Chapter THIRTEEN
Elizabeth
I must have been out of my mind when I said Jason could set me up with a man of his choosing. It felt…wrong somehow. Like I would be cheating on Damon, but that was ridiculous. Even though I liked him. A lot. I’d caught him flirting with the blonde. And why shouldn’t he? We were not a couple. I was nothing more to Damon but another client. I had to accept that.
It was my own fault.
Apparently, I still had the annoying habit of falling for pretty boys. And we were totally wrong for each other. Plus he was unavailable. No way could I compete with the multitude of women he probably went through. With that gorgeous body and those ripe kissable lips, what woman wouldn’t want him?
Still, it had been worth it. My core pulsed with fresh blood and my nipples stiffened at the thought. From being told I was sexless and unworthy by every other man I’d ever met to having five orgasms in a single day made me feel like a sixteen year old. How does one recover from all that?
***
I met Jason on the edge of the pool while I was practicing not freaking out in the kiddy section.
“Well, lookee how fearless you are around the water these days,” he said, squatting to talk to me, hands clasped between his thighs.
“Very funny. What you want, Jason? I thought you were playing poker or…some other manly thing you guys do.”
“Done.” He pulled a hand out from behind his back and flashed a wad of cash at me. “See?”
“Good. Now leave me alone and go away.”
“Don’t you want to know why I’m here?”
I knew exactly why he was here. I was trying to avoid him and failing miserably.
“I found you a guy, Liz. I found you a gem. A diamond in the rough. Now listen, he does have money, but not as much as the rest of the guys around here, and no felonies or drug charges on his record.”
“I doubt this is the sort of place that attracts that kind of man.”
“Maybe not, but as we know little sister, you do.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
He chuckled making me even more annoyed with him.
“Sorry. Anyway, got any plans for later this evening? He wants to get together asap.”
Oh god.
“No,” I lied. I actually had plans for a swim lesson with Damon, at six, but the more time away from him the better. Or so I told myself.
I huffed out a breath, not wanting to agree, but knowing I owed it to Jason to give this guy a chance. How bad could he be? I’d already married, dated, or screwed the worst of the assholes in the world.
“Okay, where do I meet him?”
“Right here.”
“In the pool?”
“No, silly. He wants to meet you under that palm plant over there, the one by the piano. You know, the place where you made your famous swan dive?”
“Don’t remind me. What’s his name? Tom. Tom Swanson.”
Oh great.
***
When I told Damon I had to reschedule our swim lesson because I had to get ready for a date, I thought he was going to be disappointed. Actually, I was the one who was disappointed. He told me he understood, almost like he didn’t care. I tried to get him to react. I talked about getting a massage to limber myself up. Naked. And a long hot bubble bath to make my skin smell pretty. Also naked. He hadn’t batted an eyelid.
He wished me luck.
Fucking wished me luck with another man! He either didn’t care or was thinking about the little blonde he had back in his room. Fucking player!
When Tom picked me up at my door, instead of under the tree like Jason told me, I didn’t know what to think at first. I wasn’t even done with my makeup. With an armful of red roses, he looked the complete gentleman, but something was off. Maybe it was because he was early. I did not like to be rushed. One point against him already.
I let him inside my room, knowing it was probably a bad idea since I didn’t even know the guy and the way he was scanning me up and down had me wondering if the mace I used to carry in my purse was still there. Just in case.
“Could you do me a favor?” I asked while he tested out the bed by bouncing his fat ass up and down on it.
“Sure sweets.”
“Could you…um…put those in water while I finish getting ready.”
“No problem.”
“I’m afraid I don’t have a vase,” I called out. “But I’m sure there’s a pitcher somewhere that you can fill.” As I left him to scout around my room, I wondered what I had got myself into. It was clear this guy wasn’t my type. And not just because he wasn’t very good looking. He didn’t seem to be able to carry a conversation either. He just kept looking at me like I was some sort of meal that he’d just received the last order of and he wondered if it were fresh.
“We’re going off campus for dinner, if that’s okay,” he called from the other room while I put on mascara.
When I came out of the bedroom, he was moving the zipper on his fly up and down. Seeing me, he blushed and then buttoned up his coat. Weird. “What do you mean by off campus?”
