Hooker (L.A. Liaisons Book 2)

by Brooke Blaine

  “Of course it will. And we’ll just figure it out as we go.” I laid my hand on his forearm, and he smiled, a small but genuine one. Then he looked over his shoulder.

  “Better call in the cavalry before they run out of cigarettes.”

  * * *

  MARTINA AND ROGER hashed out the details of our plan, which, they admitted, wasn’t bad at all, and then they had me sign an NDA that basically threatened my life if I so much as peeped one detail to anyone—friends and family included.

  I’d pretend to be Ace’s girlfriend until the press died down enough and I was able to find someone to take a more long-term position, as it were. The whole thing left me mixed with emotions—high with adrenaline, relieved at having come up with a solution, sad for the reality of Ace’s situation, but most of all, utterly drained.

  I’d been there for hours, and when I left, the paparazzi were still camped out outside the gate. A couple of flashes went off this time, but they soon lost interest.

  What would happen once the statement went out and Ace and I made a public appearance? Would I be followed? God, I hoped not. At least I’d kept my phone off all day, which helped me live in ignorant bliss for just a little while longer. I wasn’t ready to face whatever was on there.

  It wasn’t until I drove away that Nate’s face finally found its way back into my thoughts. He hadn’t even been a consideration in the decision I’d made today. Not that he was my boyfriend, but… Well, he wasn’t. And it looked like any possibility of that changing in the future would just have to wait.

  And damn if that didn’t send a stab right through my chest.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Hair Full of Secrets

  “SO? WHAT DO you think? Five-Minute Quickie or Lube It Up?” Ryleigh’s foot tapped from behind the counter of Licked as she not so patiently waited for me to give her an answer.

  “Can’t I choose both?” I asked, and she gave a firm shake of her head.

  I’d stopped by Licked after work the next day since I was resigned to driving for the duration of my “partnership” with Ace instead of taking the train in case I needed an escape. Girl talk and dessert always made me feel a million times better, and her naughty-named ice cream and boozy shakes were the best anywhere in the state of California.

  And before you think that’s just my humble opinion, consider the fact that Licked and Licked After Dark, her companion bar, had franchises popping open all over the country, thanks to a contest and appearance on Wake Up America.

  While we’d all thought she’d botched her chances of winning after running out of the interview to stop Hunter from getting on a plane, it turned out audiences thought her romantic gesture was endearing and her business impressive. In just a few short months she had offers in eight states with no signs of slowing down. To say we were all proud of her was an understatement.

  “Decisions, decisions.” I took another bite of each sundae sample. And then another. And then anoth—

  “Shayne,” Ryleigh said, laughing and moving the bowls out of my reach. I reached for them again, and she swatted my hand. “Pick one. Now. Or God help me, I will never ask you to help me test new flavors again.”

  Eeny, meeny, miny mo.

  “Um. This one.” I pointed to the creamy concoction full of chocolate, pecan, and caramel turtle clusters.

  She nodded and then wrote the name on a whiteboard hanging near the register. “Five-Minute Quickie it is. Thank you.”

  “Welcome. Now how about you top that bad boy off? I wouldn’t be opposed to a vodka splash either.”

  “Rough day?”

  “Rough day. Rough week. Rough life.”

  “Hmm.” Ryleigh’s eyes narrowed as she popped the cap back on her marker. “How about I get you an Overdramatic Valley Girl shake instead?”

  “I’m not familiar with that one, but I’d be willing to test it out for you.”

  She rolled her eyes. “So what’s going on? Is Val giving you shit? She called me earlier to book the After Dark for a masked Valentine’s Day event, and I priced it a grand above what I normally would.”

  “And she took it? She’s normally such a cheapskate. Or maybe that’s just with her employees,” I grumbled.

  “Hey.” Ryleigh leaned over and put her hand on mine. “I know you’re super proud and independent, and I’d never suggest you give up a career you love, but if you ever need a side job here, you know it’s yours. And I’d pay you a helluva lot better than that dingbat.”

