"Pool? Private beach? Luxury bathroom? Not sure what constitutes luxury in a bathroom. Quilted toilet paper?"
I smiled. "And a few more amenities I think you'll enjoy."
"What's the catch?"
I hesitated, not entirely sure how to continue. She took the pause as something sketchy.
She backed up again. "I take my clothes off on stage, but I'm not a whore. I think this conversation is over." She headed back to the crates of wine.
"Wait, Shay. I told you I won't touch you. I will even add that to the contract—
"There's going to be a contract?"
"It's always a good idea to have a contract if someone is being paid a large sum of money."
She stopped and turned around. "Who is getting paid a large sum of money?"
"You. I'll pay you. Like I said, it's complicated."
"I've got to get back to work." She backed up without taking her eyes off of me. I'd fucked up. My entire approach was wrong.
I pulled a business card out of my wallet and wrote down my address on the back. "I'm going to leave my business card here on this stack of pallets." I placed the card down. "In case you change your mind."
Just then, the door to the stockroom opened, and Rocky walked inside. His expression went from surprise to annoyance. Rocky didn't know much about Jack and me except that every few weeks we showed up in our expensive cars to drink beer and watch the dancers. His thick black brow arched in full suspicion. "Nash, you know I don't let my customers bother the dancers."
"I'm just leaving. Have a good day."
9
It was early fall, but the California sun was still high in the sky. And hot. The sand burned the soles of my feet as I headed back to the house with my chair and empty beer bottle. Sunlight reflected off the massive front window of my beach house, temporarily blinding me as I reached the stepping stones that led up the small hill of dark pink ice plants. I walked through the transparent gate at the corner of the Plexiglas fence that bordered the pool area. Back when I was still winning in the game of life, I'd come out on top in a bidding war for the once dilapidated three thousand square foot beach house. Everyone interested in high end real estate understood that the house was a diamond in the rough. Especially with its prime location just feet from the ivory sand on one of California's best beaches. With some major remodeling inside and out, I had turned the place into a sleek, modern architectural marvel. It was my gem on the sea, the first house I ever bought. I'd had multiple offers to buy the place for three times what I paid for it, but I had no plans to sell it.
Unfortunately, even my incredible gem on the sea couldn't bring me out of my dark mood. I was mad as hell at myself for approaching Shay the day before. And when Rocky stepped in and put an end to the conversation, it had dawned on me that I was still in failure mode. It seemed lately, I couldn't do anything right.
Four beers and no lunch had only made my mood worse. I walked into the kitchen, a maze of smooth white quartz and high gloss steel, and opened the refrigerator. Half a roast chicken and a leftover burrito from my favorite Mexican restaurant were the only edible items, and edible was a loose term considering I couldn't remember eating either food at any time in the last week.
The doorbell rang. I dropped the old food into the trash and headed to the front door. Kimberly was leaning against the porch column, talking on her phone. My no strings attached friend was exactly what I needed right now.
"I'll see you soon, Dad. Bye." Kimberly dropped the phone into her purse and flashed her brilliant white teeth at me.
"You're a fucking sight for sore eyes." I grabbed her hand and pulled her into the house. Normally, she would have slipped right past me, halfway to being naked before she even reached the hall. Instead, she lingered in the entryway.
I turned back to her. "Want a drink first?"
She rolled her plump lips in. It seemed she had something to tell me. Instead of words, she held up her left hand. A bright diamond and platinum ring sparkled on her finger.
"I'm engaged."
I laughed but cut it short when I saw that she was serious. "Congratulations," I said hesitantly. "I guess I had you all wrong. I figured tying yourself down to one man was the last thing you wanted . . . or needed."
"Turns out, I had myself figured wrong too. And just because it's one man, it doesn't mean I can't still get tied down." She walked closer and kissed my cheek. "I'll take that drink." She headed into the living room, and I walked to the wet bar to pour her a martini.
Kimberly sat on the couch and crossed her long legs as I walked toward the sofa. It was just a natural gesture, but I took it as a symbol that I was no longer part of her wild sex life. It was a major fucking blow.