Going Deep (Imperfect Love Book 2)

by Nikki Ash

  The tears I was holding back finally fall.

  “And even though you hate New York, when I said I wanted to move home, you packed up your stuff without saying a word.” Olivia steps forward until she’s directly in front of me. “No amount of money could ever pay for the friendship you’ve given me. Having you in my life is worth a thousand times more than anywhere I pay for us to live, or whatever gift I buy, or the ticket I purchase for you for a stupid dinner. It’s just money.”

  A humorless laugh escapes me. “It’s just money to someone like you. It’s everything to someone like me who doesn’t have any.”

  “Is that what this is about?” Olivia asks. “Do you need money? Did something happen? I can help you. Just let me in.”

  My eyes widen at her words, shocked that after everything I just said, her answer is to offer me money. Having no clue how to even respond to what she said, I turn to walk away.

  “I’m sorry!” Olivia grabs my hand. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just—I don’t know how to fix this! Tell me how to fix this, please. I just want my best friend back.”

  “You can’t, and even if you could, I wouldn’t let you.” I let out an exhausted sigh. “Look, I’m sorry I’ve been so distant lately. I’m working a lot and taking care of my mom and sister. It’s not you. I’m not moving out because I’m mad at you. Like I said before, it’s something I need to do for my mom. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but it’s time I stand on my own two feet.”

  “Wait a second,” Nick cuts in. “Did Killian say something to you?” I shake my head, and Nick gives me a hard stare, silently telling me not to lie. “Damn it, he did, didn’t he?”

  “It doesn’t matter if he did or didn’t,” I tell him, because it doesn’t. Everything Killian said was the truth. “Look, you guys have an event to get ready for, and I need to get to my mom’s.”

  I give Olivia a hug. “I love you, Livi.”

  She hugs me back. “This conversation isn’t over,” she murmurs into my ear.

  I nod once then retreat to my bedroom to get packed. My phone vibrates for the millionth time. When I glance at the screen, it shows it’s Bianca calling again.

  “Hello.” I nestle the phone between my ear and shoulder while I grab a change of clothes and stuff them into my overnight bag.

  “I’ve called you a dozen times.”

  “I’m sorry. My mom’s nurse—”

  “Giselle,” Bianca snaps, “I’m too busy to listen to your latest sob story. That’s what you have friends for. I was calling because I’m going to need you to come in tonight.”

  I stop in my place. “I can’t tonight.” I squeeze my eyes shut as I wait for Bianca to yell at me.

  “Then you’re fired,” she says in a calm voice which tells me she’s serious.

  “Bianca…”

  “You can go afterward. I only need you for a few hours.”

  “Okay.” I let out a frustrated sigh. “What time?”

  “A driver will be there to pick you up at your usual spot in thirty minutes. It’s black tie. I’ve sent you all the info you will need. Also, if it helps, because of it being last minute, you will be paid double.” She hangs up without a goodbye.

  I finish packing and get dressed. The place is quiet, which means Olivia and Nick must’ve already left to the charity function. They’re bringing Reed with them, and once he’s tired, Olivia’s stepsister, Shelby, is going to take him home. I hate that I can’t be there for her tonight, especially since she spent all that money on my plate just so I could go.

  After I step out of the elevator and head down the street, I call my mom to check on her, but she doesn’t pick up. I leave her a voicemail to let her know I will be by in a few hours to see her. When I see the limo parked and waiting for me, I tell her I love her and will see her soon.

  I approach the vehicle and notice the driver is someone I’ve never seen before. And then it hits me that in my rush I didn’t check the info, so I have no clue who I’m going on a date with.

  “Good evening, ma’am.” The driver bows slightly and smiles. I smile back before lifting my cocktail dress up slightly and sliding into the backseat. The door closes behind me, and I look to my right to see my date for the evening. Dark brown hair—thick and lustrous with blazing hazel eyes. His skin is flawless and his face is strong and defined with prominent cheek-bones. My gaze goes to his soft, sharp lips which are turned down in a scowl. He’s wearing an expensive suit that molds his body like it was made just for him, and it probably was. His tie is emerald green and gold. It brings out the tiny flecks of green in his eyes. It’s also the colors of the New York Brewers, which makes perfect sense, since the man wearing the tie is the receiver for that very same team.

