CHAPTER TWO
Jennie
This is absolutely ludicrous. I’m in Charleston, about to step into Urth Café. And no, it’s not a misspelling. It’s Earth spelled with a “U” because Charleston now has a hip downtown district filled with vegan eats and hippie charm, while maintaining its stately, aristocratic bearing simultaneously. So much has changed in the ten years since I’ve been gone … but so much is the same as well.
Because the cobblestone streets still gleam, almost impossible to navigate in high heels. Plus, the sidewalks are a bright white even though by all accounts, they should be gray. Finally, the heat is insane. The air is strangely still and silent, humid on my bare shoulders.
I’ve worn a cute sundress to meet Tyler. Ever the worrywart, I’m afraid that someone I know might see us. So if they swan over, I have to smile and introduce him as my boyfriend without missing a hitch. It does no good to wear something dingy and stained, even though technically, it shouldn’t matter. After all, I’m paying five hundred dollars for this meeting, and don’t girlfriends go out with boyfriends undone and unmade-up? Not in the South they don’t. Here, ladies put on full faces of make-up to go to the grocery store, hair perfectly coiffed no matter the occasion.
So I take a deep breath and step inside. Indian music greets my ears and I can see I’m the only person who’s vanilla. Everyone else has dreds, piercings, tattoos, and an otherwise somewhat grungy air. It’s weird. Maybe I’m the one who’s not normal.
I step to the counter with a hesitant smile.
“Just a coffee please,” I say. “Black.”
A low voice sounds behind me.
“You sure you don’t want some sugar and milk with that? Black coffee down South is really bitter. I think you’re better off with something to sweeten it up.”
I spin around and gasp. Because it’s not the man from the pictures. It’s Jason Morgan, who used to play quarterback from the high school football team. What in the world is he doing here? And why is he talking to me? All of my insecurities from high school come rushing back.
“Um hi,” I stammer like a fool. “Sure, sugar please.”
“Seven fifty,” says the bored barista.
“Seven fifty?” I gasp. “But this is just a cup of coffee!”
“Single source beans,” the barista drawls, already looking off into the distance. “Straight from Guatemala, plus we roast them ourselves. So seven fifty it is.”
But before I can move, Jason whips out his wallet and places a ten on the counter.
“For the lady,” he rumbles. “This better be a good cup of coffee.”
I turn towards him surprised, but the big man merely grins before lightly grasping my elbow and escorting me to a nearby table.
“Oh um, I’m meeting someone,” I say awkwardly. “It’s nice seeing you again but my friend should be here shortly. He’s my b-boyfriend.”
I curse myself. God, why did I have to stammer on the word boyfriend? I sound so nervous and fake, like even I can’t believe I have a boyfriend.
But Jason grins without bothering to get up. In fact, the man leans backwards in his chair, getting comfortable. He’s so handsome in a white button down shirt and casual jeans, the denim highlighting those long, powerful legs. I’m brought back to a time when I’d stare at him from afar as he strode down the hallways, shooting grins and high fiving people while I basically disappeared into my locker.
But those days are gone now, and in fact, I was in Charleston to make a point. So I sit up straight, looking directly into those sky-blue eyes.
“Yes, in fact my boyfriend Tyler should be here any minute now,” are the important words. “So if you’ll excuse me.”
He grins again, those white teeth flashing.
“It’s been a long time, Jennie,” he drawls. “And I don’t mind meeting your boyfriend. Did you guys both come from NYC? After all, word’s gotten around that you’re in the Big Apple now, and I’m dying to meet this guy from the big city.”
I choke because in fact, I hadn’t quite gotten the details worked out. I was supposed to meet Tyler and we’d figure out together whether he was from NYC or from Charleston. Or even better, if he was from some far-flung town that no one had ever heard of so that they couldn’t fact check our statements.
So Jason’s questions took me by surprise. Thinking fast, I blurted the only thing that made sense.
“He’s from around here,” I stammered. “Well, not exactly. Savannah.”
“Savannah?” Jason asked, one eyebrow quirking. “That’s not exactly around here. Savannah’s all the way in Georgia, Jennie. Why would you say he’s one of us?”
Oh shit.