“Off campus. You know. In the city. I want to take you to this great bistro in the city if that’s okay.”
“Um…” I had thought we would just stay at the club, have a nice dinner and I’d make some excuse about having to get up early the next morning. It wouldn’t have been a lie. Not exactly. I was nursing a sleep deficit because I’d stayed up late reading. Turned out the books Damon gave me were phenomenal. Another thing I hadn’t expected about Damon hot-as-hell Donovan. He was a reader. Just like me.
I must have been looking distracted or anxious because the next thing I knew Tom blurted out, “You know you wouldn’t be the first woman who backed out on a date with me. I wouldn’t hold it against you.”
Now I felt like a bitch.
He looked a little loss, biting his lip, as if he knew what I was going to say. I was sure he was used to rejection from women who thought they were too good for him. I didn’t want to be one of those women. “A bistro in the city sounds lovely.”
His face brightened and his nose actually turned a little red. I took one of the roses, broke the stem off and popped it in the button hole of his suit jacket.
His chubby face beamed. Maybe I misjudged the guy. Beauty was in the eyes of the beholder, right?
***
My instincts had been correct.
The air conditioning was frigid and I’d forgotten my sweater in the limo. Tom neglected to call ahead for a table, so we waited for a full hour to get the only table available by the kitchen. Every time those swinging doors flew open, a whoosh of air blew over me, sending shivers up ad down my naked arms. I could barely think among all the clatter and rich smells all mixed into one made my stomach tumble.
To make matters worse, all Tom wanted to talk about was the plight of the narwhal. With great pride, he’d informed me that he set up a nonprofit to not only study the endangered creature, but also to market all sorts of toys to raise awareness all over the world, and an animated film starring Neddy the Narwhal was set to air in Australia this Spring, followed by China, Japan, the UK, and finally the United States. At first, I found this interesting. His enthusiasm delightful. Tom was an entrepreneur. A trait I admired in almost anyone, but then he started telling me about stocks, distribution practices, the cost of materials, and my eyes glazed over so fast I thought I would fall asleep. When he switched to explaining how narwhals affected the ecosystem, I found myself zoning out, thinking about everything and anything except what he was telling me. It was a good thing I wasn’t eating soup because I could so see myself plunging my face into a bowl.
I wanted to tell Tom I didn’t give a fuck about narwhals or anything else that had a horn sticking out of its head, but that just wasn’t me. It wasn’t like he was being rude or anything. I could have changed the subject, but I’d barely entered the conversation at all because I was actually dog tired. Tom was sweet natured, but in a dorky kind of way. I was about to suggest we talk about something else when I looked across the room and just—froze.
Tom followed my gaze. “Ex boyfriend?”
“My stepfather.”
The poor guy brightened, threw down his napkin and jumped up. “Well, I’ll be… We must invite him over to join us, Liz.”
Was he kidding? Didn’t he see the look of horror on my face?
He made to flag the monster over when I pulled him back into his chair. Roughly. “No, Tom! Please. Sit down. Will you just sit?”
I slunk down in my chair holding the menu in front of my face. Tom looked at me, but then back sat down, brows furrowed. “I screwed up?” he asked like a small child.
“No. He didn’t see you. Or me. Thank god.” When I saw the hostess lead Jake and a tall busty brunette in six inch stilettos to the other side of the restaurant, I breathed with relief. “Can we just leave? Are you finished? Maybe we can take that with us.”
“No. I mean, yeah. Sure. I’m finished.” But he wasn’t finished. I could see he’d barely eaten half his meal. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, Liz. We can go.”
Tom threw down a few hundred-dollar bills on the table.
I sat rooted to my chair. Watching from across the room. Still watching the man who’d sold my virtue into a sort of slavery at the age of twelve. I shuddered. What the hell was wrong with me? I wasn’t a child. My stepfather couldn’t hurt me anymore so why was I running like a damn jack rabbit?
“That should take care of the tip,” Tom said, making a sweeping motion after he pulled out my chair. He followed after me toward the door and then we both stepped out into the sunshine.
Unfortunately, as we were waiting for the limo, my father stepped outside as well. While we waited for the limo to pull up, he lit a cigarette and blew the smoke in our direction.