by Clara James
“No,” I responded, leaping up and grabbing hold of the waistband of his jeans. “That won’t do anything and he’s not worth it.”
“It’ll make me feel better,” he countered insistently.
“Please,” I begged. The truth was though, he wasn’t moving. He wasn’t trying to force my hand away from him. He might still have been fighting with his compulsion to have it out with Paul, but there wasn’t really any chance of him going against my wishes. “It’ll only make things worse,” I breathed.
“What do you mean?” he said, shaking his head. “He can’t hurt you now,” he added, pulling me into his arms and wrapping them protectively around my waist. “You’re safe here.”
I sniffed into his shoulder and pressed my nose to his shirt, for a moment just content to breathe him in. “I know that,” I mumbled. “I’m not worried about myself. I’m worried about my kids.”
Tipping his upper body back, so he could look at my face, he asked, “Are they safe with him?”
“It’s not that,” I quickly corrected his misunderstanding. “I know he’d never hurt them.”
“But?” he coaxed.
“But he’s going to try and take them away from me. He’s going to claim that I’m an unfit mom and that they’re not safe around me.”
“Just out of spite?” he asked.
I nodded, finding my hands gripping tightly to the loose fabric of the back of his shirt. “He’s got all of these lawyers who work for the company and he’s got a bunch of friends who are also attorneys, so he won’t have a problem fighting me in the courts. I, on the other hand, can now afford to retain a lawyer, but it probably won’t leave a lot leftover. And...I’m not sure if I’ll be able to win anyway.”
“Why do you say that?” Preston whispered, guiding me slowly back down to the couch.
“Because he’s rich with powerful friends,” I replied as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. “He always wins.”
“Maybe not always,” he said quietly, seeming to murmur the words more for his own benefit than for mine. “So...” he eventually sighed. “There’s something I don’t quite understand.”
“Go ahead,” I sniffed, wiping the heel of my hand across my teary cheek, careful to avoid the soreness just beneath my eye.
“You said you wanted out, that you weren’t going to escort after that awful night,” he said, but went no further.
“Yeah,” I nodded.
“So what changed your mind?” he finally asked. “What made you agree to go out with me?”
With a shaky bottom lip, I opened my mouth to speak and closed it again. Perhaps I’d revealed enough for one afternoon. I’d already burdened the poor man with more than he’d bargained for, he didn’t need anything else. “I don’t know,” I huffed. “I just...You were offering a lot of money and it seemed too good to pass up.”
“I’m not sure I believe you,” he replied, his eyes unflinchingly fixed on mine. “If it was the money, why didn’t you take what I offered this morning?”
“That was...” I babbled. “It was different.”
I have no doubt that the answer wasn’t satisfactory for Preston. However, he appeared to sense my reluctance to speak further on the subject and duly dropped it. I could see him thinking, I imaginatively thought I could even hear his brain humming, but for a long time he said nothing. When he did speak it was to address his other topic of concern. “Has he ever hurt you before?” he almost whispered. “Your husband?” he added.
“Not really,” I numbly responded. “Not like this, not deliberate and...” I paused realizing in my effort to explain, I was making things infinitely muddier than they needed to be. “He’s never hit me,” I sighed, shaking my head.
“And your kids, did they see it happen?”
“No,” I breathed softly. “No, they were in another room.”
“How old are they?” he probed. “If you don’t mind me asking questions about them,” he quickly added.
“It’s okay,” I smiled sadly, noting that I was actually pleased that he was taking an interest and not just pushing me to the nearest exit. “My eldest, Lizzie, is eight. Dylan is in the middle, he’s four and little Kate is turning three in a month.”
I suppose he must have seen something in my eyes as I spoke of them, because I certainly didn’t say anything particularly revealing. And yet, he observed, “They mean the world to you, don’t they?”
