“Why don’t we go back to watching our movie for a bit?” Tiffany suggested to Mikala. “Mommy can come too. She’s had a long day, and I'm sure she'd love to just snuggle with you for a while.”
I gave Tiffany a teary, appreciative smile and mouthed my thanks. She merely nodded, her eyes telling me that she'd wait to ask the questions buzzing around in her head.
After we finished the movie, Tiffany and I made dinner together. We still didn’t talk about what was bugging me, but Tiffany didn’t have to work that night so we could put it off until Mikala went to bed. Not for the first time, I was grateful for my friend. I didn’t like the idea of being alone with my own thoughts.
As we cooked and ate, Mikala filled in the gaps in conversation with exciting stories about her day and all the cute little observations about her life that kids her age were prone to. My baby had a vast imagination, so hers were often entertaining and funny, but today I couldn’t find it in me to do more than smile.
Tiffany was on me as soon as I’d tucked Mikala in and read her story. I motioned for Tiff to follow me back to the living room. Her concerned expression had matured into outright worry over the course of the evening. And if I had to guess, my depressed expression had dipped into the sort of heartbroken weariness that came with admitting that I should have listened to my gut and never gotten involved.
“Wine?” she asked.
I nodded. “Please.”
We sat at the kitchen table with two glasses of cheap Pinot Grigio, and she waited for me to talk. I didn’t quite know what to say, or where to start. She already knew some of it, so I decided that the best place to begin was with what I'd left out.
“When I was in Hawaii, I met Dorian’s cousin Kendall,” I explained. “Except I soon realized I’d met him before.” I looked down at my glass. “When I was with Elroy.”
Tiffany didn’t need me to say anymore. We’d become friends shortly after I moved here, and she knew what he'd convinced me to do. She'd never judged me for letting my husband pimp me out, and the moment I left him, she'd taken me in without a second thought. She was truly the best friend a person could have.
“So what happened today?” she asked, sticking to the heart of the matter. “Or did something come up with Dorian about Hawaii?”
I cringed and took a sip of wine. I hoped it would help fortify me. “He came to find me here,” I replied. “Kenny, I mean. He tried to ‘hire’ me, and I shot him down. I thought that would be the end of it. A misunderstanding based on my past. Embarrassing, but nothing more than that. Except today, he found me on the casino floor, and I had to be friendly with him because Earl would fire my ass if I snapped at a guest in the middle of the floor. I didn't like it, but it wasn't really a big deal. But then afterward...Dorian confronted me. He saw the whole thing.”
“When you say confronted you…” Tiffany narrowed her eyes. “Do you mean he got upset with you just because you were being nice to his cousin?”
“He and his cousins have this...thing.” I waved my hands in the air. “He and Enzo didn’t talk about it much, but I know they don’t get along. Something to do with his cousin’s side of the family being bought out of the company. So if I’m being friendly with his cousin, I guess that’s kind of a betrayal.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Did you explain to him what was going on?”
“No.” I sighed. “He asked if...” I forced myself to say it. “He asked if I was giving his cousin the same 'perks' I was giving him, and it just made me think of the past.” I swallowed hard, fighting back tears. “And it made me wonder if that was how he'd seen me all along. A perk. Not any different from the men I used to fuck for money.”
“I'm going to kill him.”
Before I could respond to her only half-joking statement, my phone rang. I tore it from my pocket, hoping it was Dorian. Maybe he'd realized how much he hurt me...but it wasn’t Dorian. It was Sinclair. I’d all but forgotten he even existed.
“I’ve got to get this,” I said to Tiffany. “Do you mind?”
She shook her head, scowling. “Go ahead. I'll just be here plotting ways to castrate and eviscerate that rich bastard.”
“Hello?” I answered as I stepped away from the table.
“Hello. How are you, Briana?”
Sinclair was always so polite. It was one of the things I appreciated about him. It would make what I knew I had to do easier.
“I'm good,” I said. “And yourself?”
“I'm faring well, thank you. I wanted to call and let you know that I'll be coming to town this weekend.”
I had to squeeze my eyes shut to say what came next. Turning away a man was one thing, but there was a host of other things I'd be turning away when I ended things with Sinclair. Money, namely.
But I needed to do this. It had gone on far longer than it should have, and now that I had a promotion on the horizon, I couldn't put it off any longer. At least neither of us had any illusions about the arrangement between us.
“We need to talk.” I kept my tone soft.
“That’s a phrase I haven’t heard in a long time,” he mused.
He told me that he preferred having an arrangement like ours, rather than dating normally, because it was easier for him. No rejection. No stress. No strings. He’d been married before and didn't want to get into something that complicated again. We had an understanding, but it was one thing to know it logically and something else to put it to the test.
“I’ve enjoyed my time with you, but things have changed. I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”
He was silent for a moment before asking, “Am I not providing for you well enough?”
He didn't sound hurt, merely curious, and the anxiety in me eased a bit.
