Chapter 7

Macey

I’ve died and gone to Cinderella fucking heaven. As a poor kid you dream of the finer things in life. You always want what others have and people tell you that with hard work you can have everything you want. What they fail to tell you is that getting out of the slums is hard work and that the chips are stacked against you. If you don’t have someone who cares about helping you succeed, you’re on your own to try and do better. If you don’t have the proper clothes, you can’t get hired at a job that pays a decent wage. You end up working at McDonald’s making slightly above minimum wage, plus waiting tables at a local restaurant. You bust your ass to put food on your table and just deal with where you live because it’s a roof over your head—at least that is how my life has panned out so far.

Holding a bottle of body wash that I can’t even pronounce the name of really makes it hit home that I’m living in a fucking fantasy. I think about slipping it into my bag to take home to sell, but I don’t know anyone who can afford this shit. It’s ninety-nine-cent soap or a two-for-one deal at the dollar store for me. The shampoo isn’t much better. The cost alone would feed Morgan and me for a month.

Standing under the showerhead, I try to wrap my mind around everything that’s happening and it doesn’t matter which way I spin it, I’ve become the one person I swore I would never be. Selling myself for sex is an all-time low, but the money is too good to pass up. That amount of money is going to change Morgan’s and my life for the better and I’d be foolish to walk away.

When I step out of the shower there’s a plush towel waiting for me, along with the softest bathrobe I have ever felt. I wrap my body in it, pulling the fabric to my face while I close my eyes and revel in the luxury of how it feels. At any moment I fear that he could change his mind about me, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to go easy on him. As far as I’m concerned, he’s the enemy.

The bathroom leads to one of two places—back to his bedroom where I’ll be forced to sleep or the closet that’s bigger than the bedroom that Morgan and I share. Walking into the closet, I’m taken aback at seeing all my belongings in there. My lingerie is stacked on the center table and there’s a lone dress hanging in what I’m gathering is a recently emptied space.

My fingers trail along the table, wondering how much something like this would cost. I shake my head at the thought of wasting money and hate the fact that it means nothing to people like him. Next to my G-strings are a new bra and a pair of cheekies. Picking them up, I rub the fabric between my fingers. He’s right, this is the softest thing I will ever wear. I really hate that he’s right.

“How was your shower?”

I jump at the sound of his voice behind me. My nerves have been on edge ever since he took me into the VIP room. I don’t know what to expect with him and the fact that he’s a stealth walker scares the shit out of me.

Finn is leaning against the doorjamb with his hands in his pockets, wearing denim jeans and a button-up shirt with his sleeves rolled. His black hair is tousled, making him look like he’s straight out of a magazine.

“The shampoo and soap you gave me, it’s too much. I don’t need anything other than the stuff I have in my bag.”

He pushes off and stalks into the closet, ignoring me. “I cleaned this area for you.”

“I won’t be needing it.”

Finn laughs and shakes his head. “Surely, you plan to hang the clothes you buy.”

“That I buy? Does my wardrobe allowance come out of the money you’re paying me?”

He walks over to me, causing my breathing to become sporadic. When his finger touches my exposed neck, shivers run down my spine and my eyes close unwillingly. I try not to let his touch affect me, but he can see that it clearly does and by the expression on his face, he’s enjoying this far too much.

“I told you that I’d take care of you this week.”

“In exchange I spread myself willingly.”

He smirks and shrugs. “I think for the amount that I’m paying you, you’d be willing to do anything I ask.”

My temper rises as my hand clenches into a fist. I want to punch the smug look off his pretty face and show him exactly what type of woman I am.

“I’m not a whore.”

“I never said you were, Macey. You’re the one who keeps implying that our arrangement isn’t mutually beneficial.”

Finn turns on his heel and starts to leave, only to pause at the door. “We have a reservation in an hour.” He doesn’t tell me where or even wait for my response, but gathering by the dress that is hanging in the part of the closet he’s cleared for me, I’m expected to wear it.

Between the bathroom and closet there’s a room. I suppose these rich people call it a dressing room, whereas I call it a waste of space, but it’s someplace I never thought I’d find myself in.

My curling iron and blow dryer are there and plugged in, along with my makeup. It’s laid out for me so I can see everything. This whole setup has me wondering if Finn is a damn woman dressed in sheep’s clothing, considering he knows how to set up a woman’s vanity. It’s either that or he has help. Someone I have yet to meet.

Sitting down on the plush stool, my makeup-less face stares back at me. Hours ago I was crying and trying to will away the puffiness of my eyes so I could make decent tips before I had to fly home and now I’m here.

The thought of home has me racing back into the closet, searching my belongings until I find my phone. It’s an old flip phone, but it does the job. I dial Steph’s number and wait, hoping that I’ve caught her before she’s left.

“I haven’t forgotten,” she says, answering the phone.

“Steph.” I draw her name out, unable to form the words I need in order to tell her what I’ve done.

“What’s wrong?”

