The Escort

by Laura Marie Altom

  “Sorry to phone so late,” I said after exchanging general pleasantries. “But have you by chance heard from Nathan? He’s fallen off my radar.”

  “I’m sorry, I haven’t. I know he moved, but that was a couple of months ago, right?” Was it wrong that part of me happy-danced to know she wasn’t aware of his latest move? Yes, it was wrong, because if he had told her where he was living, maybe she could have then told me!

  “Well, actually, that place wasn’t working out, so he just moved again. But that was only a few days ago, and I don’t even know where his new place is. We talk all the time, and this isn’t like him.”

  “Now you’ve got me worried.”

  “Hopefully, he’s stuck somewhere and his phone died. Once he gets home, he’ll have a great story that we’ll laugh about over a great bottle of wine.” I was rambling and couldn’t seem to stop. “I know you two used to be close, and I thought if something’s wrong, he may have reached out to you.”

  “Carol, I’ve never heard you like this. Are you okay? Would you like me to come over? Liam’s decided he needs his commercial helicopter license, so he’s constantly begging me to let him fly me somewhere—thankfully, with his instructor. We had to temporarily move him into the guesthouse so the poor guy could live on-site. Anyway—if you need me, I can be right over, and you’d be making Liam happy in the process.”

  “As much as I hate letting down my boss, thank you, but I’ll be okay on my own.” A year earlier, I would have been all over Ella’s offer, but now, I just wanted Nathan. Where could he be? “Please call me, though, if you hear from him.”

  “Of course,” she said. “Although if he does call me, he’ll get an earful. Liam once pulled this disappearing crap, and it royally pissed me off.”

  How well I remembered.

  We said our goodbyes, and then I resumed pacing. Where could Nathan be?

  Chapter 19

  Nathan

  I needed a plausible story. Fast.

  Saturday night, thank the good lord Mitsy had fallen asleep before molesting me, but not before she’d caught me trying to call Carol, then pitched my cell into the champagne bucket. Sunday afternoon, we’d been too busy playing in Mitsy’s charity tennis tourney for her to either drink or get too maudlin about her hubby’s extracurricular activities. Sunday night, we’d played quite the game of hide-and-seek with my package. I’d lost count of the number of times she’d drunkenly tried getting her hand in or on my fly. Never had I been happier for a woman to pass out. More than anything I wanted to call Carol, but unfortunately, her number wasn’t stored in my head—just my busted-ass cell.

  Now, it was Monday morning, and I was trapped on Mitsy’s private jet. Fortunately, the mimosas had been strong and after a long weekend of partying, my client’s constitution was sagging. With any luck, she’d be out for the entire trip.

  Which, unfortunately, left me with far too much time to dwell on Carol’s pending wrath.

  As soon as she discovered I wasn’t in a body cast, the questions would start. Where had I been? Why hadn’t I called? On and on the grilling would go, and I was afraid I’d either snap or break—neither of which was acceptable.

  By the time I got Mitsy home and politely extricated myself from her octopus-grasp, reminding her yet again that there was still a chance that her marriage might work, it was pushing noon. According to my fictional new work schedule, my hours were eleven p.m. to seven a.m.

  Of course, I wanted to see Carol now, but to do that, I’d have to make the hour drive to her Palo Alto office, and considering how theoretically I no longer had a car, that could be a problem.

  Plan B was to run by Uma’s to grab a new phone, then fill out applications for legit jobs and work on a paper I had due for my online Ancient Cultures course.

  Lucky me, Uma wasn’t around, so I left a message with her guard dog du jour, and he promised she’d have a new phone messengered to my new address by five. Though I wasn’t thrilled to give her that address, I figured it was a necessary evil.

  I ended up sleeping on the lumpy sofa till a knock on the door woke me.

  It was a delivery guy with my phone.

  I signed for it, ducked back inside for my keys and coat, then ran through a downpour to narrowly catch the bus.

