Текст книги "Sexy"

Автор книги: J. A. Huss

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

I stand up at the sound of Fletcher’s voice and bump into his back, that’s how close he’s hovering.

“Fletcher,” I whisper. “Keep your voice down. This is my new friend, Walker. Walker, this is—”

“Nice to see you again, brother.”

“Brother?” And that’s when I see the beaded silver chain around Walker’s neck and the other half of what is probably the grandfather’s dog tags.

“Fuck you,” Fletcher spits out. “We stopped being brothers nine years ago. Come on, Tiffy, we’re done here.”

“Is this your disappointing date, Tiff?” Walker says, standing up and staring straight at Fletcher. “The one you walked out on?”

“Um, I’m not sure what’s happening,” I say. But Fletcher has a grip on my hand and he’s already pulling me through the bar towards the door. Everyone is looking at us, and the heat of embarrassment creeps up my neck and flushes my face.

I look down at my feet as I’m tugged back out into the parking lot. The limo is gone, I’m sure not expecting us to leave so soon. And the parking lot is packed, so I doubt it found somewhere close by to wait. Fletcher pulls me along the asphalt, not saying a word until we reach the edge of the golf course and he walks me into the woods. We follow a dirt trail until the sound of people and traffic recede, and then he lets go of my hand and grabs his hair with both fists.

“What the fuck were you doing with him?”

“What? You sent me in there to flirt with a guy. How the hell was I supposed to know he was your brother?”

“I sent you in there to flirt with Jim. The guy at the bar. You blew him off and made a beeline for my fucking brother!”

“I didn’t know he was your brother! What is your problem? And why did you have someone in there? Did you set me up?”

“Tiffy,” he says, taking a firm grip on my upper arms and shaking me a little. “What kind of man do you think I am? I would never send you into a bar to pick up a stranger. Jim is the guy who works with me. He’s there to play a role and watch over you. I would never put a girl in danger like that. It’s all controlled. It’s all set up. It’s all—”

“Fake,” I seethe. “Everything about you is fake, Fletcher. Not one thing is real, is it?” He just stares at me, that tongue of his doing a dance against his top teeth.

“Well?”

He shakes his head at me and pulls out his phone. “Roger, we need to be picked up. South entrance, near the putting green.” And then he ends the call and starts walking the way we came in.

“Fletcher?” I call out.

“Follow me, Tiffy. Now.”

“No,” I shout. “No! I’m not going anywhere with you until you tell me what the hell is going on. Is this matchmaking thing fake too? Do you plant men for these girls to reel in, so you can pull it off? Are their relationships fake? Did you sell each girl to the biggest bidder? What kind of men do they marry? Foreigners looking for a green card? You’re some kind of sex slaver! So when will they find that out? After they give them their hearts? After those few get married? Will the guy get pissed off one night and tell her their whole life is fake?”

Fletcher turns back to me slowly, his face nothing but anger. “Don’t pretend like you know me. And don’t,” he seethes, “accuse me of fraud.”

“Then why was that guy there to meet me?”

“I told you,” he says in a lowered voice. “To keep you safe.”

“So I was supposed to flirt with him. And then what, Fletcher? Was I supposed to win or lose that game?”

He just stares me down.

“Lose, I take it. So you could be the good guy and come to my rescue. Make me feel better about my failure? God, you’re sick.”

“You don’t even want that guy. So what do you care? If it was Cole, it would be real.”

“How do you know? You’re just a conman, Fletcher. You trick people. You lie and you cheat. I’m done with this, OK? I’m going back to San Francisco the first flight I can get. And just fuck you, OK? I’ll send someone to replace me and they can decide what happens.”

I start walking back the way we came, and he reaches out for my arm as I pass him.

“Don’t,” I say, yanking my arm away. “Don’t even touch me. You’re everything I thought you were that first night at the show. Everything and more. You’re the most pathetic mess of a man I’ve ever met, Fletcher. You’re nothing but a pretty face with a dark soul.”