“I didn’t say he’s one of us,” is my quick reply. “I just meant Tyler’s from the South. Now that I live in New York, the South kind of melts into one big pot, if you get what I mean.”
Jason shakes his head seriously, but I can see a playful light in those eyes.
“Damn Yankees,” he says. “I can’t believe we all blend in together to folks who live up North. Wish we’d won the war,” he says ruefully.
I sigh then.
“Listen Jason, you have to go,” I say with exasperation now. “My boyfriend’s coming, and I need to save a spot for him. So do you mind? We can catch up at the reunion this weekend. It’s lovely to see you.”
Jason shakes his head again, his chest erupting with laughter.
“That high school reunion thing?” he asks. “Actually, I wasn’t planning on going.”
“You weren’t?” I ask, dumbfounded. “But you were the big man on campus, the one that all the girls wanted to date.”
I clap a hand over my mouth.
“Oh wait, I shouldn’t have said that,” I apologize, cheeks going red. “Sorry.”
He grins again lazily, but there’s a spark in his eye this time.
“Well, I’ve been speaking in circles,” he said. “I wasn’t planning on going until I got your invitation. Then, I knew I had to go. For contractual reasons, you know.”
My eyes narrow. What in the world is he talking about? I just want to get this guy out of here ASAP, and now he’s talking contracts? What’s happening?”
“Jason,” I say firmly. “It’s nice to see you again. In fact, I’m surprised you recognized me because we didn’t really interact in high school. But it’s been a pleasure, and if you’ll excuse me, I’m waiting for someone,” I say, looking at him pointedly.
This time, Jason’s expression turns serious. There’s an air of tension in his big form although I can’t exactly pinpoint what gives him that air. Maybe it’s the way his shoulders have stiffened slightly or the way a muscle twitches in his strong jaw.
“Well,” he says, voice suddenly silky. “I’d hoped for a warmer introduction, but I guess we just have to make do with what we’ve got, hmmm? Jennie, I’m Tyler. I’m the man you hired.”
My mouth drops open.
“Wh-what?” is my stammer. “How can that be? You’re not the man in the pictures!”
Jason’s grin turns wry.
“How many escorts do you think actually put their real pictures up on the web? It’d be right there for anyone to see, including your co-workers, your friends, and your enemies, not to mention Mom and Dad.”
I gasped again.
“But this can’t be right,” came my rushed words. “How could they sell me something and then substitute different goods?”
A light comes into Jason’s eyes.
“I can see you’re very business-like,” he says, “since evidently hiring an escort is like ordering a Big Mac at your favorite store. But again, no one uses their real picture on the website. Trust me, nobody. Not the girls, not the guys, not the madams. It’s just not good business practice.”
“So who was that guy?” I ask plaintively. “And what am I going to do?” is my helpless wail. My voice is getting louder by the second as dreams of a triumphant high school reunion come crashing down.
Jason is patient.
“The guy is a model, that’s all. His photos were probably bought from a photographer and they signed away all the rights not knowing what they were going to be for. But this is what Southern Charm does. This is what all escort sites do. They buy stock photos that look somewhat like their employees, and then deploy them to maximum effect.”
I can barely hear now that my plans for a grand entrance have been ruined. But I manage to look at Jason again and I can see that his words have the ring of truth. Although he isn’t the guy in the photos, he looks somewhat like him. They have the same charcoal-black hair and piercing blue eyes. In fact, I’d say that Jason’s eyes are a more intense blue, as compared to the dark navy of the model.
But still, how is this going to work? My plan was to waltz into the hotel ballroom on the arm of the hottest guy from miles around. We were going to make-believe that he was my boyfriend from some farflung town in Alaska, and then after two hours, we’d part.
But now, that dream’s been completely blown out of the water. Because everyone in Charleston knows who Jason Morgan is. He’s the former high school quarterback who had all the girls swooning over his every word. He led our team to a State Championship as was accepted at the College of Charleston with a full-ride due to his athletic abilities combined with a bucketful of smarts as well. So how am I going to pull this off? Frankly, I’ve been left with nothing, and I’m thinking about calling Southern Charm and giving them a piece of my mind.
