Chapter Seven

Harper

I looked up at Irene Sutton Formals, inhaling a ragged breath to steel my nerves. I waited for my new date and glanced at my watch as my brow furrowed in irritation. He was late, which didn’t score any marks with me. I fidgeted with the lace hem of my skirt and checked my hair and lipstick for the fourth time. I’d never been one to wear a lot of makeup, but over the years and with much haranguing from my hairdresser, lifestyle coach, and last but not least, Julie, I resigned myself to applying at least the basics when going out in public. At home, I wouldn’t be caught dead in make-up, preferring a natural look with a comfortable uniform of yoga pants and tank tops.

I heard Irene’s voice in the outer room and figured this Cody guy must have arrived. I stood and straightened my dress and coat. Irene appeared in the doorway followed by—holy cow—he really was a David Beckham lookalike. My heart did a double take and jackknifed through my chest cavity. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“Laurie, may I present Cody Nash. Cody, this is Laurie Arnold.”

“Hello, Laurie,” Cody said, his hazel eyes flashing. They reminded me of a neon motel sign announcing that he had a vacancy.

I took his outstretched hand and gave it the official corporate shake. It felt smooth and soft, as though he hadn’t done a day’s work in give it his life. But probably many a night’s since he’d hooked up with Irene and her outfit.

“Pleased to meet you, Cody.”

“Your reservations at Pescara are for eight, so you should meet the limo downstairs right away,” Irene said as she stood aside and motioned for us to leave.

Cody smiled down at me, his brilliant dental work on display. “Yes. I’ve kept the lady waiting far too long already.”

He placed a hand on the small of my back and nudged me forward, probably anxious to get the show on the road, which was okay by me. Get the obligatory dinner out of the way and focus on the real point of the evening; which was to make a real woman out of me.

We retraced the steps I’d just walked with Reed a few days ago through the office and down the scenic elevator to street level. The same or similar limo met us at the entrance, and I got a flash of déjà vu as Cody cozied up next to me on the upholstered seat and slid an arm around me. But unlike Reed, Cody’s presence was far from romantic or comfortable. It felt overbearing, much like his cologne. It smelled great, but did he have to bathe in it? I stifled a sneeze from the heady fumes.

“Allergies?” Cody asked and wrapped his arm tighter around me. “Not to me, I hope.”

I pictured breaking out into hives in the morning.

“No, no. It’s just the change of the seasons, you know. Lots of stuff in the air.”

“Well, I know what’s in the air for us tonight,” he said, giving me a wink, then turned toward the driver. “Hey buddy, you got any liquid courage in here?”

“Side compartment,” the driver said, gesturing with his thumb.

Cody lifted a panel on his left to reveal a stash of beers and coolers.

“Right on,” he said and pulled out a Bud. “Want one?” he asked, offering it to me.

“I’ll wait, thanks.” I had no objection to drinks, but I didn’t want his performance potentially impaired before we even had dinner. He needed to be able to get it up if and when I told him to.

Cody shrugged. “Suit yourself. Personally, I can never pass up free booze.”

Classy.

I couldn’t believe that Irene tolerated these antics. He was gorgeous for sure, but his handsome visage started to lose its appeal on the wings of his ego and obnoxious behavior. I’d lost any attraction for frat boys over ten years ago. Hell, I’d probably never had any desire for them, truth be told.

With a beer bottle glued to Cody’s lips, we didn’t talk much more before arriving at the DoubleTree Hotel where the popular Pescara restaurant made its home. I’d never been but was still curious to see if it lived up to the hype. And though his model good looks recommended him, I’d say the same for my date.

An upscale and modern atmosphere greeted my eyes with lots of white, chrome, and wood. As the hostess led us to our romantic table, several female heads turned on the route leading to our cozy booth. Staring at me. Judging me. Convicting me of not being beautiful enough or good enough to be Cody’s date. Just not enough. How many times had I felt that way over the years? I’d struggled and finally won the self-esteem battle through hard work and gritty success. I didn’t want to float backward.

After ordering a cocktail, I scanned the menu but Cody seemed more interested in looking me over. I could feel his eyes ogling me from across the table. The irony didn’t escape me. Imagine, the once plain, overweight Harper Payne being desired by a semi-famous underwear model. I should have felt flattered, but somehow that wasn’t the sensation that crept over me. More like disgust. I wasn’t even enjoying the conversation.

“So, tell me how you got your start in modeling,” I asked, trying to make light conversation and ease my tension after ordering some ahi tuna and another Chardonnay. I watched him as he sipped his drink—a double bourbon on the rocks—and again I worried about his competency for later. He’d better be able to screw on demand, or I wouldn’t be so charitable with my fees this time. For a second, my thoughts dragged back to my college BF and his shortcomings.