“No, no, it’s not that. Like I said, some things have changed, and it wouldn't be fair to either of us to continue.”
I’d chosen to be vague because I didn’t want to explain that I was ending our “relationship” because it put a bad taste in my mouth. What I had with him wasn't like what I'd done in the past. He wasn't a trick I turned for a payout. But he wasn't my boyfriend either. Or my future. Some women would be okay with that, and I wouldn't judge them, or him, for it. It just wasn't what I wanted anymore.
“I understand,” he said finally. His tone was even, but it always was. It was impossible to tell what he was feeling. I suspected that was either a product of his marriage or part of what had ended it.
“You do?”
“Of course,” he replied. “I knew it wouldn’t last forever.” He paused for a moment, then added, “I hate to bring it up, but your rent–”
“I understand,” I said quickly. “And I hope you know how much I appreciate all of your help, both with rent and with Mikala's school.”
“I do. Are you going to be okay?”
I knew he wasn't asking about my emotional state, but rather the bills he'd taken care of while we were together. “I will.”
“Briana?”
“Yeah?”
“If you change your mind, you have my number.”
“Take care.” I ended the call and went back to where Tiffany was waiting.
“So?” she asked as she took my hand and squeezed.
I looked over at her and smiled faintly. “He took it pretty well.”
“That’s good.” She smiled, looking relieved for me. “I’m proud of you.”
If only that were enough to make me feel better. I loved her for it, but I knew I'd appreciate it even more once my heart stopped hurting.
“I’m going to head to bed.” I put on my best fake smile, willing it to travel up to my eyes so that I wouldn’t worry my best friend. She wished me a good night even though her expression said she knew I was still hurting. A moment later, I was in my bedroom, thinking over this change in my life.
Things were going to be a bit tighter without Sinclair's help, but I also felt that I had more room to breathe. The shame I’d been carrying around was lighter, though I
doubted that burden would ever dissipate entirely. It was something I’d just have to live with.
Like missing Dorian.
31
Dorian
She ran from me. Briana turned around and walked away from me. And I stood there like a complete idiot, letting the girl of my dreams escape.
But what else could I do? She hadn't said anything in her defense. That was more damning than anything else.
We weren't exclusive, as far as I knew. Or at least we'd never mentioned being exclusive. But I thought she felt the same as I did. And my cousin? My fucking asshole of a cousin?
I needed to get to the bottom of what happened between them. I needed to know if it was even worth my time to pursue her. Briana might not have anything to say, but Kendall sure as hell would. I'd make sure of it.
I bribed the guy at the front desk to give me Kendall's room number, then headed through the crowded casino floor to the elevator. My hands were practically shaking, and I felt sick to my stomach. I couldn't stop thinking about what Briana and Kendall may have done together. Even if we'd never discussed exclusivity, how could she go to him? It was worse than when I thought about Enzo being able to seduce her.
And the worst part was, I was more worried about what he was going to do to her. Kenny had been my enemy for as long as I could remember, and I knew he pursued her because of me. He'd hurt her because of me. He was the nastiest fucker in the family, hands down. Too lazy to do any honest work but willing enough to put forth the effort when it came to manipulation and revenge.
I banged my fist against Kendall's door not caring if I caused a scene. A couple minutes later, the door swung open to reveal my cousin, dressed in an off-the-rack suit but looking like he thought the world of himself. As per usual.
“Cousin.” He greeted me with his usual smarmy smile. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
My response was an elbow to his gut as I barged into his room, not bothering to give him a chance to tell me to leave while I was still in the hall.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
He pushed the door closed and walked toward me with steady, even steps. He was trying to play the sort of big man he'd never be, but it was plain as day that he was quaking in his boots at my sudden appearance.
He lifted an eyebrow, feigning confidence. “Shouldn't I be asking you that? After all, you're the one who barged into my room. Maybe I should ask security.”
I set my jaw and resisted the urge to knock him out. “What the fuck are you doing in Las Vegas, Kenny? I won't ask twice.”
“I'm just seeing the sights, same as anybody else.” He shrugged and detoured to the bar, where he started to pour out two drinks.
It would be nothing short of a miracle if I managed to stop myself from smashing one of the glasses against his head.
“And do those sights you're seeing have anything to do with Briana?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.
His lip curved at the side, eyes half-closed with amusement. “Perhaps.”
My thin thread of control snapped. I strode toward him, knocking aside the drink he'd been about to hand me. I grabbed the collar of his shirt and slammed him hard against the wall. His skull smacked it with a loud crack.
I snarled at him. “Tell me why you're here. You have five seconds before I start breaking bones. I don't give a damn that we're technically family.”
Kendall's smug exterior withered. He'd always been a coward; he was just good at hiding it most of the time. His face grew pale, eyes darting left and right to try to find an escape route. But I was bigger and stronger. And I was pissed.
“I just wanted to see if she'd be faithful to you, that's all,” he whined. “I swear I wasn't trying anything.”
“Have you slept with her?”
His eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but he didn't answer. I smacked him against the wall again and shouted the question. “Have you slept with her?”
His voice was barely a squeak. “Not recently.”
Something dark and heavy filled my chest. I'd been pissed off before he confirmed it. Now I was livid.
“What do you mean not recently?” My voice, cold and low and dangerous, sent a visible shiver of fear through him.
“I mean that I slept with her in the past, but it was years ago.” He winced and glanced down to where the neck of his shirt was digging into his throat. “Can you let me go? I'll tell you whatever you want to know. You don't need to throttle me.”
Reluctantly, I let him down. He bent over, wheezing dramatically, and rubbed a hand along his sore neck. After what he just told me, I didn't feel the slightest bit guilty about it.
“Speak,” I commanded.
He put up a hand to signal he needed another moment. I rolled my eyes impatiently and went to the bar to pour another drink. By the time he was ready, my mouth tasted of smoky scotch, but I wasn't enjoying it.
“Six, six-and-a-half years ago, I came here with Nicolas,” he began. “While he was in meetings, I went out to have a little fun. There was this guy in the hotel bar, talking big. Blond guy, tall.”
I narrowed my eyes and waved my hand at him to continue.
“He said he had a girl. Eighteen. Pretty. And new.”
My hand tightened around the glass. This couldn't be going where it sounded like it was going.
“I didn't find out until after that she was his wife. The track marks on his arms were evidence as to why he was pimping her out.” Kendall risked a glance up at me. “When I came back three years ago, I called him again and...” He ran his hand through his hair. “A couple months later, he told me she'd left him.” He shrugged. “Guess I was one of her first and one of her last.”
My stomach turned. I slammed the glass down on top of the bar, but it didn't break. I wondered if I should slam it again. He had to be lying. Briana would've been pregnant or just had her daughter when he claimed to have been with her the first time. And that would also mean that Briana had been working as a prostitute for at least three years. Sweet, beautiful Bri.
I shook my head. “You're fucking with me so that I get distracted and don't beat your face in for messing with my girl.”
“Your girl?” he asked, smirking. “Awfully possessive of the woman you've been given by the hotel for your patronage.”
I didn't tell him it wasn't like that, that she wasn't like that.
But if he was right, then maybe she wasn't who I thought.
Maybe she was just sleeping with me to keep me happy and to keep me coming back to her hotel. It’d worked, hadn't it? Fuck, it had worked so well that after a few days of being back in New York, I jumped on a plane back to Vegas just to see her, spending shitloads of money to be near her.
“If you don't believe me, I've got a little something I can show you...” Kendall staggered to his feet and made his way over to the bar to grab the drink he'd poured for himself before our altercation. “The husband filmed us. Now he's come out of the woodwork threatening to show the video to people if I don’t cough up money for him. It’s why I’m here. To get it.”
I felt even sicker than before. Even if Briana had been fooling me this entire time just to get business for the hotel, she didn't deserve to have her private past exploited with such malicious intent. Nobody did. I wanted to strangle that Elroy asshole with my bare hands, and maybe that was just what I'd do.
If what Kendall was saying was true.
“Show me.”
He started to shake his head. “Come on, man. Are you sure you want to see–”
“Show me the fucking video!”
He scuttled over to his bed and grabbed the phone lying by the pillow. When he made his way back over to me, there was a video filling the screen. I could clearly recognize Kendall despite the low quality. He was on his back with a woman straddling him. She looked vaguely like Briana, but so did tons of other beautiful women from the back.
“Show me a part where I can see her face.”
“Uh, there isn't one,” he sai
d. “But she's got that tattoo, see? A rose right there. And the last time I...uh...she had a new one. A date on her hip.”
I told myself that he could have seen those tattoos in Hawaii when she wore a bikini, but when he pointed at the image again, I could see a little smudge that still looked enough like a rose for me to be forced to admit that Kenny was telling the truth.
My Briana wasn't who I thought she was. I was starting to wonder if I'd ever known her at all.
And if I'd ever been more than a client to her.
32
Briana
Tiffany and I settled down to watch a movie before we turned in. I wasn't ready to be by myself just yet, and she clearly sensed that. I felt bad. It was her night off, but instead of going out and enjoying herself, or getting to spend some quality alone time, she was looking after her sullen roommate. But I was too appreciative of the company to tell her I'd be fine on my own. She'd have seen through the lie anyway.
It was no surprise when she chose Mamma Mia, the movie she claimed to watch every time she was sad. I had to agree. It was difficult to be glum when I watched it. Beautiful Greek scenery, catchy songs, and a fun romp of a storyline made me almost forget that Dorian even existed. Okay, not almost. Maybe not even slightly. But I was still feeling better about life by the halfway point when there was a firm knock on the door.
“I'll get it,” I said with a sigh. I wasn't in the mood to speak to anybody, especially considering it was most likely Elroy, but Tiffany had run interference for me with him more than enough over the years. Since I was already feeling pretty low, there wasn't much else he could do to make me feel worse.