But as I fumble in my bag for my cell phone, a big hand clasps my wrist, strong and warm. Shocks run up my arm and I turn startled eyes to him.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“What do you think I’m doing?” I respond, outraged. “This is a travesty! I was supposed to get that guy to come with me to reunion, and now I’ve got … got … you!”
Jason grins although there’s a flicker of danger in that blue gaze.
“I’m sorry to hear your opinion of me is so low,” he rumbles. “Because I was kinda looking forward to seeing their faces when we walked in together.”
I gasp.
“You want to go through with this? Are you crazy? No one’s going to believe it. Me, fat and dumpy Jennie Lake, with Jason Morgan, high school stud? They’d call us out on the lies in no time!”
Jason cocks his head, his gaze sliding slowly down my body. I should feel offended but instead a sizzle runs down my spine, every cell suddenly alert.
“Well, I wouldn’t say you’re fat,” he drawls lazily. “More like pleasantly round.”
My chin snaps shut.
“That’s it,” I huff. “I’m definitely calling Southern Charm to complain.” And before he can do anything, I dial the center and lo and behold, it must be the same operator from before.
“Hello,” I say with anger in my voice. “This is Jennie Lake. I was supposed to meet with Tyler from your site, but instead you’ve sent this … this man!” I say between clenched teeth.
“Oh yes, how are you Ms. Lake?” says the chirpy woman. “I see you’ve met Jason. He’s one of our best,” she assures me. “What seems to be the problem?”
What in the world? Isn’t it obvious?
“This isn’t the man I ordered,” is my stiff reply. “That’s a huge problem and I need a refund ASAP.” All thoughts of a triumphant entrance are in shambles now. If I can just get my money back form this dating service, I’ll consider it a win and slink back to New York with my tail between my legs.
But the woman clucks her tongue regretfully.
“I’m sorry, the payment has already gone through in full, and we don’t offer refunds. Is there something else I can do? Is there some way I can make this situation better for you?”
I almost scream into the phone, but stop myself seeing that Urth Café has other patrons. No need to make a scene when this has already reached disaster proportions.
“Who else do you have available?” I say stiffly while gritting my teeth and shooting glares Jason’s way. He doesn’t even look concerned, idly listening as I lose my cool. “Is there anyone else available for a high school reunion in Charleston this weekend?”
“Hmm, let me see,” says the woman, tapping away at her keyboard. She disappears for a moment before coming back on the phone. “I’m so sorry Ms. Lake, but none of our other escorts are available on such short notice. Maybe next weekend? Would you like to book Mike or Rob then? They’re top-rated gentlemen as well,” she coos. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy your time with them.”
By now, the top of my head is about to blow off. Does this woman not understand the urgency of the situation? Does she not understand what timeliness and responsiveness mean? Clearly, my predicament is nothing to her. So stiffly, I say, “No thank you. And I’m going to contest this charge on my credit card, just to let you know.”
“Of course,” says the woman. “But remember, when you pressed accept on our website, you accepted all of our terms and conditions, including your right to a refund. Once we send that contract to your credit card company, it’s very unlikely that you’ll win.”
I bite my tongue just to keep from screaming because this is a nightmare come to life. It looks like I’m going to be out twenty-five hundred dollars and get absolutely nothing in return. Just my luck. But there’s nothing more to say, and with an abrupt click, I hang up.
“How’d it go?” Jason asks casually, blue eyes scrutinizing my face. “Things work out okay?”
“You know they didn’t,” I say stiffly. “They won’t give me a refund. And there’s no one else available.”
“Guess you’re stuck with me then,” he drawls amiably. “When you have lemons, make lemonade.”
I shoot him a sharp look.
“I realize this is funny to you, but it’s not for me. This is a disaster of titanic proportions, and I was really counting on Southern Charm to come through. What a shit company,” I say disgustedly. “I’m going to complain to the Consumer Protection board, or whoever it’s supposed to be.”
“You mean the Better Business Bureau?” he asks casually, with a twinkle in his eye. “I think you mean the BBB, right? The Consumer Financial Protection Board is a body formed by Congress after the 2008 recession. Their focus is on banks, savings and loans associations, and the like.”
Oh screw that. Mr. Professor here is more than I can bear, even if inside, I’m secretly inpressed with his smarts. Again, Jason got a full ride for a combination of athletic talent and intelligence, and I can see why he deserved it. But I’m not giving him an inch, not when I’ve been played so badly.