Chapter Fifteen

 

“Come in,” I call to the knock at my locker room door in the gym.

“Helloooo?” Tiffy’s BFF, Claudio, calls as he peeks his head inside.

“I’m packing, asshole. I’ll be out of here when I’m done. So tell Miss Preston to calm the fuck down and—”

“Whoa,” Claudio says, putting both hands in the air. “Hold the phone, cowboy. Unpack your bags, take a deep breath, and put on your I’m-not-an-asshole hat because I told Tiffy you had one.”

“What?” I squint as he enters and closes the door behind him. “I got a pink slip in the email this morning. So I’m just gonna do everyone a favor and be on my way.”

“Plans have changed, Fletcher. Randall Preston is coming here tonight to see the show.”

“What?”

“And Tiffy asked me to come down here and ask you to stay for tonight. She says she will make sure you get a bonus if you stay.”

“Tiffy sent you?”

“Mm-hmm,” Claudio says, his lips pressed together tightly in a hard smile.

“She wants her old man to do the honors, or what? She wants to humiliate me in front of him to make herself look better? No fucking thanks.”

“It’s just one show, Fletcher. And he’s not coming to fire you. He’s coming because TravelXpress is going to be here to rate the hotel for a deal they are running next month online.”

I just stare at him.

“Have you heard of TravelXpress?” He looks stressed.

“Sure, it’s like a booking website. They charge a fee though, so I don’t use them.”

“They charge a fee, Fletcher, because they are the biggest online booking agent in the world. And they visit and review every hotel, every flight, every car rental company they put up for special promotions. Cole has managed to get the Landslide up for a review, and they are coming tonight. A five-star rating from TravelXpress would be a very big deal.”

“So now Tiffy needs me.” Bitch.

“They’re here to see the show too. It’s the headline act, so if they rate you five stars, it could be a boon to your… career.”

I laugh at his hesitation to call what I do a career. “Can you be any more condescending?”

Claudio stares at me for a minute and then lets out a deep sigh and turns away. “There’s more, Fletcher. And I shouldn’t tell you this, but you need to understand. Mr. Preston is leaving Tiffy this hotel. It’s all she’s going to get in the will.”

“Will?”

“He’s dying, Fletch. He’s got an inoperable brain tumor and was given six months to live. And that was five months ago. He’s deteriorating fast and he’s made some… unusual decisions about his money in the past six months. For one, Tiffy will get this hotel and nothing else. Not even her trust fund. She will be prohibited from selling the hotel for ten years. If she can make it work, she gets the trust fund once it matures. If she sells it, or it goes bankrupt, she loses everything.”

“What kind of asshole does that to his kid? Jesus Christ.”

“I know what you’re thinking,” Claudio says, shaking his head. “But you’re wrong. I’ve known Mr. Preston most of my life. And I know why he’s doing this. He talked it over with me before that brain tumor was ever diagnosed. So it’s not some whim from an eccentric dying man. It’s got solid logic behind it.”

“So Tiffy wants me to save her hotel so she can cash in on the trust fund money ten years from now? Fuck that.”

“Tiffy doesn’t know, Fletcher. She has no idea he’s made these changes to the will. He sent her here to take things over and learn the ropes before he dies.”

“You just said she sent you down here to beg me to stay.”

“She did, but only so when her father gets here, he won’t be disappointed in her. She wants the hotel to get a good rating, but not for the reason you think.”

“Ah, I see. She wants some bonus money, I get it.”

Claudio grunts. “Wow. You really are an asshole.”

“I just call it like I see it.”