  My eyes glide back up and meet his, and his scowl deepens. “What the hell are you doing in my limo?”

  “Apparently I’m your date.”

  Nine

  Killian

  What is she doing here? In a shimmery silver dress and matching heels, why is Giselle Winters sitting next to me inside my limo? When Bianca, the owner of A Touch of Class, called my assistant an hour ago and said there was an issue with the escort who was supposed to be my date, she assured her that she would have someone else for me. My assistant notified me we would need to pick her up in Brooklyn Heights instead of in SoHo. I told her to forward the info to my driver. I was going through my emails on my phone when the limo driver parked, so I had no clue we were stopped only about four blocks from where Giselle and Olivia live. And I never imagined when the door opened who would be stepping into my limo.

  “What the hell are you doing in my limo?” I ask way too harshly. But I can’t help it. The woman has been on my mind way too often lately, and being forced to spend an entire evening with her won’t help.

  “Apparently I’m your date,” she slings back with a glare. “Who would’ve thought Killian Blake would resort to paying for a woman?”

  “Who would’ve thought Giselle Winters would resort to whoring herself out?” Giselle’s face falls, and I regret my words. “I’m sorry,” I say. “That was uncalled for.”

  “It’s the truth.” She shrugs, opening the door. “I’m a whore…just like Tabitha…you know, the woman you paid to accompany you to your event not long ago. But I bet you didn’t call her a whore.” Oh, shit! Now it makes sense. How Tabitha knew Giselle. They both work for the same escort service.

  “I’ll call Bianca and see if she can find you someone else… Someone who is less of a whore. I didn’t know you were my client.” She steps outside and closes the door behind her.

  Flinging my door open, I go around to her side. She’s dialing a number. I snatch the phone out of her hand before she can make the call. “Look, I’m sorry for what I said. The woman I was going to take didn’t work out. Then the date I hired had to cancel. I’m pretty sure you’re my only option.”

  “Great.” She closes her eyes for a long beat before she opens them back up. Her blue eyes don’t look cold like they usually do. Today, they look deep like the bottom of the ocean, and if I’m not mistaken, they look sad, burnt out as if the light in them faded.

  “If you want to call your boss, maybe she can find someone else.” I hand her back her phone. The last thing I want is to be stuck on a date with Giselle, who would rather be anywhere but with me.

  “She told me if I didn’t go, I would be fired.” She frowns. “I can’t afford to be fired.”

  “All right, then why don’t we just go and make the best of it?”

  Giselle looks up at me and nods, resigned. “Okay.”

  We get back in the limo, and I let the driver know we’re ready to go. The drive to the event is awkwardly silent, neither of us daring to break the tension in the air. When we arrive, Giselle’s head whips around to me.

  “Oh my god! This is the Prince George Ballroom.” She jabs her finger toward the building.

  “Yeah…” I confirm, confused.

  “This is the Prince
George Ballroom,” she repeats, and this time I chuckle.

  “I’m aware.”

  “Oh my god—”

  “You’re not about to tell me for a third time where we are, are you?”

  “This is where the charity event is. Olivia and Nick’s event.” Oh…now I see where she’s going with this.

  “Olivia doesn’t know you’re an escort, does she?”

  “Of course she doesn’t know!” Giselle shouts. “It’s not exactly something I’m proud of.”

  “What I don’t understand is if you’re escorting on top of working at that design place, why are you always so broke?” I don’t know how much she gets paid, but I know what I pay the company she works for, and it’s a small fortune.

  Giselle glares daggers my way. “You don’t know shit, Killian. Don’t you dare make assumptions or pretend to know anything about me or my life.”

