I walked. Just perfect. My date picked me up in a limo and then at the end of the evening, instead of going to some after-party, he took me to his parents’ place in the woods. It had this huge deck out back,” I pictured Ford’s back deck and kept on elaborating, “he’d strung fairy lights through the trees and we danced the rest of the night away, just us two, in the dark night, just the lights to guide us. It was magical.” I sighed. It would have been magical. For some girl. Just not me.
I wasn’t even asked to prom. Girls like me didn’t get asked to prom. We got told where the after-parties were and then turned up for the free drinks. We were considered cheap entertainment, one step up from strippers. Enough free booze and we’d be there.
The only limo I saw that night was when I ended up in the back of Clay Stuart’s when I gave him a blowjob. And then he did not escort me home.
“Sure. Sounds magical.” His voice was flat and I couldn’t figure out what the problem was. He was the one who’d asked. I didn’t want hear about his other dates and romantic evenings.
The soufflé was amazing but we sat in silence as we ate it, my prom story having been a conversation killer in a way I didn’t understand. After our plates were taken away, I assumed we would go but again Ford stalled by ordering coffee. Why he was so determined to drag this night out, considering what a disaster it had turned into, was beyond me.
“So you’re still planning on leaving?”
“I thought you promised to be supportive about it if I went on this date with you?”
“I’m just confirming your position. It determines the relevance of what I’m about to ask.”
“That’s cryptic as hell, Ford. But yeah, I’m still leaving.” I placed my napkin on the table and sat up a bit straighter, sensing whatever he was about to say wasn’t going to make me happy.
“In that case I have a proposal for you. I’ll give you the money you need to start your business. Seventy thousand dollars. It’s more than you went to the bank for but I know how easy it is for a few wrong purchases to stall this sort of thing before it even gets on the road, and after having looked at your business proposal, the extra money will pretty much ensure a successful launch. On top of that I will pay off the small debt your step-sister has managed to accrue in order to start the process of rebuilding your credit rating. There are ideas I’d also like to talk to you about your marketing plan but we can discuss those later. After.”
My jaw fell open and I couldn’t figure out what he was saying. It didn’t make any sense.
“There is one stipulation.”
“Which is?” I managed to ask.
“You spend the weekend with me at my house without any contact with anyone else. Tonight through Sunday night. On Monday, you can cash the check and get started. But you have to stay with me all weekend. No phones, no email. Just the two of us.”
My brain was trying to process the words he’d spoken but I couldn’t hear my thoughts above the sound of my heart thumping in my chest. First the money and then this. Whatever this was.
Gone was the sweet guy who’d hired me when I didn’t have any experience and always gave me a second, third, fourth chance. The man sitting across from me was someone I didn’t recognize, somehow who grew up with money, used to getting what he wanted, because he had the means. And now for some reason he wanted me.
But just for the weekend.
Of course, it was just for the weekend.
I guess the sex had been that good.
Ironic that the one man I hadn’t thrown myself at all these years because I respected him too much, would be the one to tear down my remaining self-respect. Bile rose in my throat and I swallowed it down as Ford and I stared at each other. He was waiting for some sort of response but throwing up on the table wasn’t probably one he was expecting.
“And what would we do this weekend? What would be expected of me?” We both knew what I was asking but I couldn’t actually verbalize it, the thought was so offensive.
“You mean, is sex a requirement for the money?”
I nodded curtly. There was no point pretending seventy thousand wasn’t a life changing amount, plus the ten thousand Selena had racked up. I could start my business. I could actually make something of myself. If I walked away, I’d have nothing, but the small amount in my savings account wasn’t nearly enough to start a business or even relocate somewhere else. I was going to have to rely on Derrick’s good will for that.
And then what?
Nothing. The same old thing. Minimum wage job, no health insurance, no pension plan, and bad credit. But at least I wouldn’t have to look at Ford every day.
He didn’t answer me at first, instead tapping his knuckles softly on the tablecloth. All around us, the restaurant hustle and bustle continued, normal people, discussing normal things. Couple on dates, mostly. I doubt any of them were discussing the finer points of what ultimately worked out to be glorified prostitution.
“No, sex is not a requirement. Although, if you accept, I would like you to try and be open-minded about what could transpire between us over the next forty-eight hours.”