  I was back to running once the bus dropped me a half-block from Carol’s. The cold rain came as a shock after my couple of days in sunny Phoenix. I’d forgotten just how shitty San Francisco weather typically was. If not for Carol, I’d seriously be tempted to get the hell out of Dodge. But as long as I was with her, leaving wasn’t an option.

  I waved to the doorman, then headed up, wishing I’d brought flowers or candy, or at the very least her favorite ice cream.

  At Carol’s door, I knocked, then used my key card to let myself in. It would probably be at least an hour until she got home from work, so I figured I’d make her dinner out of whatever she had on hand.

  “Nathan?”

  I got a shock when she approached me from the bedroom. Her long hair was a tangled mess, she wore no makeup, and her eyes were red-rimmed as if she’d been crying. “Where have you been? I was worried sick. You can’t just do what you did Saturday night and then vanish. Do you have any idea what that did to my self-esteem?” She raised her hand to slap me, and I almost let her because I damned sure had it coming. But instead, I grabbed her wrist, turning her arm behind her back to draw her in for a kiss.

  I needed to kiss the rage right out of her. I needed to banish the fear and remind her of everything she’d been missing. “I’m here now, okay?”

  “No.” She bit the shit out of my lip. “It’s not even close to okay. Where have you been?”

  Here we go. I’m sorry, I thought, because for her own safety, I couldn’t say it. “Midway through my shift, I dropped my cell in a puddle and fried it. Then, the boss asked me to work a double, and since I need the cash, I figured I should go ahead and do it. By the time I got off, I went home to shower, but crashed. I didn’t wake up till this morning.”

  “You couldn’t have called from a friend’s phone? Or gee, I don’t know, maybe mentioned it during your whole text seduction routine?”

  What? Swear to God, my blood ran cold.

  “Are you seriously going to stand there and act like nothing happened? You can’t make me do something that outrageous without—”

  Because inside, I was fucking screaming, I kissed her quiet.

  I needed time to think above my pounding pulse.

  What the hell was she talking about? Even if I’d wanted to dirty text her—which, of course, I typically would have—I couldn’t have. Mitsy had dumped my phone in the champagne bucket. Could Uma have known my phone was toast, and then taken advantage of the situation? Could she be that twisted? Fuck.

  “Stop trying to distract me.” Carol shoved me away. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more insulted.”

  “Look…” I planted my hands on her hips to reel her back against me. I needed her close enough that I could physically protect her. “I’m sorry I didn’t call. I’m a doofus, and don’t have your number memorized. When my phone gave up the ghost, it took your digits along for the ride. I’m sorry, okay?”

  “Promise me one thing…” She grasped my chin, drawing my gaze to hers. “Promise me, Nathan, you really were at work and not back to doing your escort thing for Uma.”

  “Trust me,” I said, answering in shades of gray. I couldn’t lie, but I couldn’t tell her the whole truth, either. Now that I suspected Uma had pulled some shady shit while I’d been out of town, I was more worried than ever about Carol’s well-being. When she left for work in the morning, Uma was going to pay for whatever she’d done.

  We locked stares, and for the duration, I held my breath.

  When she nodded, I finally exhaled, and then she took my hand, guiding me into her room. Outside, rain pelted the floor-to-ceiling windows. There were no lights on, and darkness cloaked the room.

  I helped her into bed, and
then stretched out beside her.

  She wore a T-shirt and sweats, and I skimmed my hand along her bare strip of abdomen. “You’re so soft.” I rested my head against her breasts. How many times over the weekend had I dreamed of being back here alongside her? She was my world. I’d do anything for her.

  The fact that Uma had done something shady made me crazy.

  The only thing keeping me from going on the attack right now was the fact that Carol needed me here.

  She twined her arms around me, strumming my hair. She made me feel wanted and protected and cherished when I deserved none of those things. This had to be about her, about showing her with my every touch how much meaning she adds to my life.

  I nudged her onto her back and then swept her T-shirt over her head. With rain clattering against the windows, I worshipped Carol’s body, kissing her collarbone and the sexy indentation at the base of her throat. I swept my explorations lower, to her full breasts, cupping them, kneading them, sucking hard enough to make her sharply inhale.