I carry my phone back to the vanity and sit down. Even staring at myself in the mirror, knowing what I’m about to tell her and ask of her, makes me sick to my stomach.

“I lost the money. All of it.”

The immediate silence is followed by a slew of curse words and a screeching, “WHAT?”

“But if you can watch Morgan for one more week, I’ll have it. And I won’t ever ask you to do this again.”

“How will you have it in a week, Macey?”

I look over my shoulder on the off chance that Finn is behind me. Even though I can’t see him through the mirror, his ninja-like stalking skills have me on edge. I contemplate telling her about Finn, but realize that will only make her worry more.

“It’s nothing illegal, I promise. I just need one more week and then I’ll be home and I can put this all behind me.”

“So you’re staying for another week, but you can’t tell me why or what for?”

“I’d rather not, Steph. I know you’re worried, but I promise you, I’m fine. More than fine, really.” I look around the room and realize that I couldn’t have asked for anything better, unless Finn is a closet freak with a sadistic side.

“Look, you know I’d do anything for you, but—”

“I know and I’m begging you. One more week, that is all I need and everything will be better for Morgan and me.”

“Fine,” she says, sighing. “Hang on, Morgan wants to speak to you.”

“Hi, Mommy.” As soon as I hear the sweet sound of her voice my eyes are glancing into the mirror to see if Finn is behind me.

“Hi, I miss you.”

“I miss you too. When are you coming home?”

“One more week,” I tell her, breaking my own heart. What I’m doing here now will benefit her. That’s what I have to keep telling myself to stop me from cracking and going back sooner. When she yawns I know that I’m keeping her on the phone for my own sake and not hers.

“You should go to sleep. I love you, Morgan.”

“I love you too, Mommy.” She hangs up without giving the phone back to Steph. I close the lid on my cell and set it down, all while telling myself that I can do this for her.

“Who’s Morgan?”

My eyes meet Finn’s stare in the mirror. He doesn’t wait for me to answer before he’s walking toward me. Before I can form a response, his hands are pushing the robe off my shoulders and down to my elbows, baring my breasts for him to see. I sit up straighter, showing him that he doesn’t affect me, even though my heart is beating rapidly and my tongue feels swollen. There will be no easing into anything with him. He’s admitted that he’s attracted to me and is expecting sex. I won’t be able to put it off for a night or two while I transition into being around him.

“Are you cold?” His fingers press against my skin, kneading deep into my muscles.

I shake my head, thanking his short attention span for not asking about Morgan again. He watches me through the mirror, his piercing blue eyes focusing on mine. When his hands cup my breasts and squeeze them roughly, I gasp because of the excitement that courses through me.

“Your nipples tell me otherwise.” He pinches and pulls my hardened nipples before massaging them. I bite my tongue to keep from crying out from the pleasure I’m feeling from being touched like this. An ache I haven’t felt in a long time grows between my legs, but I refuse to acknowledge that he has any effect on me whatsoever. My time with him will be clinical. I’ll be shut off from feeling anything and my actions will robotic.

“Who’s Morgan?” he asks again as he leans forward, brushing his erection against my back. “Does he know I’m going to fuck you? Will he be jealous?”

“No,” I squeak out, thankful that he’s assuming Morgan is a man. And if I think by saying no he’s going to stop this arrangement and show any indication that our deal is off, I’m sadly mistaken.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, walking away as quickly as he appeared. He leaves me speechless and tingling all over, and I find myself wishing he’d come back and fuck me so that the deed is out of the way.

“Twenty minutes,” he calls out from somewhere in the house, reminding me that we’re leaving soon. A quick glance at my phone tells me that it’s late and I know he wants to go shopping, although I have a feeling the stores stay open for someone like him.

For the first time in a long time, my makeup is light and natural and I leave my long hair down in curls. Stepping into the panties he bought me, my skin rejoices at the way the silk feels against my skin. I even think my lady bits are doing a damn happy dance.

“Don’t get used to it,” I tell myself as I slip into the dress and step into the designer heels. Even my feet are screaming hallelujah because those contraptions that I dance in are not holding them hostage. And as if by magic, gentle fingers brush my hair aside and tender lips press against my skin as the zipper moves up my spine. The shivers I feel are uncontrollable and the slight shake of my body causes him to smile.

“Blue is definitely your color, Macey.” I jump at the sound of his voice and place my hand over my rapidly beating heart in hopes of catching my breath.

Inhaling deeply, I turn and say, “Thank you.” For the past ten years I have wondered what he has been up to and now I know, and I’m about to find out a lot more about Finn McCormick. He holds out his arm and I take it, falling easily in step next to him.

I wish, in a different time, things were different, that I was different. In my dreams, I’m married to a man like Finn. We may not be rich, but we love each other and are raising a happy family.

In my dreams, I’m not a stripper, turned high-priced escort for a week of sex. But in reality that is what am I, whether Finn makes me feel that way or not.