A Million Dirty Secrets (Million Dollar Duet 1)

What had just happened? He was all Richard Gere sexy and chivalrous one minute, Attila the Hun tyrannical the next.

“So I guess now we’re back to the whole ‘I bought you and you’ll do as you’re told’ thing?” I asked, stung once again by his rejection.

“We never left there. I said I want you to feel good, but that doesn’t change anything. I just wanted you to know that I’m not a total bastard.” He still refused to look at me.

“Yeah, well, I disagree,” was my only response. If he could act the part of the authoritarian boss, then I could certainly act the part of the disgruntled employee.

I removed myself from his lap again and climbed out of the hot tub. In my rush to find him, I hadn’t thought to grab a towel, so when I saw his draped over the back of a nearby lounge chair, I took it for myself. I heard him mutter an expletive behind me, but I didn’t think it was over the stupid towel. Regardless, I didn’t bother to look back at him before I wrapped it around my torso and went back into the house.

Of course he was right. Not about him not being a total bastard, but about nothing having changed. I had been stupid and naïve to think that his kind words during his momentary lapse meant he actually had a heart. I mean, what sort of knight in shining armor runs out and buys a whore for his own selfish purposes anyway? Regardless of the fact that he wanted me to feel good as well. That was only something else he got off on—knowing he was so good that he could command total control of my body when I’d lost all ability to control it myself.

Back in the room, I jumped into the shower, leaning against the wall as the water washed away my tears of rejection. What the hell was I doing? I’d thrown myself at him, practically attacking the man who was supposed to disgust me. And why? Because he gave great head? I was the disgusting one. He was supposed to be the predator and me his prey. Yet I was carrying on like some crazed nymphomaniac.

And where did I get off, getting off while my mother, the sole reason I’d done this in the first place, was lying at home in her bed, probably dying? I hadn’t even called to check in, for Christ’s sake. I didn’t think it had anything at all to do with the distraction that was Noah Crawford, but maybe more with my shame, with a fear that if I talked to my folks they’d somehow know what I’d done. Of course that was silly. The fact of the matter remained that I had no clue if they’d found my mother a donor or if the surgery had been scheduled yet. I knew Dez would call me if there was something seriously wrong, but for all intents and purposes, my parents thought I was in New York getting an education, not right under their noses in Chicago getting my freak on. They were probably worried to death that I hadn’t called.

I shut the water off and stepped out of the shower. I could hear Noah mumbling a string of profanities from his closet, and I stifled a giggle. Apparently he didn’t like my organizational skills. Within minutes, I heard him slam the closet door.

“I’ll be in the goddamn car! If you know what’s best for you, you won’t keep me waiting!”

With that, another door slammed and he was gone.

My towel still wrapped around me, I grabbed my cell phone and sat on the side of the bed. Just one push of a button and two rings later, my father’s voice came through on the other end.

“Lanie, sweetie. What’s wrong?” Mack’s tired voice sent a pang of guilt through me, and I wanted to cry.

“Nothing’s wrong. Can’t I just call my parents to check in?” I asked, trying to sound irritated, in an attempt to keep the sadness out of my voice.

“Er, yeah, of course you can. How’s the Big Apple treating you?”

“Fine. My classes are intense, and one of my professors is a gigantic bastard,” I answered, only slightly lying. Okay, so I was doing some serious lying, but technically, there really was someone in authority over me who was educating me. Just not the sort of education my parents thought I would be getting.

“Yeah, well, keep your nose to the grindstone and stay away from all those frat parties and you’ll do fine, kiddo.”

“Mack, you sound tired. Are you getting any rest at all?”

“I get enough.” He sighed, used to hearing me nag him about his own health. “She needs me, ya know?”

“Yeah, I do. How is she?” I asked in a more somber tone.

“Mom’s hanging in there. She’s awake if you want to talk to her. It might actually make her feel better. In fact, she’s got some good news for you.”

“Yeah, I’d love to hear her voice.” He didn’t need to know just how true it was.

I could hear him saying something in the background and then the shuffling of bedcovers as he handed her the phone.

“Lanie? Is that you, baby?” My mother’s voice sounded weak.

“It’s me, Mom. How are you?” I choked out.

“Meh, I’m not so bad,” she laughed lightly. “Hey, I’ve got good news. An anonymous donor deposited a huge sum of money into our bank account. Can you believe it? Mack says it’s a scam, but I think it’s an answer to our prayers.”

“Oh, wow! That’s great, Mom,” I said, genuinely happy that I’d brought her a little bit of sunshine when all her days had been filled with gloom.

She started a coughing fit, and Mack had to take the phone away from her, but not before she managed to cough out, “I love you, baby.”

“Is she okay?” I asked my dad, concerned.

“She’s fine. Those fits hit her sometimes when she tries to talk too much.”

“So, good news about the money, huh? Do me a favor and don’t try to overanalyze it or anything,” I said. “She needs that money. I don’t care where it came from. When is she scheduled for surgery?”

“That’s the thing, Lanie.” I heard a door close in the background and assumed he had left the room, not wanting her to hear the rest of our conversation. “Having the money is great, but it doesn’t do a damn bit of good if she doesn’t have a donor. There are so many people ahead of her … I don’t know if it will be in time.”

My God! That thought had never even occurred to me.

“Don’t worry, Dad. Miracles have a way of happening when we least expect them.”

“You might be right.” I could still hear the doubt in his voice.

“I know I am,” I affirmed. I’d managed to get the money; somehow I’d manage to get her moved up the transplant list, too. There had to be a way. I refused to believe that the universe would let me put myself through all this only to let her die in the end.