  Down, down I kissed a path to her abdomen, ringing my tongue around her navel while cupping her belly’s gentle slope.

  She writhed when I shimmied her yoga pants off, then tossed them to the floor. I nipped at her mound through a scrap of silk. Her panties were a veil, shrouding her from my view. Since I needed clear vision, I disposed of them, too, then nudged her legs farther apart. Once I’d spread her lips and tongued her clit, she bucked and groaned, pulling my hair. I fingered her, too, setting a nice rhythm—not so fast as to let her think she was guiding the show, but good enough that she knew she was the star. Despite the room’s chill, a fine sheen covered her, making her even more beautiful, and making me all the more determined to keep her safe from harm.

  She cried out, giving me the pleasure of feeling her quiver around me.

  I finger-pumped her long enough for her to come down, then fumbled to get my own clothes off and find a condom.

  After finally easing in, I kissed her long and hard. She dug her hands into my ass, urging me deeper. I was all too happy to oblige.

  Never had I felt more complete than I did when joined with her. She’d fundamentally changed me. Made me want so much more. I’d work harder on my classes and as soon as I’d paid off Uma, I’d settle into a real job that Carol and I could both be proud of.

  Pleasure numbed my thoughts until all that remained was following the natural rhythm of our bodies. I eased my hands under her back, drawing her up to deepen our latest kiss. I stroked my tongue against hers, drinking in her taste.

  And then the pressure was too great to contain. I held her, desperate to hold tight to this sensation. For seconds, we free-floated in zero gravity, only to ultimately plummet to earth, to reality, to the fact that my whole life was a lie, and the only one in line to get hurt was this amazing woman.

  “Whew…” She kissed me, then fell back onto her pillows. “After all the crazy things we’ve tried, who knew good, old-fashioned missionary could feel so damned amazing?”

  “No kidding…” Still inside her, I brushed the hair back from her cheeks and forehead. I needed to see all of her, to memorize every spellbinding feature of her face. “Want me to run a tub?”

  She nodded.

  Ten minutes later, wind drove the rain like pellets against the windows, and we lounged entwined in each other’s arms beneath steaming, orange blossom–scented water.

  —

  “I wish you didn’t have to go,” Carol said from the bathroom, where she’d commenced with her nightly facial routine.

  “You and me, both.” I hated leaving when my fictional night shift started.

  Even more than that, I hated carrying on this lie.

  Angling my back to the bathroom so if I heard her approach, I had time to put down her phone, I scanned her messages to see exactly what had gone down.

  Saturday night—allowing for the time difference—at around the same hour my phone bit it, she’d received a series of raunchy texts, encouraging her to put on a peep show for, I assumed, one or more of Uma’s goons. I wanted to hurl the phone through the goddamned window, but instead, carefully positioned it in its former spot on the nightstand.

  Let’s play a game.

  Do it. I see you—don’t ask how, just get naked.

  Nice work, baby. This will be our dirty secret.

  Fingertips pressed to my forehead, I struggled to grasp the enormity of what these messages implied. Either someone had been watching Carol from afar or, for all I knew, they could have the place bugged with full video surveillance. It was a given my old phone and new had features far beyond standard call and text.

  It sickened me to think this was all just a game to Uma—and that it had been from the start.

  Fueled by rage, I managed to keep my cool long enough to kiss Carol goodbye, then I took a bus to my apartment, only to walk through the rain to the garage where I kept the Bentley.

  I was surprised to find Uma’s home lit like a lighthouse in the storm. Funny. I’d once considered Uma my savior, but I now realized her to be a fucking siren.

  Cars lined the circle drive and narrow street.

  When I approached the formal front entry, a uniformed valet dashed around to my side. He held an open umbrella and when I emerged from the car, handed it to me along with a claim ticket for my ride. I thanked him before charging inside.

  Another servant took my dripping umbrella, and yet another stood by to brush rain from the shoulders of my shitty pea jacket. Judging by the muted conversation, laughter, clink of silverware against fine china, and Bach played by a sextet in the upstairs gallery, I’d walked in on a party. I strode toward the dining room where I’d spent countless hours on my lessons.

