Eighteen
Aidan
* * *
I was strangely calm, all things considered. I went home to my penthouse and changed into my workout clothes. I went to the gym in my building and did my usual routine of running and weights, pushing myself until I felt my muscles rip. Then I went back to my place, drank a protein shake, and showered.
I hadn’t planned the idea I’d sprung on Samantha, but as soon as it surfaced in my brain I knew it was right. Don’t get me wrong—the idea of the two of us shedding our identities in order to fuck was screwed up, and many people would likely disapprove. But it was the right idea for Samantha and me. I’d seen the certainty of that reflected in her eyes.
I liked to be with strangers. It seemed she liked the same thing.
Except this plan had a built-in failsafe. We already knew each other and—I hoped, at least—somewhat liked each other. We’d had three months of familiarity and a buildup of trust. For me, I wasn’t risking a night that I likely wouldn’t truly enjoy, with a woman who might demand more than I was willing to offer. And Samantha? She had more to risk than I did. A night with the wrong stranger could be embarrassing or humiliating at best, dangerous at worst. Women walked a tightrope that men never had to think about. With the plan I’d laid down, Samantha would get to play, yet know she was safe at the same time.
And she’d obviously liked the idea.
I wasn’t too worried she would get cold feet and change her mind. Samantha was nothing if not smart, confident, and brave. She wasn’t a pleaser and I’d never seen her waffle over a decision. She had a cool determination that most women would give a limb to have, which was one of the many reasons she was at the top of her profession. And in a work setting, I very much admired her calm.
Saturday night, though, I planned to break it.
I had come out of the shower and was drying myself off when my phone rang. It was the private detective I’d hired to look into the Egerton brothers.
“I got the payment,” he said when I answered. “Thanks for being so prompt. It’s what makes you one of my best customers.”
“You’re welcome,” I said, scrubbing the towel over my hair and dropping it on the bed.
“You sure you don’t need anything else? There were definitely a few unexpected pieces in the info I found. I can keep digging if you want.”
“No,” I told him. “I’m done. I’m going to drop it.”
“Really? That isn’t like you. I got the idea this was some kind of revenge thing.”
“It was, but I’ve thought better of it now. I’m going to let the matter rest.”
He sounded disappointed. Some of the tidbits he’d found really were juicy. “If you say so, Aidan. What are you now, forty? I think you’re getting soft in your old age.”
“I’m thirty-four, and fuck off.”
He laughed. “Have a nice weekend.”
“I plan to.” I hung up and looked at the phone.
I had lied when I said I was going to drop it. I had no intention of doing any such thing, but I didn’t want his services anymore. It doesn’t pay to have any one person know too much about you, especially if you’re hiring them. People you’re paying can always be bought by a higher bidder. It isn’t a fault of theirs, it’s just the way people are. You can’t buy loyalty, which plenty of ancient kings and current Mafia dons could probably tell you.
However, you don’t need paid loyalty when you have friends like mine. I thumbed through my numbers and dialed Alex.
“Howdy,” he said in a fake Texas accent when he answered, because he knew it sounded absurd and that it drove me crazy. I pictured him back in Dallas, sitting in his top-floor apartment, alone like I was.
“Are you bored?” I asked him.
“Always,” he replied. “Tell me you’re going to amuse me.”
“I have a side
project if you’re willing to take it.”
Alex knew me well, so it took him only a beat to catch on. “Does this have something to do with the Egerton brothers?”
“Bingo.”