Chapter 10

Kendra

“You’ve got to be joking?” Liz asked. There was no humor in her question. No smile in her eyes. She was shocked and near speechless.

“You know I’m not,” I responded coolly. I was a little miffed at Liz’s reaction. She was the wild, outgoing one, and now that I had my own crazy story to tell, she had suddenly switched to the concerned best friend type.

After leaving the club, Liz dragged me to the nearest coffee shop, one of those diners that were open all night and closed all day. It was small, smelly, and the coffee was awful. But it was also the perfect place to gossip, and as much as I didn’t want to admit it, I had plenty of that for Liz.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Liz pouted as she sipped her burnt coffee. “We’re supposed to be best friends, but I had to find out from the greasy club owner. What’s that about?”

“I didn’t tell you because I forgot?” It came out as a question, instead of a statement. I knew it wouldn’t hold up. I didn’t know why I didn’t tell Liz. I usually told her everything. For some reason though, every time I went to tell her about the job and Grant, I found that I couldn’t.

“No, that makes sense. I mean who wouldn’t forget becoming a sex worker? Probably just slipped your mind?” She held her empty mug out, signaling for the waitress to refill it. She waddled over and poured another cup of steaming hot, burnt coffee into Liz’s mug.

“Hey, that’s not fair!” I exclaimed, feeling myself getting angry. I hated being angry with Liz, but sometimes she deserved it.

“What? Tell me I’m wrong? You’re selling edible sex toys. How else am I supposed to look at it?”

“I just work there. I don’t... there’s a no touch policy.” The words sounded hollow as soon as I said them, but I didn’t care. If anyone should have been on my side, it was Liz. Somehow, I had to make her understand. “Grant promised that—”

“And that’s another thing,” Liz cut in. “This whole Grant thing is odd. Like really odd. I just don’t trust the guy. Promise me, promise me, that you won’t sleep with him.”

I could never lie to Liz. So, I chose not to. Instead, I looked away, anywhere but in her eyes, and took a sip of coffee. Of course, she saw right through me. When I finally braved a look at her face, her mouth hung wide open.

“Kendra, no. You already did, didn’t you?” I nodded weakly. “Kendra!” She exploded, spilling her coffee all over the table as she threw her arms in the air. “Babe, what were you thinking?”

I had no answer. I didn’t know what I was thinking. All I knew was that, despite myself and all my instincts, I was falling for Grant.

“I just don’t want to see you hurt,” Liz continued, leaning back as the waitress silently mopped up the mess that Liz had made. “Look, I don’t know that guy, but based on your history and everything you’ve told me about him, I know his type. The odds are that he’s using you as some sick means of revenge. He’ll fuck you, use you up, and throw you out.”

Everything Liz said rang true. I had gone through all of it in my head already and was more than aware of the likelihood that he was just using me. For sex or revenge or both. The sick part was that I didn’t care. There was a part of me, a very small part, that hoped that maybe the asshole exterior was an act and that he actually liked me. Because of that, I knew that no matter what, I would go crawling back to Grant. Again and again and again.

“I know,” I finally said to Liz. I could never tell her the truth. All I could do was hope that when I fell, which inevitably I would, that she would be there to pick me back up.

--

We spent a lot longer than intended at the coffee house. Most of it was Liz berating me while I promised her that I would not sleep with Grant again. By the time she was finally done and satisfied, it was early morning. That point where the sun was on the precipice of rising and all the drunks and club goers could be seen stumbling home.

It was because Liz dropped me off just around the corner from my apartment that she didn’t see him waiting for me. And it was because of that, I didn’t see him until I was right at my front door.

“You never called.” He leaned against the front door to my apartment, watching me as I walked down the sidewalk toward him.

“Grant?” I asked, more surprised than anything. My heart also gave an involuntary leap at the sight of him. Was he being here a sign that he cared? Was he worried about me?

“I told you to call, and you didn’t. What did I tell you about disobeying orders?” His voice was cold and steely. There was zero warmth in it and any ideas I had about him actually caring about my well-being evaporated instantly.

“You’re my boss, not my keeper,” I shot back as I reached my door. As I did, I ignored him, reaching into my purse and fishing for my keys.

“Hey,” he said, grabbing me by the arm again. As sick as it was, I loved the way he did that. The way he spun me to face him, pulling me up. It turned me on in a way I didn’t even know was possible. “I’m both,” he said in that same steely tone. “And it’s time you realized that.”

“Okay,” I said quietly, my eyes fixed on his grip around my arm. “It won’t happen again.”

“Good. See that it doesn’t.” With that, he let go of my arm, and I felt my heart drop a little. A part of me hoped that he would drag me inside after that and teach me a lesson. I was sure that he wanted that, too.

The two of us stood there for a moment in silence. I had no idea what to say. Had he come all this way just to scold me? I was sure that he cared for me. He had to? He wouldn’t do this just for a regular lay.

“Do you… Do you want to come in—”

“I’ve got to go,” he cut in. “But I’ll see you tomorrow. Early, too. I don’t want you using tonight as an excuse for being late.”

He turned and left. He didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t kiss me. He simply walked away.

I remained standing where I was for a long time. I didn’t look for my keys or try and open the door. I simply stared at the spot where he had been, unable to comprehend what had just happened and what the meaning of it was. The way he treated me was disgusting. I was an object to him. Something to be used and discarded. So why didn’t I hate him for it?

I opened the door and made my way into my tiny studio apartment. It couldn’t have been more different than Grant’s. I took off my jeans and top and removed my thong and bra, before falling into bed. Considering what time it was, there was a chance for maybe four hours of sleep, although I knew I wasn’t going to get even one.

Every time I closed my eyes, I thought about Grant. I knew right then that I had feelings for him. And they went beyond sexual desire. I hated to admit it, even to myself, but I knew I was starting to fall in love with him.

But how did he feel about me? His actions said that he cared for me. But his words, they spoke a different tale. As I closed my eyes and willed myself to sleep, I hoped beyond anything that my instincts were true and that Grant just might give me a second chance again.