Tears seeping onto my cheeks, I tried to sniff them back but couldn’t. “Yeah,” I blubbed. “I’d do anything for them. And I’m not going to let him take them from me.” As words gave way to more full blown weeping, Preston quickly wrapped an arm around me and tugged me close to him. He didn’t try to make me stop crying, he simply allowed me to release all of the emotion within me.
“We won’t let him,” he hummed, rubbing gently circles over the small of my back.
Chapter Eight
Love
An hour or so later, once the raw emotions had diluted, I felt embarrassed about the way I’d opened up to him. Preston was undoubtedly a wonderful man, but he was a man I’d known for less than two weeks. No matter how strong the attraction between us, he can’t have been ready for the wealth of confessing I’d just done.
But nothing was said for some time. We simply sat in mutual silence.
However, what began as a comfortable silence soon became awkward. What was he thinking? Did he wonder what the hell he’d gotten himself into? Did he wish he had never contacted me? The less emotionally charged I grew, the more self-conscious and anxious I became about what was roaming around in his mind.
Eventually, the desperation to know what he was thinking became too great. “I’m sorry I dumped this all on you,” I mumbled quietly.
“Don’t apologize,” he urged, shaking his head which was rested in the corner of the couch. “I’m glad that you told me.”
“Really?” I asked, lifting my cheek from his shoulder, so I could look squarely into his face. “Little too much, don’t you think?” I added, trying to lighten the moment with a smile that didn’t reach the rest of my face let alone my eyes.
“Well,” he conceded warmly. “I didn’t quite expect that,” he admitted quietly. “But I knew you had to be in some kind of trouble, and I really am pleased you felt comfortable enough to speak to me.”
I offered him a shy, grateful and slightly more genuine smile. “I don’t really know why that is...” I mumbled. “Why I feel comfortable talking to you,” I added.
“I don’t think the ‘why’ really matters,” he insisted gently. “All that matters is that you did, and I want to help you.”
Shaking my head, the smile dropped from my face. “Look,” I sighed. “I appreciate it, really I do, but money isn’t going to solve the problem.”
“I’m not talking about money,” he replied, sitting forward and adjusting the glasses at the bridge of his nose. “I’m talking about legally.”
“Legally?”
“If your husband is serious about trying to take your children from you, I can help.”
I observed him for a moment, trying to assess whether he was serious. “You could do that?” I asked.
Grinning, he nodded. “I think so,” he assured me.
“But?” I babbled uselessly.
“I’m a corporate lawyer at the moment,” he admitted, his eyes moving toward his feet. “But before that, I practiced family law. So, I know a thing or two about child custody battles.”
Unsure what to say, I simply stared dumbfounded at him. His eyes were sincere, it was not an empty offer of help, he intended to follow through.
“Your husband hasn’t got a leg to stand on,” he quickly continued, perhaps misinterpreting my silence as concern over the case. “He can’t prove you’ve done nothing illegal and you’ve certainly done nothing that has affected the safety or happiness of your kids. If he tries to suggest you’re an unfit mother, he’s going to look like a fool.”
“But,” I
uneasily said, shuffling in the seat. “Paul’s got an army of powerful attorneys, they’ll pin something on me.”
“Surely, the only thing they can prove is that you’ve offered your services as an escort; a date for dinners, a friendly ear over a few drinks. There’s nothing illegal or immoral about that.”
“What if they find one of my clients?” I whispered. “What if they find someone who’ll testify to what I’ve done?”
“I don’t think any of your clients are going to want to be found,” he immediately assured me, shaking his head. “And no matter how much money your husband’s lawyers offer them, they sure as hell won’t want to publicly announce that they’ve paid for sex. They would be admitting to a criminal act.”
I wasn’t completely reassured, but I nodded slightly. He had a point. Many of my clients were married or in relationships; all of them, except Chris, had jobs - well-paying ones at that; they had reputations to consider, and had a lot to lose by admitting to our ‘business’ arrangements.
Preston nudged me from my contemplative silence, by resting his hand reassuringly on my knee. “It’s going to be okay,” he reminded me. “No matter what he throws at us, he won’t win.”