  “Sir?” A butler sort I remembered from his having brought me a few sandwiches intercepted my flight path. “Mistress Uma is entertaining. Would you be so kind as to allow me to inform her of your presence in a discreet manner so as not to disturb her guests?”

  “Um, let me see…” I paused just long enough to shoot him a go-to-hell glare. “No.”

  “Sir!” A chase ensued, but he apparently didn’t fear Uma’s wrath as much as he did mine. “Please.”

  Too late. The dining room had two double doors. I entered through the nearest, which was fortuitous, considering Uma sat at the far head of the table. I wanted her to get a good, hard look at me, to see I no longer cared if she allowed me to resign from her little enterprise. I was fucking done.

  “What the hell did you do?” I asked loud enough for the whole party to hear while I aimed for her.

  “Nathan…” Her serene expression pissed me off even more. “How nice of you to join us. I’ll ask Kingston to help you shower, shave, and find more appropriate attire.”

  I’d reached her and braced my hands on the back of her chair, leaning in close enough to whisper in her ear, “Fuck your appropriate attire. Your tub-time stunt went too far.”

  From my vantage, I watched her grip tighten on the arms of her chair.

  Though from the gallery the music played on, around the table, conversation stopped.

  All eyes were fixed upon the scene playing out with their hostess.

  Uma said, “I’m so sorry you won’t be able to join us.”

  From either side of me, two goons emerged from the shadows. I got one of them, with a hard right to the nose, before I was subdued. And by subdued, I mean tazed. Last thing I remember before a momentary blackout was a fountain of blood streaming from the goon’s face onto Uma’s fancy-ass table. The sight made me smile.

  —

  I woke in the bed of my old apartment—the one that belonged to Uma. I had been dressed in navy silk pajamas, and every inch of my body ached to the point I could hardly move. I glanced down to find a handwritten note safety-pinned to my chest:

  You’re done when I allow you to be done. xoxo

  Beneath the charming sentiment was a scarlet kiss. Fuck.

  I tore it off, wadded it up, and then threw it. And t
hen pain from even those simple movements sprung tears to my eyes. What the hell?

  I painstakingly undid the first few buttons on the pajama top to find my chest had been beaten until my skin looked tie-dyed with bruises. After grunting my way out of bed and into the bathroom, I stripped to find my entire body ruined, though my face remained unmarred.

  Outside, hard rain pelted the windowpanes. The gloom made it impossible to tell if it was dusk or dawn. I had to call Carol, but what would I say? More lies? Tell her I got mugged, but my attacker was so charmed by my good looks that he opted to not punch the shit out of my pretty face?

  I sighed, and then hobbled beneath the walk-in shower’s spray, standing there until hot water eased the pain.

  When the water ran cold, I wrapped a towel around my hips, then limped into the kitchen for ibuprofen.

  The clock on the fridge door said it was five thirty, which meant I was once again screwed with Carol.

  I limped back into the bedroom to find my phone had been thoughtfully placed on the nightstand. I’d missed a couple of texts from Carol, but her sexy banter made me feel far worse than if she’d ripped me a new one.

  I see how it is, Mr. Voyeur…LOL! You like watching all night, then sleeping all day?

  Still sleeping? Call me!

  Jesus Christ…I raked my fingers through my hair, only to wince when bringing my arm down. While I’d been out, Uma had played her mind game on Carol all over again.

  No matter how much I didn’t want to do it, I had to come clean with Carol—ASAP. This whole voyeur thing was wrong, and my fault, and my twisted stomach now hurt worse than my bruises.

  I crouched on the side of the bed, then hit the speed dial for her number.

  “Finally,” she answered after the first ring. “It’s about time you woke up. I missed you last night…” She lowered her voice. “Although your texts kept me plenty busy.”

  “Yeah, listen…About that, I—”

  “No, me first. Guess what?”

  I was in no mood for guessing games, but played along. “What?”