  “I know. And I appreciate that, I do. It’s not really the money, though, that’s always tight. Life is just…complicated at the moment.”

  “Gee, that explanation’s not vague at all, thanks.”

  Scooping another spoonful, I said, “This stuff is a miracle worker, so keep ’em coming.”

  The jingle of the front door opening and a loud “Aha!” rang out across the room. I whirled around to see Paige stalking toward us, a pile of magazines in her arms.

  “I knew I’d find you here, you secretive little wench.” She slapped down a Celebrity Weekly magazine in front of me, which was turned to page fifteen and had a grainy photo of me leaving Ace’s neighborhood in Old Ouiser, albeit in sunglasses and a ball cap. “What the hell is this?”

  I frowned. “Damn. They didn’t get my good side.”

  “Please explain why one of my best friends was photographed leaving Ace Locke’s freakin’ neighborhood. Yesterday it was ‘He’s gay,’ and today it’s ‘Oops, he’s not gay, he’s dating the matchmaker.’ I mean, what is this shit?”

  “Wait, you’re dating who?” Ryleigh snatched the magazine, and as she skimmed over the article, her eyes grew wide. Then she looked up at me. “I don’t understand.”

  Busted. And it wasn’t as though I wasn’t dying to give them every dirty detail, but out of respect for Ace, as well as that little thing called an NDA, I had to keep my mouth shut. Which wouldn’t be an easy feat at all around the girls.

  I shrugged. “We, you know. Hit it off. In Vegas.”

  “No,” Paige said, shaking her head, her blond hair spraying out around her shoulders. “You did not.”

  “We did so. You weren’t sitting with us to know. Now gimme that.” I reached for the magazine, but Ryleigh walked off with it and began reading out loud.

  “‘It has been confirmed by Ace’s manager, Mr. Roger Herschman, that the couple has been quietly dating. The pair were reportedly introduced by Val Barberie, the head of Hook, Line & Sinker Matchmaking Company.’”

  “And the rest of these corroborate that story.” Paige dropped the rest of the magazines in her hands onto the counter with a loud smack.

  “Well.” I gave them a sheepish look. “Surprise?”

  Paige’s hands went to her hips. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

  “I was going to tell you—”

  “You know,” she continued, “I’d expect secrets from Quinn. Hell, I couldn’t tell you where she ran off to this week, but you? You seem to be withholding a lot of information lately. Spill it, or I’m driving myself over to this new boyfriend’s house and jumping the gate to get the word from him.”

  With a sigh, I told the girls the story I’d concocted as a cover.

  Ace had called me, we’d spent time together earlier in the week, and the gay tabloid piece was the work of a jealous ex, blah blah blah. It was a flimsy excuse at best, even I knew that, but the alternative wasn’t something I could live with.

  Paige’s eyes stayed narrowed the whole time, and when I finished, she pursed her lips.

  Come on, just let it go so I don’t have to lie to your face any more than I already am.

  But neither of them said anything, and Ryleigh went about making a sundae.

  “You sticking to that story?” Paige said finally. She had a knowing look in her eyes, but I could see she wasn’t going to press for more information. If Quinn had been here, on the other hand, she probably would’ve guessed the truth in five seconds flat and called me o
ut for it. She missed nothing.

  Luckily, Ryleigh chose that moment to slide a new bowl of Five-Minute Quickie my way. “Hey, what about Dimples? What was his name…Nate? I liked him.”

  Yeah, what about Nate. That’s all I’d been thinking about all day and exactly what had sent me straight into the arms of the ice cream I was devouring.

  I raised an eyebrow. “Weren’t you the one complaining he was young enough to babysit?”

  “I’m a sucker for dimples, but don’t tell Hunter. And he seemed crazy about you, even if he did leave you high and dry,” she said with a wink.

  Yeah, I hadn’t gotten around to telling them about the surprise date we’d had on Monday, thank God. Otherwise that would blow the Ace timeline a bit.

  “You’re avoiding the question,” Paige said as she took a seat beside me. “What about Justin Bieber?”

