To the Highest Bidder

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To the Highest Bidder Page 10

by Clare Connelly


  “Carter had some party to go to tonight. He didn’t want me to go with him. He thinks I might have ‘been with’ one of the men there.”

  “Who? Which one?”

  “Not any specific one. Apparently he thinks I’ve hooked up with half of New York. And because he also apparently thinks I’m secretly a hooker, he’s convinced I’ve had sex with all of them. That would have been awkward for him, so he’s benched me for the night.” Hysteria threatened to bubble from her. “But that’s okay. Because he’ll probably find someone else to fixate on tonight.” She took a big gulp of wine and sobbed at the same time.

  “Oh, Janey.” Jenna came around the kitchen bench and put her arms around her friend’s waist. “Come on. It’s not that bad.”

  “It’s a mess.” She sobbed against her friend’s shoulder. “I think I’ve done something really stupid.”

  “What?”

  “I think I might love him.” She closed her eyes. “I know, I promised I wouldn’t get serious. But I couldn’t help it. I was in way over my head.”

  “Janey, Janey, Janey. You have to stop seeing him. This is going to ruin you. Trust me, as bad as it feels now, it’s going to feel worse if you keep going on like this.”

  “I know.” She bit down on her lip and stepped back. “I know you’re right. I can’t believe I thought there was a way this might work out.”

  “Did you?” If Jane had needed any convincing that her hopes were unfounded, Jenna’s expression would have done it. “Come on, Janey. He’s a really hot, filthy rich bachelor. Great sex is pretty much all he was offering. This was only going to work if you could just enjoy the sex and draw a line in the sand.”

  “I enjoyed it. But I want more.”

  “He won’t give you more. Look at tonight as evidence of that. If he wanted more than sex from you, he’d have you there on his arm no matter what your career was.”

  “You’re right.” She dipped her head forward. “How could I be so stupid?”

  “Because he’s really gorgeous.” She smiled. “Come on. Let’s put on a lame movie and get drunk.”

  “You have to work tomorrow.”

  “Yep. But I love you. And if drinking red wine on a Thursday night is what it takes, then sobeit.”

  “Thanks, Jen.”

  They never got around to the movie. Instead, they drank a bottle of wine and bemoaned the state of the male species, before finally going to bed well after midnight.

  Jane’s temper had not improved, though. She stumbled a little as she hopped into bed, and reached for her phone. This isn’t going to work for me.

  She sent it without another thought, and shut her phone off.

  The next morning, she woke with a fuzzy head, a yucky taste in her mouth, and a heavy heart. She turned her phone on and immediately received his reply.

  Quitting isn’t an option. Get your ass over here tonight.

  That was it.

  Well, stuff him. She read the message again and again through the day, trying to appreciate his mood from the tone. Angry, definitely. Beyond that, she didn’t know. Seven o’clock came and went. She left her phone in her bedroom, as she sat and had an ostensibly leisurely dinner with her sister and best friend. She should have expected that he would do something dramatic.

  And yet, when the knock came at their door just before ten, she frowned. “I’ll get it.” Her eyes met Jenna’s and she winced, before plastering a smile on her features for Anita’s benefit.

  She pulled the door inwards. Of course, it was Carter.

  She threw a look over her shoulder and stepped into the dimly lit hallway. His face was murderous, his eyes glowing with emotion.

  “What the hell is going on?”

  She jutted her chin out defiantly. “You can’t be here.”

  “Why the hell not?” He sighed raggedly, pulling at his hair. “Why must you keep so much of yourself locked away from me?”

  She snorted. “You can talk! Last night you went to a party without me because you’re ashamed of who I am.”

  “To protect you from questions. Not because I am ashamed of you, Jane. Do you realise that if the media saw us together and got wind of who you are and what you used to do, it would be in all the papers? How would you like that? You guard your privacy fiercely, even from me. A man who has been in your body every night for almost a month. And yet you tell me nothing! If I had taken you last night, you would now be exposed to a media scrutiny that you cannot possibly comprehend.”