“She doesn’t know he’s dying, Fletcher. She doesn’t know the will has been changed. She doesn’t know anything. All she knows is that the hotel will be rated this weekend and she wants to make him happy. She knows he’s sick, he had a small stroke and a heart attack last year and some other minor things. But he’s been lying to her. He says it’s stress. That his heart is weakening. Things like that. They worry people, but they don’t make them break down and be sad. And when she finds out he could die any moment, she will break down. Tiffy is not Mr. Preston’s biological daughter. Her mother, Tessa, met him at one of the Preston Resorts in New York City where she was a waitress. Tiffy was four and they were living in a hotel fifty blocks away, so her mother would bring her to work and hide her with the maids. The hotel manager found out when Tiffy took some toys from a room while she was waiting for her mother to finish work. Tessa was about to be fired when Mr. Preston stepped in and saved her job. They became friends. He adored Tiffy. Treated her like a daughter. When they married three years later Mr. Preston decided to adopt her. He’s been a good father, Fletcher. Her mother died a while back, and Randall never wavered in his love and support of Tiffy.”

“Then why cut her out of the will, Claudio? It’s fucked up.”

“It can’t be helped. Mr. Preston was a lot older than Tessa when they married. In fact, he’d been married three times before. He’d resigned himself to the fact that he’d have no children, he’d never remarry, and he pledged his entire estate to a multitude of charity funds. They’re counting on him to deliver. And he’d never go back on a pledge.”

“So Tiffy is left with nothing.”

“Nothing but this hotel. And she doesn’t know it yet, but she’s worked for him since junior high school and he’s been investing her paychecks this whole time. It was enough to purchase the Landslide a few months ago. He’s trying his best to set her up for success.”

I rub a hand down my face as I take all this in. “And now he’s dying?”

Claudio nods. His face is very sad.

“And Tiffy doesn’t know?”

“No. Nothing. Not even that she owns this hotel. Not the part about losing her inheritance. None of it.”

God. Life is fucked up.

“And I know you two are in some kind of argument, but Fletcher, she needs this to go well. Not for the hotel, don’t think that’s why I’m here begging. She needs to please her father. All she wants in this world is to make him proud. And if you leave, the show will fail, the hotel will get a subpar rating, and she will feel like she’s failed him. She’s a sweet girl, Fletch. You have to see that.”

“She is,” I agree. “I think she’s genuine. And nice. But she doesn’t believe in me, Claudio. She thinks I’m scum. So why should I care if she gets her wish? Why the hell does her happy ending have to depend on me when all she sees when she looks at me is a conman?”

“I understand,” Claudio says. “I do. But… just give it some thought. Just take a few hours to think things over. Don’t pack yet. Please.”

I look at him and see a true friend. Tiffy is lucky to have him on her side. He loves her. He just wants to protect her from the reality that will come crashing down soon enough. He wants to give her one more win before that happens. “I’ll think about it.”

“Thank you,” he says, backing up towards the door. “Thank you.” And then he turns and leaves.

I sit down on the cold wooden bench alongside my locker and put my head in my hands.

Nothing is ever what it seems.

Katie, the girl I put under contract. She’s perfect on the outside, but so damaged on the inside, she paid me money to fix her.

Tiffy, rich beyond belief. Well-educated and polite. A daddy’s girl from top to bottom. And her heart is about to be broken in teeny-tiny pieces. I can see that coming. I can tell she loves her father from the few times she’s mentioned him in conversation. She does care what he thinks. His opinion of her is the one thing that defines her. Just like the opinion of that asshole who hurt Katie is the one thing that defines her.

I can see why Tiffy wants Cole. And not because he’s rich and would take care of her. Especially if she has no idea her inheritance was never hers. I think she likes Cole because he’s dependable. A mountain that stands tall and strong in a valley filled with storms. She needs to feel safe. And even though Randall Preston has provided her with that since she was a small child, there is still that feeling deep down inside her that knows.

It can all be taken away in an instant.

I slam my locker closed and walk out. I walk past all the rich assholes who feel the need to be perfect so strongly that they work out while on vacation, and then make my way up the stairs to the lobby.

I spy Tiffy talking to the people at the front desk. She’s dressed much like she was yesterday. Cream slacks instead of tan. The shoes are high and fancy, but they are a light peach color, like her flowing blouse.

Everything about her screams perfect.

But she doesn’t feel perfect. Even I see that.

She’s afraid. And she’s right to be afraid.