Stop it. That was a lifetime ago, and you’re a completely new person. That kind of lightning doesn’t strike the same place twice.

“I auditioned. There were over five hundred applicants vying for the spot.” A wink and a tone of pride laced his voice.

My eyebrows raised at this comment. “I can’t imagine what you have to do at an underwear audition, to… get the edge over the competition. Can you tell me more about it?”

Cody smiled and leaned into the plush backrest of the booth. “Not so much what you do, it’s what you’ve got.”

“Really? Like, um, star quality?”

He lowered his hand to his crotch. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Jesus Martha. Would the size of his cock be the limit of our conversation? I shook my head to clear it and reminded myself that his junk was exactly the reason I was speaking to him in the first place. I had to take the good with the bad during this transaction. I tilted my head and flashed a flirty smile.

“I certainly hope so. It’s what I paid for. Tell me, do they like, um, measure you in these auditions? Or do you have to perform? Like a screen test?”

He returned his hands to the table and leaned forward as if to divulge a top-secret scandal. “No, but you’re welcome to measure me if you like. Before and after. As for a screen test, perhaps we can pretend it’s for a Western later. You can ride me into the sunset.”

Our food arrived and allowed me to sidestep any retort, though the picture in my head of myself naked on a mechanical bull left me wordless. In between his loud slurps of his mussels in gorgonzola cream sauce, he assured me that I was in for the ride of my life. Along with a brag about the success of the Saxx brand being completely due to his photo layouts, and that he promised to stuff me up so good with his huge dick I’d feel like a Thanksgiving turkey.

Just what I need. To feel like a Butterball again. Thanks, but no thanks.

I pushed the artfully presented tuna around on my plate, my appetite waning by the second. As our dinner progressed, I noticed that he hadn’t asked anything about me. Not once. Did I like the food? Do I like movies? What’s my favorite color? Did I have any kids? Infectious diseases? But Irene had probably already told him that part.

Nada.

Anxiety snaked through my gut, traveled upward, and threatened to choke me. I didn’t want to go through with this and thoughts of Reed kept infiltrating my consciousness. I wished I’d given him another chance. That he was sitting across from me instead of this arrogant blowhard.

Our contract may only involve my lower half, but for ten grand, I’d hoped for my entire body to be entertained, including a woman’s number one erogenous zone. Her mind. I supposed I could read a book while he ravaged me with his famous catalogue-worthy cock. My thoughts wandered between the titles currently on my bookshelf and the possibility of a fire breaking out in the kitchen so I could make another fast exit. I’d be like Julia Roberts in Runaway Bride. Pity I wasn’t wearing my cross-trainers.

“Laurie?”

I looked over at Cody and realized it wasn’t him calling my fake name. His pissed-off gaze was directed at a point past me, and I sensed someone at my elbow.

“Laurie, sweetheart, there you are. I’m sorry to interrupt, but the kids are asking if you’re ever coming home?”

I turned to the strange, whining voice and nearly dropped my fork. Reed. Wearing jeans and a light jacket with a plaid shirt underneath, his lost expression the very picture of a long-suffering husband pleading with his errant, promiscuous wife. I half expected Kenny Rogers to appear and burst into a rousing rendition of Ruby, Don’t Take Your Love To Town.

“We miss you, darling. Please come home.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Cody asked, tossing his napkin on the table. “Get lost.”

As if he’d been conjured up from the depths of my fantasies, Reed spoke in dulcet tones, bored with Cody’s mere existence. Speechless, I turned to Reed and recognized the mischievous twinkle in his green eyes, just like those long-ago days when we’d sneak down to the creek to hunt for frogs and see who could find the most. He’d always win. I found my voice and played along, seizing this unexpected and divine intervention.

“I told you never to follow me. Can’t you see I’m busy?”

Reed flicked a glance to Cody, then back to me, and a devious smile played at his lips. “Sorry, sweetheart, but you know, with the bedbugs, and the roof leaking and the heat shut off, the kids can’t sleep, and their pneumonia is getting worse. They need you, honey.”

My eyes filled with tears, appropriate for the ridiculous tale of woe Reed spun, but in reality, they were only to stop me from bursting out into a fit of laughter. I couldn’t remember when I’d ever had more fun. Not in the distant past. Reed still brought out the little girl in me.

“Oh, all right,” I said, then turned to Cody. “Sorry. Guess that ride will have to wait. I gotta go. Family obligations and all that.”

His hazel eyes grew to the size of vinyl record albums and were spinning like them too.

I grabbed my coat and purse and took Reed’s outstretched hand. He yanked me from the booth, trotting for the door with me in tow. When we got out to the street, I couldn’t hold it in any longer and started giggling like an escaped lunatic. “Wh-what the hell are you doing here?”