  I raise my hands in surrender, not wanting to piss her off right before we go out in public. “I’m not. It was just a question.”

  “Whatever, let’s just do this.” Giselle grabs the handle, but the driver opens the door before she can, and she almost falls out of the vehicle. I circle her waist to catch her and she shakes me off with a quick “Thanks.”

  The moment we step out of the limo, the press go crazy. At first I’m worried about how Giselle is going to act in front of everyone. But as we walk the carpet slowly, allowing the press to take pictures, the entire time Giselle has on the perfect game face. She links her arm around mine and smiles for the cameras. When different magazines ask me questions, she stands slightly back while I answer them.

  “Can I ask you about your date tonight?” one of the reporters asks. “I don’t believe we’ve seen her with you before.” I feel Giselle’s body stiffen next to me, while she waits for me to answer.

  “She’s actually the best friend of Olivia Harper, the woman who made this entire evening possible.” I smile, and we move forward.

  “Thank you,” Giselle murmurs once we make our way inside.

  “Outing you would only make me look bad,” I say. “If anyone else asks, I’ll give them the same answer I did out there.”

  We head through the grand ballroom and over to the table with numbers. The woman asks for my name and then hands me two place cards so we can find our seats. The entire place is decorated in gold, silver, and cream. The outer walls have tables lined with silent auctions for the guests to check out. All of the winnings will go toward Touchdown for Reading and the Arts.

  We find our table and set our place cards down. Nobody is sitting at the moment, so I suggest we head over to the auctions. Giselle follows me through the room while I place bids on a few auctions. When different people stop me to talk, Giselle is sweet and charming—the same way I’ve seen her act when she’s with her other dates. And then it hits me. All those men I’ve seen her with. They weren’t dates. They were clients.

  “Killian, I’m so glad you could make it.” Olivia pulls me out of my thoughts and in for a hug. “And who’s your date?” She tilts her head to the side, and that’s when I notice Giselle is hiding behind me. Laughing under my breath, I move to the side.

  “Olivia, I would like for you to meet my date. Giselle Winters, this is Olivia Harper.” Giselle raises her head and smiles nervously.

  “Oh my goodness!” Olivia claps excitedly. “I didn’t know you two were coming together. I thought you couldn’t make it.” Olivia wraps her friend up in a hug.

  Giselle’s eyes bounce from Olivia to me, clearly unsure of what to say, so I answer her instead. “She’s doing me a favor. My date couldn’t make it.”

  Nick eyes me accusingly, silently calling bullshit, and I shake my head once, telling him to drop it. “We’re glad you both could make it. Killian, I want to show you something. Join me?” It comes out like a question, but it’s anything but.

  “I think it would be rude to leave our dates—” I begin to say, but Nick cuts me off.

  “It will only be a minute.” He gives Olivia a kiss on her cheek with a promise to be right back.

  “Where’s Reed?” I ask as we walk back over to the auction tables.

  “He passed out an hour after we arrived, so Shelby took him back to Olivia’s place.” We stop in the corner, and Nick turns to face me, hitting me with a hard stare. “Did you say something to Giselle about her moving out?”

  “No,” I start to say, but then I remember when I was babysitting and Giselle came home, we had words. “Yeah.”

  “Dammit, Kill. Giselle told Olivia tonight she’s moving out.”

  “And that’s a bad thing, why?”

  “Because she’s put her mom’s house up for sale, and even if it does sell, she can’t afford a place in the city.”

  “Trust me, Giselle is making more money than you think. Besides, it’s not like she’s your concern.”

  “It doesn’t matter if she’s a fucking millionaire. She and Olivia got into it because of whatever you said to her, and now Olivia is upset. I get you don’t like Celeste and Giselle, and I’m pretty sure it’s a mixture of you looking out for me and you refusing to deal with whatever you’ve been running from since college. But no more treating them like shit for me. I accept both of those women the way they are. Just like I don’t know what’s going on with you under the surface because you refuse to talk about it, the same can be said for them.”

