Part 7 (1/2)

”d.a.m.n straight.” She jerked open the door and climbed out. ”Take it easy, baby.”

”Oh, no, you don't.” He pushed his door open, pausing just long enough to grab a pair of sungla.s.ses and a hat before jogging to catch up with her. She moved awful d.a.m.n fast considering she had on a pair of toothpick heels. ”Wait a minute.”

”Leave me alone. Last night is over.”

He caught her arm and jerked her to a stop and then groaned as she stumbled in her heels. Steadying her, he reached up to touch her cheek and it was a blow to the heart when she turned away, averting her face before he could make contact. ”h.e.l.l, Chaili, you know what an a.s.shole I can be when I don't think through every f.u.c.king thing that comes out of my mouth,” he whispered. ”You used to tease me about it all the time...”

”Yeah.” She nodded. ”I know. Like I said, it's not an issue. Over and done. Now let me go.”

”Let me take you home.”

”No. I'll call a cab or walk. It's not far. I need some air anyway.”

”I want to drive you home,” he said. h.e.l.l, he was edging too d.a.m.n far into desperation territory here, but there wasn't much he could do about it. He was desperate. Ready to beg, if he had to.

”I already said no.” Her voice was flat, firm. And when she tipped her head back to glare at him, there was a harsh glint in her eyes. ”And if you don't let me go right now, you're going to be very, very sorry.”

”I'm not ready to let you go...” h.e.l.l. He'd just discovered this part of himself. Of them and she wanted him to walk away because he was an a.s.shole?

Her eyes flicked over to the side and her mouth curved. ”Think it through, Marc. I'm getting ready to p.i.s.s you off so bad.”

Narrowing his eyes, he glanced over.

Apanion appointment. That was how Shera liked to label them. Kept it all nice and impersonal.

Four hundred dollars-her cut from the thousand Shera had received. Four hundred bucks for what was supposed to be a few hours at a party. Not bad. Not that Chaili had even wanted the d.a.m.n money anyway, but now she felt nauseated.

Ignoring the check, she stalked into her bedroom, jerked off the dress and kicked it and the heels into a corner. Her feet were killing her-walking had been just plain stupid and it was close to three miles from the point where Marc had pulled off the interstate. She'd ended up calling a cab but not soon enough. Her feet felt like somebody had pulverized every last bone.

Wiggling into a pair of slim black jeans, she tugged on a loose, cowl-necked s.h.i.+rt and slid on a pair of her nicer sandals. The things were old. Most of her nice stuff was. She couldn't afford the good stuff anymore, but that was okay. Sooner or later, she liked to tell herself. Sooner or later...

Once she'd changed, she stormed back into the kitchen, shoved the check into her pocket and dug up the keys to the car Shera let her use. Shera had two of them. One year, Marc had given her a sporty little Roadster for a Christmas present, so the practical SUV Shera had paid off mostly sat unused. Chaili knew the truth of it, although Shera would deny it.

Shera kept it around so Chaili could use it, and it was a sc.r.a.pe on Chaili's pride too. There were so many of them over the past few years, so d.a.m.n many.

But this wouldn't be.

It took thirty minutes to get to Escorte and she made the entire drive dry-eyed and clearheaded. She'd known what she was getting into when she insisted on doing the date with him. Maybe she should have pushed harder. Insisted that she not sign the f.u.c.king contract, or maybe even just called Marc, told him she'd like to go out with him.

She'd known what she was getting into-she'd signed that d.a.m.n contract. And maybe it had been laid out to protect him, but it had screwed her. She should have realized how he'd perceive it and argued harder, or just said screw it.

Now it was done and even if he tried to insist he didn't mean it as he'd said it, it was still an ugly, awful wound inside her. One she'd have to come to grips with, somehow.

First, though. This.

Get through this, go home. Maybe get drunk. Cry in a hot tub of water. Sleep it off. And tomorrow, she'd get back to real life. h.e.l.l, if she could afford it, she'd take a few days off...

Wait a minute.

The cabin.

Gina had been inviting her up to the cabin. One of the designers she knew had a cabin about an hour away from Chicago and was always inviting Chaili to come up there when she decided to head out. If she remembered right, she'd seen a tweet from Gina about heading up to her place...

Yeah. She was going to see if Gina was up there. And if so? She'd go crash with a friend for a few days. Lick her wounds. She could still work up there, do what she needed to do. And get away.

Sounded like a plan.

With that in mind, she shoved through the door to Escorte. Shera was there, in the client seating area, going over a file with Brienne, one of the office a.s.sistants.

They kept a skeleton staff on weekends, usually one of the a.s.sistants and a personal companion specialist-another of Shera's labels. But there were only two of the ”specialists”. Shera and Deana. And Deana was out on maternity leave so Shera was working a lot of extra time lately.

Shooting Brienne a quick look, she focused her attention on Shera and then stormed into the big office that Shera claimed as her own.

Seconds later, the door shut.

”You don't look happy,” Shera said quietly.

”Tear up the contract.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out the check. ”I don't want this, either. I never wanted it. Do something with it. Donate it to the shelter you sponsor or something.”

Slowly, Shera reached out and took the check. ”You could use the money, sweetie.”

”I don't need the f.u.c.king handout. I don't need charity. I don't want the money,” Chaili said slowly, enunciating each word. ”Either take it, or I'll cash it, come back here with the money and super glue all over that pretty gla.s.s table out there in front.”

Shera sighed, folded it in half and dropped it on her desk. ”I'll make a donation in your name then.”

”You can make it in the name of Peter Pan and Captain Hook for all I care. Just don't let me see that d.a.m.n thing again. And tear up the f.u.c.king contract.”

Spinning on her heel, she headed to the door.

”Chaili, what's wrong?”

”Nothing. Everything. I'm done with this and if that idiot brother of yours comes by, tell him I'm dead.” She glanced over her shoulder as she said it and watched as Shera went pale.

”That's not funny.”