A grateful half smile did nothing to hide my doubt and I felt compelled to explain it. “He’ll fight dirty if he has to,” I softly said.
With a self-effacing tilt of his head, he grinned. “I can fight dirty if the need arises,” he muttered. Then, his features tightened and he looked at me with grave seriousness. “I won’t let him take your kids from you, Julia.”
Another lump was rising in my throat and I felt my bottom lip tremble. I bit down hard on it, both to stop the shaking and prevent a further flood of uncontrollable tears.
“Julia,” he repeated quietly. “Julia,” he said again, as if he was trying the name out for size in his mouth. His lips began to curve. “Julia,” he mumbled a third time, breaking into a grin. “Yeah,” he eventually sighed. “I think that works.”
I puffed out a breath of amusement, but couldn’t quite bring myself to share his broad smile. “Why?”
“Umm, because it fits,” he chuckled. “It’s you.”
“No, that’s not what I meant,” I rapidly corrected him. “I mean, why do you want to help me? Why would you go through all of this trouble? I’m a stranger to you.”
“Are you?” he asked, his chocolaty eyes focusing intently on mine.
Trying to swallow, my head moved in an indefinite dance of nods, shakes and shrugs.
“I know we haven’t known each other very long,” he added calmly. “I know it might seem insane, and believe me it’s not something I expected. I just wanted some company at that ball, but I didn’t... I didn’t bargain for what happened when I met you.”
I was almost scared to ask, but he remained silent, waiting for me to speak before he’d explain. My words came numbly, my mouth moving of its own volition and the breath coming shakily. “What happened?”
He smiled a little and then cocked his head to one side. “Do you really have to ask?” he countered.
“Well,” I wavered, stopping when tears threatened to spill over once more. Sniffing, I tried to compose myself, but was so acutely aware of the tightness in my throat that it was impossible to focus on anything else. “I know how I feel. I don’t really understand it,” I managed to whisper. “But I...” Eventually, I gave up the attempt to speak.
“I’ve fallen in love with you,” he whispered, his fingers moving tenderly over my shoulder. Then, gradually he dipped his head toward mine, his gorgeous, soft, wonderful lips drawing ever closer.
I’d thought I wanted him to say those words; believed that it would help make sense of my own strong emotions. Instead, it just scared me. He didn’t know what he was doing; what he was getting himself into. Once he had a chance to really think about it, he’d realize how insane it all was. He’d want a woman who hadn’t sold herself to strangers. As much as I wanted to believe I hadn’t changed, that I was still the pure unsullied Julia, it simply wasn’t true. I was tainted by what I’d done. Maybe Paul was right, the children shouldn’t be around me. But I certainly knew that I didn’t deserve to be loved by a good man; the best I’d ever met.
As his mouth met mine, I froze, passively accepting his kiss, but doing nothing in return. It prompted him to quickly pull away. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I...umm...think I’d better go,” I breathed.
His face continued to hover close to my own. “Go where?” he quietly asked, remembering that I’d said I had nowhere else to go.
“Hotel,” I shrugged.
“You don’t have to,” he replied, his left hand brushing the strands of hair that were curtaining my face behind my ear. “I’d like you to stay,” he added.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I responded, avoiding his eyes.
Gently, taking my chin in his thumb and finger, he forced me to look at him. “I know you’re scared,” he began solemnly. “You don’t know me that well, and you have no reason to believe that you can trust me.”
“I do trust you,” I interjected quickly. “I don’t know why, but I always have.”
A thin smile graced his lips before he continued. “Then, what are you scared of?” he asked.
“I...I...” I fumbled, sucking in labored breaths as I tried to put my thoughts into words and comprehensible sentences. “I’m scared of the way I feel,” I sighed. “The power of it, the fact that I have no control. Ever since I met you, I’ve been doing and saying things that a part of me knew I shouldn’t.” I barely paused for breath, before rambling onward. “But I was incapable of stopping myself. And the thing that scares me the most is that, at some point, you’re going to come to your senses and realize what a mistake this all is.”