  Damn it, he’s right. I’ve been projecting my issues onto Giselle and Celeste, when the truth is, I’m not fucking perfect, and I definitely have no right to judge other people.

  “I’m not sure why Giselle agreed to be your date, but maybe you can use it as an opportunity,” Nick says.

  “An opportunity for what?” I ask, confused.

  “To actually get to know the woman you’re on a date with. Who knows? Maybe Giselle will shock you. It’s not often you bring a date you didn’t have to pay to join you.” Nick smirks. If only he knew the truth…

  “I went on a date recently. Fuck you very much,” I say in my defense.

  “That model Christina set you up with? That doesn’t count. We both know she was too busy modeling for the paparazzi to actually pay any attention to you. You would’ve been better off with one of your paid escorts.”

  He’s got me there. Christina might be down to earth, but her friend definitely wasn’t. She barely said two words to me the entire time, more concerned with who was taking our photograph or interviewing us. It was obvious she was using me to get back into the spotlight. And the few words she did speak to me were about how much men suck.

  “Don’t you think it’s time to deal with whatever has been eating you up inside? Maybe you could give someone a chance. Let someone in. Not every woman is a gold-digger.” I want to explain to him that it’s more than them being gold-diggers… it’s about protecting myself. But if I say that, he’ll want me to explain, and I’m not prepared to go there.

  “Maybe not, but most women aren’t anything like Olivia,” I point out.

  “How would you know if you refuse to give anyone a chance?” Nick pats me on the shoulder. “I’m going to dance with my fiancée. Be nice to Giselle.” He gives me a pointed look.

  “Yes, sir!”

  I follow him back over to where the women are standing and talking. Nick leads Olivia onto the dance floor, and Giselle is left standing there alone. I take a moment to look at her—really look at her. With her hair down in waves and minimal makeup on her face, there’s no denying she’s a beautiful woman. Her dress is elegant and classy, yet with the back completely bare and the front cut just low enough that the swells of her breasts peek out, it screams sexy and wild. What Nick said about not knowing what’s under the surface suddenly comes to the forefront of my mind. He’s right, I won’t talk about what happened, and too many times since I’ve met Giselle I’ve thought there might be more to her than what meets the eye.

  Before I can question what I’m doing, I step in front of her and extend my hand. She eyes it like
it’s covered in shit before she looks up, silently asking what I’m doing.

  “Dance with me.”

  “Why?” she asks with a look of disgust.

  “Because I’m paying you to,” I hiss. She flinches, and I curse myself. Jesus, I suck at this shit. Before I can apologize, she takes my hand and pulls me onto the dance floor. Her arms go around my neck and her eyes look anywhere but at me.

  Encircling one arm around her waist, I use my other hand to steer her chin toward me so she’s forced to look at me. “I’m sorry.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry for. Everything you’ve said is the truth.” Giselle diverts her eyes away.

  “Hey,” I murmur, “look at me, please.” Her cold blue eyes meet mine and they’re glossed over. “I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’m sorry.”

  “Can you please just stop saying sorry?” She removes one hand from around my nape and swipes the falling tear away. When she places her hand back, I feel the wetness of her touch, and it sends a chill through my body. I did this. I made her cry. I’m such a fucking asshole. “I’m well aware of what I am and what I do for money. I’m nothing more than a glorified prostitute.”

  It takes me a second, but her words hit me like a punch to the gut. “Hold up.” I stop moving. “Do you have sex with the guys you go out with?”

  Giselle looks at me incredulously, and I think she’s going to tell me she doesn’t. But instead she glances around to make sure nobody heard me before she says, “Are you serious right now? You know I do!” she whisper-yells. “And don’t go acting like you’re better than me. I might get paid to fuck men, but you pay women to fuck you. There’s no difference.”

  I open my mouth to argue but stop myself. She thinks I’ve hired her to get laid. I knew sex was an option with the escort service I use, the service she works for, but that’s not why I use them.

  “This is just a date,” I tell her. “I have no intention of having sex with you.”