  “Um, what the fuck.”

  “What? They’re about the same age, right?”

  “No. Jesus.”

  Ryleigh set a drink in front of Paige and then crossed her arms on the bar. “You’re looking a little flushed there, Shayne. Don’t tell me I should’ve given you a Double Dipper special instead.”

  “No!” Paige gasped and placed her hand over her heart oh so dramatically. “Is our little hooker turning into a big-time madam over here?”

  “I’m not double-dipping. Absolutely not.”

  “Bullllshiiiiiit. If you haven’t yet, you will. Or want to.”

  “You know, now that you mention it, I do recognize that conflicted expression,” Ryleigh said, tapping her chin. “Believe me when I say you don’t wanna go that route.”

  And she would know. After reuniting with her high school crush, Cameron Mathis, over the summer at their ten-year reunion, she’d not only kindled a relationship with him, but she had also fallen for his roommate, her now-boyfriend, Hunter Morgan. Both were fuckin’ hot, Cameron in a blond ’n’ polished business suit sort of way, and Hunter in his blue-collar, getting-dirty-with-his-hands kind of way.

  Color us not surprised at all when Ryleigh went with the man good with his hands.

  Paige pointed her straw in Ryleigh’s direction. “Get off it, woman. Let her fuck whoever she wants—”

  “Date,” I interjected.

  “Whatever. So tell us. Who’s bigger? Is Ace’s package extra-large delivery, or have steroids destroyed his quivering member?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh even as her words had me cringing. “I haven’t seen either package yet, thank you very much. It’s not what you think.”

  “Fine. So tell us.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Is Val forcing you on Ace? Oh my gosh, hang on,” Ryleigh said, bouncing on her heels. Then she leaned over to whisper, “Is he really gay and you’re having to cover for him?”

  Well, shit.

  Before I could deny her way-too-accurate statement, Paige piped up. “Look at her. She’s too pretty to beard for some big shot. Hell, she above anyone deserves a sugar daddy.”

  “You did not just say that.” I shook my head and pushed my bowl away. “I’m not looking for a damn sugar daddy.”

  “Of course not. I said deserves. You’re practically a saint for putting up with Val, the brainless twins you have for roommates, and pairing off half of the city. Why shouldn’t someone take care of you for a change?”

  “Aw, would you listen to that? She cares. She really cares,” Ryleigh said, and then shrieked as she moved out of the way of Paige’s thrown straw.

  I sighed. “I appreciate that, I do. But I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”

  “Ugh. Fine. But when are you finally gonna let me convince you to move in with me? Your room would be as big as your apartment right now, plus you’d be able to actually relax without having to listen to The Bachelor reruns constantly or having your stuff smell like suntan lotion.”

  “You wanting me to live with you has nothing to do with using me for my mad cooking skills?”

  “No. I’m just selfish and think it would be fun to have girls’ night in our pajamas whenever we want.”

  “You’re never home.”

  “Exactly. It’s too damn quiet, and it creeps me out.”

  I ended the conversation with a “Yeah, yeah,” and wished I could take her up on the offer. But there was no way. Paige’s place was a huge mansion up in the Hollywood Hills worth several million dollars.

  Yeah. Rich bitch was an understatement.

  The house had been a college graduation present, not that she didn’t make significant money as an in-demand wedding planner. She’d never let me pay her rent, and I refused to be a freeloader. Stubborn Aussie pride and whatnot. And it wasn’t like my apartment was so bad. It was a bit run-down, but it had a great view, looking out over Hollywood with downtown L.A. in the distance. During the holidays a Christmas tree was strung up on the Capitol Records building, and the view of it from my couch was the reason I never had to spring for dragging a live tree up four flights of stairs.

  “I’ll think about it.” My standard response every time she asked me that.

  “You should think hard. And speaking of hard…” She grabbed two straws and held them up, her eyes twinkling. “Let’s discuss how you’re not enjoying things down under with two guys right now, you greedy hooker.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Juggling Balls

  I WAS A right coward. I was. There was no denying it, and I wasn’t about to try.