She spots me looking at her and opens her mouth, like she might call out for me. Ask me to help her with this show tonight. Ask me to stay by her side.

But then she presses her lips together, straightens her posture, and turns back to the front desk people.

I turn away too and walk towards the casino. You can get to the beach from the basement, or take the front stairs from the lobby. But I don’t want to walk past Tiffy, so I weave my way through the slot machines and tables until I get to the shops and take the back entrance.

I need to get the fuck out of here.

Chapter Sixteen

 

Lake Tahoe is one of the most beautiful beaches in the world. It’s been developed, sure. But it’s been protected too. There’s a lot of private land surrounding the crystal-clear water. And the Landslide has quite a bit—relatively speaking for such high-value real estate—on either side.

I kick off my shoes and walk diagonally across the sand. It’s packed with people. Families with kids. Newlyweds. Gamblers asleep under the alpine sun. I weave my way through them and head for the rocks on the west side of the hotel where I go to think things through when the doubts creep in.

And they always creep in, right? No matter who you are—no matter how successful your career, or your love life, or your family—those doubts are always there.

I climb over the slate-colored boulders until I find the spot. It’s just a little bit hidden from the hustle and bustle of the hotel beach, but it’s usually enough distance to get some peace.

The water here is so clear. When you think of a lake, you think of a mud-covered bottom. Reeds and silt muddying the water. But Tahoe is the closest thing you can get to clear blue water and not be in the tropics. The sand is white down below, as I gaze down from the rock, and a crawdad goes bustling by on the bottom.

When I was a kid it used to freak me out to know those things were down there with my feet, ready to pinch me. But I never got pinched. My childhood was good. My family was good. Almost everything was good up until I was eighteen. Then life reared its ugly head and taught me that there is no such thing as fair. My dad died that year. And the shit just kept coming. It never stopped. And my brother?

Seeing him yesterday was a shock. It’s been… I count the years on my fingers. Nine of them all told. Nine long years since life fucked me over again.

“Fletcher?”

Fuck. Tiffy must’ve followed me. A few seconds later she stumbles over and falls in the water, her arms flailing and her face shocked from the cold. It’s a mountain lake, after all.

She sputters out some water as she surfaces. “Oh, my God!”

“Hold on,” I say, scrambling over the boulder and then reaching down for her. She grabs my hand and I lift her up out of the water and let her scramble the rest of the way up the side of the rock. “What the fuck is on your feet?”

“Huh?” she says, her teeth chattering. “Shoes.”

“Four-inch heels, Tiffy? Really?”

“It’s what I had on. Jesus. I didn’t know there was a dress requirement. I called your name and you ignored me. And I really need to talk to you.”

“I didn’t hear you.” I picture her trying to walk across the sand in those things. I have to turn my head away to laugh. And I’m not ready to talk to her yet. Not after all those things Claudio told me.

“I j-just,” she stutters through her chattering teeth, “needed to ask you a…” Her eyes lower a little along with her mouth. Her frown is one of worry, not sadness. But if she only knew how much she had to be sad about. “A favor.”

Here it comes. “What favor?”

“Will-llllll you… will you do one more show with the Mountain Men? I know you quit, and you’re not obligated to give notice or anything. But I’d really appreciate it if you’d take my request into consideration.”

“I thought I was a fraud. A cheat. A liar.”

She scrunches up her face. Probably because she really thinks those things and can’t admit it right now. She needs me. “I don’t know. OK? I don’t know what you’re doing with those contracts. Or your many, many one-night stands. Or me, for that matter. You’re confusing, and calculating, and hiding something.”

“Hiding what?” I snap. I’m so sick of this shit. “You don’t even know me, Tiffy. I’m just some dumb stripper to you. I’m a conman, remember?”

She opens her mouth to protest, but I put up my hand and say, “Save it, all right? I’ll do the show. So you can stumble back to the hotel and get changed.”

She takes a deep breath and lets it out. Her arms are hugging her body, and her clothes are sticking to her skin. And then she reaches down and unbuckles her shoes and throws them in the water, one at a time.