“Fine,” I say. “I’ll report it to the BBB. Thanks for entertaining me with your knowledge, but I have to go now.”
And with that, I stand with what I hope is a queenly air, slinging my purse over my shoulder. Of course, clumsy Jennie is back and the bag clumps against the back of my chair, ruining the impression, but still. I shoot him one last shriveling gaze before spinning on my heel to make an exit.
But then that big hand shoots out again, clasping my wrist with a surprisingly strong hold.
“You don’t even want to entertain the thought?” he rumbles, his body still relaxed but those eyes flashing a little. “Imagine it. Me and you, walking into reunion together. We’ll say it’s a new thing,” he says, throwing the idea out there like this is a business meeting. “We’ve been corresponding by email and phone, keeping our relationship secret. But this is our coming-out party, and we want to announce ourselves to the world now.”
I stare at him like he’s gone crazy.
“No one would believe that,” I say stiffly. “This isn’t Romeo and Juliet.”
“It’s not Romeo and Juliet at all,” he says agreeably, although there’s a dangerous flicker in those blue eyes. “There are no Capulets and Montagues because face it, we’re not teenage lovers with angry families at our backs. We’re adults, Jennie, who are nearing thirty. And what adults do is make the best of a situation. So like I said … when life gives you lemons, make lemonade.”
What the hell? His preachy tone makes me so angry, the patronizing words causing my temperature to shoot up to a hundred degrees. But at the same time, I can hear the reason in his voice because it makes sense on some sort of twisted level. First, I’m out twenty-five hundred dollars if I don’t work with him. That’s a lot of money to me, and I can’t afford to have that cash vanish into thin ar.
Second, maybe we could pull off what he’s saying. It’s a little weird, to be sure, but at the same time, there are people who get married after meeting on-line. Isn’t that weirder? So maybe, just maybe, we could say we’ve been doing this long-distance thing but have decided to come out into the open at reunion. We want to announce our relationship to the world, and if it doesn’t work out in two months? No problem. I’m in New York and Jason’s down here, so we’ll just say something vague along the lines of, “Oh, the distance was really hard and we were both so busy.”
Suddenly, my chest loosens a bit as I look into Jason’s blue eyes. Because this man is so commanding and persuasive. If there’s anyone who could pull this off, it’s the guy here at this table, with the world at his fingertips.
“Okay,” I concede. “But I have one condition.”
He leans back, smiling lazily, and once again, I feel like I’ve given up way too soon.
“Shoot,” he drawls. “Ask and ye shall receive.”
I take a deep breath.
“We need to practice. We have to meet up at least one more time to put together a story because there are too many details that need to be hammered out. That means either tonight, tomorrow, or Friday, we have to meet again and talk.”
His eyes gleam, and suddenly I have the feeling that I’m walking into the lair of a lion like a lamb who has no idea of the danger.
“Sure thing,” he drawls. “I’m at your disposal. My schedule’s wide open.”
I nod.
“Tomorrow then,” I say firmly. “I’ll see you at eight p.m. Can you come to my hotel? I realize this is a little weird, but it’s the best way. I don’t want anyone to overhear our conversation as we figure out how we met.”
Jason laughs, throwing his head back with real mirth.
“You’ll find out that nothing’s weird in my line of business,” he says wryly. “I’ve seen it all. And sure, I can meet you at your hotel. Where are you staying?”
Quickly, I give him the address.
“Just call me when you’re in the lobby.”
“Sure thing, pretty girl,” he drawls, blue eyes gleaming as I make my departure. “See you tomorrow.”
And my heart leaps although it shouldn’t because this isn’t a real date. Jason Morgan and I are meeting so that we can plan the web of lies that we’re going to feed people during reunion. It’s wrong, and somehow, I feel like I’m sinking into quicksand rather than pulling myself out.
But it’s too late. The money’s paid and the deal’s been set into motion. As I get into my car, I can feel Jason’s blue eyes still on me through the glass paned windows of the café. Unbidden, a shiver runs down my spine and my insides clench before going hot and loose. Because the man’s godawful handsome, charismatic with a sense of humor … and suddenly I feel like I’m the one who’s falling, and not the other way around.