“Woah, woah,” he mumbled. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, come on, Preston,” I muttered, shaking my head wearily. “Are you really going to want to be with me after everything I’ve done? You really want to love a whore?”
“I told you,” he quickly replied, “You’re not a whore.”
“You may not choose to use that word,” I argued. “But that’s exactly what I was.” After a beat of silence, I corrected myself. “That’s what I am.”
He was silent for what felt like an eternity. Neither of his hands moved and his face remained close to mine. He was thinking, trying to find the right words; because, I suppose, he thought his response was crucial. And he was right. But, fortunately for both him and I, he was a master at treading carefully. “Look,” he began, swallowing before fixing his eyes on mine and keeping them there throughout the next few moments. “I’m not going to pretend that I’m thrilled about what you had to do, but I know that you were desperate and you thought you were out of options.” He calmly moistened his lips and forged on. “I don’t blame you for the decisions you made, Julia,” he insisted. “I don’t think any less of you for them and I don’t think they make you unworthy of being loved.” Tenderly, he stroked the curve of my chin with his thumb. “I didn’t fall in love with you because of what you were doing. I didn’t fall in love with you in spite of it, either. I just love you, and I know that I would regardless of how we met.”
I wanted to ask him how he managed it; how he found the perfect words and the sincerity to say them with. If anything, his little speech made me feel even less deserving of him. However, rather than exacerbating the fear of his sudden change of heart, I was filled with a desire to prove that I would return that unconditional love. I would do everything in my power to be the woman he deserved.
“Are you okay?” he whispered, noting my quiet contemplating.
“I...” I breathlessly attempted to speak. “I don’t know how I got so lucky,” I softly explained. “But I do know that I’m not going to make any more stupid mistakes that I would end up regretting for the rest of my life.”
Preston looked worried, his eyebrows knitting together.
Quickly,
I opened my mouth again. “I’m not going to let my childish fears push you away,” I added. “I love you,” I said, fighting giggles of relief. The sound of those words felt good in my mouth, they sounded good in my ears. So good, they needed repeating. “I love you,” I grinned, feeling freer and more alive than I had in months, maybe even years.
His cute lopsided smile lit his face and created a sparkle in both eyes. “Then I think we can work through everything else,” he reasoned, his lips still distorted in joy.
Overwhelmed by affection for him, I grasped the front of his shirt in my right hand and tugged his face down to mine. I attacked his mouth with a passion, longing and tenderness that I’d felt unable to fully express before. There were no secrets between us anymore. He knew everything and it hadn’t made him run the other way. He knew the real me, I could now be the real me. I no longer had to pretend to be unaffected by his presence, I no longer had to fight it or remind myself that it would only end badly. In that instant, I had no idea how things would ultimately end, but I wasn’t going to let the possibility of happiness pass me by.
With a chuckle of surprise and a groan of delight, Preston quickly returned my kiss with fervor and soulful affection.
For a long time, we both simply reveled in that joining of lips. It was fiery at times, full of enthusiasm and need, but it wasn’t an overture for something more. We were enjoying that kiss for the pleasure it offered in and of itself, and it was all the more satisfying for that. It was a kiss of forgiveness, a kiss of promise and a kiss that seemed to mark a fresh start. For me, at least, that was certainly the case. For me, it was a kiss of offering. I was giving myself to him. Not just my body this time, something far more precious.
Chapter Nine
Good Morning
That kiss never really developed into anything more. I’d expected it to, perhaps we both did. However, upon reflection, that night seems more perfect because we didn’t make love. I think we were both exhausted, emotionally at least, and Preston had taken on his gentlemanly mantel once more. He made it very clear, through his actions rather than words, that he would not rush anything. In fact, when our mouths finally parted, he offered me his spare bedroom.