What the fuck is this?

She slips her shirt over her head and then stands up on the rock and wiggles out of her pants. She lays them both out on the large boulder very carefully, and then sits and props her hands behind her, tipping her face up to the sun.

“What are you doing?”

“Drying off,” she says. “I’m not walking back there soaking wet. And this rock feels good. It’s hot and I’m cold. The sun is making me tired, and it feels good on my skin. I haven’t had a day at the beach in… hell, years.”

I wait for her to say more, but she’s silent. And then she lies all the way back, sighs deep, and closes her eyes.

I take off my shirt and do the same. The sun beats down on my stomach and it’s good. “I haven’t either, really.”

“Why not?” she asks in a sleepy voice. “You live here. I’d take advantage of it, if I lived here. It’s small, and peaceful. Not like San Francisco. All city blocks and bustling people on their way somewhere.”

“Busy, that’s all.”

“Well, I guess you have time now.”

I open my eyes and stare at her. She’s not pasty, but she’s not tan like me. Mine’s from an airbrush though, not the outdoors. I can’t even remember the last day I had off. “Not really. I have another job. Two actually.”

She open her eyes and meets my gaze. “What kind of jobs?”

“Just some side things.”

“Matchmaking?”

“I guess that makes three.”

“Why do you need so many jobs?”

“Money. I’ve got bills, just like everyone else.”

“You make pretty good money at the hotel. Five hundred dollars a show plus tips. What’s that bring in? Three or four hundred? So that’s not a bad living. Plus you get a free suite at the Landslide.” She props herself up on her elbow and stares at me. “Why do you need so much money?”

“Why do you need to know?” I say, picking a loose rock from the side of the cliff and skipping it across the surface of the lake.

“Because you don’t add up.”

“Neither do you,” I say, skipping another one.

“I’m really not complicated.”

“Your life sure is.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” She has no clue. None at all. “So your dad’s coming and you want the show to be perfect because the travel people are gonna rate the hotel.”

“How’d you know that?”

“Claudio told me this morning. He said you were worried about disappointing your dad. So I guess that’s why you’re here. For him.”

She sits up all the way now. “What’s that mean? You’re so damn confusing, Fletcher. You want to have sex with me, you want to fix me up with Cole, and you want to keep your job. But nothing about that makes sense.”

“It’s not really complicated, Tiffy. And anyone who wasn’t raised as a billionaire’s daughter would understand it. I need money. I have bills. I’m trying my best to make shit work out, so I do what I have to do. People like you just want to stick me in a box. Put a label on me. Make me into something I’m not. But the truth is, I’m not what you think.” I look up at her. “You have no idea who I am.”

“You’re right, I don’t. Because everything you’ve told me is a lie.”

“I never lied to you. And you know what? Just go back to the fucking hotel and tell Chandler I’ll be there. OK?” I get up and start climbing past her, but she grabs my arm as I try to pass over her body.

“Wait.”

“Why?” I growl. “So I can sit here and listen to you judge me? I’m not a fraud. I’m not a conman, for fuck’s sake. That brother of mine you were flirting with yesterday, he’s the conman. I’m just a guy doing the best he can. So you can stop now. Just stop acting like you care about any of this bullshit, and just go back to your perfect life.”

I regret those words as soon as they leave my mouth because I know her life is not what it seems either. I’m just saying these things to hurt her now. So I guess I am an asshole.

“Then tell why you want to fix me up with Cole.”

“You asked me to fix you up with Cole, Tiffy.”

“Why did you sleep with me?”

“And there it is,” I sneer. “You’re just like all the others. I promised fun, you agreed, and now you want to attach some secret meaning to it. It was a fuck, Tiffy. I like to fuck, like every other normal man my age. And it was fun. OK? You’re a good fuck. And if you were still interested, I’d fuck you again. But you’re not. That’s all there is to it.”

“Would you still do your job if I said you didn’t have to quit?”

“I just told you, I’ll do the show!”