  Why all the self-loathing, you ask?

  It was Friday. And I’d been ignoring Nate’s calls for four days.

  I know. Don’t look at me like that.

  Yes, he was this incredibly adorable guy, and most of you would be falling over yourself for him, but if you hadn’t noticed, my life was in a bit of an upheaval right now. I wasn’t even on speaking terms at the moment with Val—her decision, not mine—and I’d had to spend what would’ve been our second date last night with Ace instead, going over his schedule and planning future outings so that we could be “casually” spotted by paps.

  To say my life was surreal at the moment was an understatement. I couldn’t drag Nate into that. Besides, he was this hot college guy, and it wasn’t like he couldn’t find a replacement in two seconds flat, right?

  At least, that was what I’d been telling myself.

  I didn’t have plans with Ace tonight, Ryleigh was spending a night off with Hunter, Quinn was off on one of her mysterious work trips again, and Paige was prepping a weekend wedding, so there I was, putting in a ten-hour day and counting. Thank God everyone had left for the night, and I could get my weekly column up on our website on time.

  The column consisted of an Ask the Matchmaker Q&A, which I had to heavily edit because the questions could easily turn into a sex column free-for-all, as well as upcoming events and singles mixers. Our next one was scheduled for Valentine’s Day, just over three weeks away, and we already had a waiting list of people wanting to attend. Val had thrown the whole thing on me this week, so it hadn’t left much time to start recruiting for my more personal mission. Read: beard needed.

  A beep alerted me to the front door to HLS opening, and a quick glance at the time told me it was Roberto making his final security rounds before the next guard took over for the night.

  “Roberto, it’s just me,” I called out, and continued typing.

  “I know. He let me up.”

  My head jerked up at the sound of Nate’s voice just as he came to a stop in the doorway to my office and leaned against the jamb. Dressed in dark jeans, a collared shirt, and a navy blazer, and with his chestnut hair stylishly windblown, he looked like a wet dream. My wet dream. Somehow I’d convinced myself he wasn’t as gorgeous as he’d been in my memories, but I’d been dead wrong. He was so much more than that.

  Oh God. This isn’t good.

  Nate shoved his hands in his pockets and tipped his head to the side. “Not answering my calls?”

  My mouth opened to speak, and I willed
a response to come, but what could I say? “Sorry, I’m supposed to be dating Ace Locke and can’t commit to more than one relationship at a time, but thanks for stopping by”?

  “You missed our date last night,” he continued, stepping up to my desk. “I even stopped by your place, but your roommates said you weren’t home. Interesting friends, by the way.”

  I simply stared up at him, wishing like hell things were different. Because if they were, there was no way I would’ve missed spending time with him. He’d had my attention from the first moment I’d seen him, and it would suck a fat one to make him leave. But he had to. For my damn sanity.

  “Nothing to say? I didn’t think it was possible for you to go speechless.”

  Sighing, I pushed away from the keyboard and stood. “Look, Nate…I like you. I do. I’m just not in a great place right now, and the last thing you need is to have to deal with all that.”

  “Why don’t you let me make my mind up about what I’m willing and not willing to deal with?”

  “Okay, fine. Spending time with you is the last thing I need right now.”

  “Ouch,” he said, his hand going over his heart like he’d been wounded, and then he rounded my desk. “Wait. Is this because I took you to IHOP? In my defense, that was your choice, and you ate those waffles like they were the best thing you’d ever put in—”

  “No, it wasn’t your disastrous date-planning skills.”

  “Huh. Is it because I tried to steal date night away from Target? I’ll apologize, but I won’t give it back.”

  I bit down on my lip to keep from smiling, and he took a step toward me, his hands going to my hips. His tone was serious when he said, “If this is about the age thing—”

  “It’s not—”

  “But if it were—”

  “Really, that has nothing—”

  “Shh,” he said, putting his finger up to my lips. Then he crossed his heart. “If it did, then I solemnly swear never to tell you to get Botox before you’re forty.”