“You’re going to have to be a bit more specific, Ford. What exactly are you buying with that amount? The pleasure of my company? The pleasure of my body? What?”
“I want us to spend time together, where you can’t run away and ignore me because I make you nervous. I want to get to know you better and I want you to get to know me. Ever since our night together, I’ve come to realize you have a slightly skewed view of me and I want time to change that.”
I nodded my head. “So this is more like an escort sort of thing. You pay for my company and it’s up to me how far it goes.”
Ford exhaled slowly, his nose flared. The irritation I was causing was palpable. What did he expect? Me to get on my knees and thank him for such a generous offer, maybe offer him a complementary blowjob to get the whole thing started?
Screw him.
I thought he was different. The way he spoke to me, touched me. It was imbued with a sense of care I’d fallen for.
Glancing around me at the other happy couples, I let myself imagine the kind of life I could have if I agreed to this ridiculous idea. I wouldn’t have to walk around endlessly worried I still wasn’t good enough for anyone. Growing a business, something that scared the hell out of me, becoming something besides easy Charlie from the trailer park, no longer reliant on the idea of having to find a man to take care of me.
It gave me the potential to be so normal, non-dysfunctional. And it was just out of reach. If all I had to do was spend a weekend with Ford, was that so bad? Forty-eight hours and then I’d be able to grasp that life, the kind of life I never even let myself dream of having?
Of course I was going to say yes.
What was self-respect anyway? Did I have more self-respect when I’d slept with all those men who didn’t even deem me worthy of taking on a real date?
No.
My previous approach to life up until a few months ago didn’t have room for self-respect. All I had to do was revert back to that, ignore all the progress I’d felt I’d made in the past few months to self-esteem.
How hard could it be?
“No, let me make this clear. This is not an escort type of situation. You can’t just shut down and sit around looking pretty, ignoring me for the next two days. You’re going to have to be a little bit more open-minded about what I’m asking of you, in exchange for the money. I want you to be my girlfriend. For two days.”
“I don’t understand how that’s any different to calling me an escort. Don’t worry, Ford, my little ego can take it.”
“What I mean is I want you to want to spend the weekend. I want you to make the effort over the next two days to imagine what this could be lik
e–” he waved his hand between us. “As my girlfriend, I would never force you to have sex with me, obviously, so in that sense sex is not a requirement. However, I expect us, you, to behave as if you actually want to spend the weekend with me. I can’t imagine you’re that good an actress, Charlie. That’s why I’m saying you need to be more unbiased about this. We’re going to be sharing a bed, being close, talking about things couples talk about, not diverting subjects endless or making up stories because it’s what you think I want to hear.”
So my prom story hadn’t rung true? Huh, I thought it was pretty good.
It didn’t matter. I didn’t care if he pitied me now.
But could I really do what he was asking me? All the bitter and snarky comments I already had lined up to use would have to go. The wall I was rapidly building in order to mentally be able to tackle the next two days would have to come down. I couldn’t withdraw and still be myself. And then I wouldn’t get the money.
“I want us to go back two weeks and pretend this is just the weekend after our first time together. That I’m whisking you away, into the woods, to spend some quality time with my girl. Can’t you imagine doing it?”
My eyes welled with tears at the image he’d painted. Wanting to spend a weekend alone with me.
His girl.
Taking care of me.
Taking the time to get to know me.
Just the two of us. God, had anything sounded so wonderful?
“Yeah, I can imagine doing that.” I nodded slowly. My response was met with a huge grin.
“You can? Great. That’s what I want from our time together, Charlie.”
“Okay,” I agreed, “I’ll do it. But can I say one thing?”
“Of course,” Ford readily agreed as he signaled for the waiter to come and take his credit card, clearly eager to get out of here now I’d agreed, “anything, Charlie, say whatever you want.”
“After our time together two weeks ago, I imagined a few different scenarios as to how things might work out between us. But I never imagined this one. I never imagined in a million years you would be the kind of man who would pay me to do this.” Rising from my chair with as much grace as was possible considering I’d just sold myself to Ford for the next two days, I plastered a smile on my face. “I’ll just go and powder my nose before we leave.”
Into the Woods (Lust in the Woods Book 2) Page 6