“Not the show,” she says, gripping me tighter. “Your job with me.” Her face is serious. Even a little sad.

“Teach you to be sexy?”

She laughs. “I was wondering what word you used for it. Is that what it is to you then? Teaching girls to be sexy like you?”

“Like I always say… Sexy doesn’t sell, it’s for sale.”

She laughs again and it makes me smile. God, what will happen to her when her father dies? I can’t imagine. “You don’t need me to teach you that, Tiffy. I already told you, you’ve got sexy in spades.”

“Not according to Cole. Because I asked him if he’d like to have dinner tonight, just the two of us, and he said he was too busy. And if you were interested in someone, and they wanted you to eat with them, then you’d say yes, right?” She looks at me, wanting me to say no, but knowing I won’t lie to her.

“I’m not sure.” Maybe Cole is distracted by her dad’s illness and doesn’t have time for that kind of stuff right now? Maybe his job is the most important thing in his life? I can relate to that. It’s why I don’t have girlfriends. But maybe the fact that she won’t inherit any money takes her out of the running? And if Cole knows about that then…

It’s that last part that gives me pause. If that’s the reason I will kick his ass. I don’t care how big that motherfucker is. I will kick his ass if he’s been using her and her dad all those years for money.

“Look,” I say. “I don’t think you’re serious about Cole, Tiffy. I think you want a boyfriend and he’s just as good as the next. I think you want to replace whatever is missing in your life with him. And I don’t think you trust me one bit. So just say it.”

“Say what?” she asks, equally annoyed.

“Just admit you can’t walk away from my sexy.”

She laughs and hides her face.

I like her laugh. She doesn’t do it enough. I bet she’s been on this road to respect since she was adopted by the old man. A little girl is suddenly thrust into a world of the rich and powerful. Parties, private schools, and all that other shit that comes with it. Pony lessons, ballet, tutors, and most of all… expectations.

“Say it,” I repeat. “Tell me I’m sexy and you need me. And then I’ll help you. Just let all that other stuff go. If you want the fantasy, then let me be your fantasy.”

She rolls her eyes and presses her lips together.

“I know you think it, Tiffy. Everyone thinks it. You can deny all you want. But I’m hot.”

She snorts. “It’s not hot to know you’re hot.”

“Sure it is.” I stare at her green eyes as they sparkle with the reflection of the water. “Sure it is, Tiffy. In fact, when I look twice at a girl, it’s not their body I’m looking at. Lots of people have nice bodies. Lots of girls have pretty faces. When I take a second look, it’s because she has confidence.”

“Then why did you look at me?” She’s serious now. She holds her hand up and shields her eyes from the sun and I can see them peering out at me from the shadow she creates. “Because everything about me says second best.”

“Wow. Who did that number on you? Normally I’d accuse your father, but I don’t think it was him. So who called you second best, Tiffy? It wasn’t Claudio. It sure the fuck wasn’t me. Was it Cole? Did you turn his disinterest into self-loathing? Because I’m gonna be honest here. From my perspective, everything about you says winner. Everything points to strength, independence, and intelligence.”

She drops her hand from her eyes and bows her head. “Thank you.”

And that’s a good answer. She can accept a compliment, at least. I have known lots of girls who couldn’t even do that. But Tiffy’s reply comes off as well-bred manners instead of confidence. It’s something she’s been taught to do. Be polite.

“I’ll do the show and keep our deal about Cole.”

She looks up, but the smile is gone.

“I’ll do it. But I want something from you in return.”

“I’ll make sure you have a job—”

“No,” I cut her off. “I’m scrappy, Tiffy. That’s not what I want. I can find my own way in this world. I don’t need your handouts. Fuck the job. I’ve already written it off and have three ideas for replacing the money.”

She squints at me, suspicious. “Then what do you want?”

She has every right to be suspicious. Because I’m smiling a devious I-am-sexy-fucking-Fletcher-Novak smile. “A lap dance, Tiffy. I want a lap dance. Right here. Right now.”