  She dropped her eyes. “Is that really the reason? Are you being honest with me?”

  He exhaled an angry breath. “I don’t lie, Jane. If you want to be followed by photographers asking crude questions about your sex life; if you want to have ex-clients selling their stories; then be my guest. Let’s go out right now. We can go to the busiest bar in the city and make love in front of everyone. If that’s what it will take for you to understand that I’m not ashamed of you, I’m fine with that.”

  She mumbled something under her breath. He put a hand under her chin and tilted her face to his. “What did you say?”

  “I said that I didn’t realise. I thought you were embarrassed by me. It hurt my feelings.”

  “Thanks to my father’s spectacularly poor judgement, the Mann-Hughes name is synonymous with scandal. The press would lap up another instalment. I’m reticent to give them the satisfaction, particularly not as I fear it would all be at your expense. But it’s your decision.” He dropped his hand and thrust it deep in his pocket. “I did not want to hurt you, Jane. In fact, hurting you is the last thing I wanted to do.”

  Again, she had the sense that he was about to say something. Something serious. But the door to her apartment opened inwards, and Anita stood, her disfigured face obvious in the light of the door.

  “We heard voices. I was curious.” She grinned cheekily. “Who are you?”

  Jane closed her eyes for a second and then looked directly at Carter. He didn’t react as he took in Anita’s face. Instead, he turned to Jane. “You have a sister?” It was accusing. Surprise mingled with annoyance and frustration.

  “Hey!” Anita grinned. “You’re the only person who’s ever picked that on sight. I’m flattered.” She lifted a hand and ran it over her scar. “Usually this throws people off.”

  He shook his head, staring from one to the other. “Same eyes. Same lips. Same spirit of disobedience, I suspect.” His tone was droll, and he softened it with a small wink for Anita.

  Jane couldn’t help her look of withering derision.

  “That’s us,” Anita said with a shrug, putting her arm around Jane’s waist. “Are you coming in? We’ve had dinner, but there are leftovers.”

  “I’d like that.” He didn’t look at Jane as he walked past her. Jenna was in the process of clearing the table. She fixed Carter with an unmistakably cold glance; it spoke volumes. He’d messed up, her look said, and she wasn’t planning on forgetting or forgiving any time soon.

  Anita, at least, was a friendly face. “Jane made meatballs. They’re the best. You want?”

  He nodded. He wasn’t hungry. At least, not for food. But nor was he hungry for anything else, he realised with a frown. He wanted to be with Jane, to talk to Jane, but it had nothing to do with sex. In fact, what he wanted at that moment was to talk to her properly, without the distraction their desperate bodies always wrought.

  “How old are you, Anita?” He asked, following her into the kitchen. Jane walked close behind, her expression guarded.

  “Seventeen.”

  “High school?”

  “Senior.”

  “Where do you go?”

  “Greenfields Academy.”

  It was one of the best schools on the Upper East Side. His eyes locked briefly with Jane’s. He could imagine what the fees were. And what lengths someone might go to in order to cover them. Is this why she had worked as an escort? To help their parents pay the fees?

  “Impressive.”

  “I know. It’s
an amazing school. I’m lucky.”

  Jane’s smile was tense. “Anita got a partial scholarship.”

  Even a partial scholarship would render Anita’s parents out of pocket. But where were the parents? Conspicuously absent. He compressed his lips further.

  “You must be very intelligent,” he said after a long pause. He had to force himself to remain in the conversation. How many times had Jane lamented her own lack of brainpower? Was this why? Because her younger sister was extraordinarily intellectual?

  “She is,” Jane gushed, forgetting, momentarily, her tension. “She’s been offered a full academic scholarship at Stanford and Harvard. I’m hoping she selects Harvard, for obvious reasons.”

  “Here you go.” Anita handed him a bowl with a sincere smile that was so like Jane’s it made him do a double take.

  He forked a meatball to his mouth before reaching the table. “You really are an excellent cook,” he said quietly to Jane. She looked at him without blinking. “I imagine your parents are very proud of you,” he probed Anita gently, ignoring the fact that Jane was glaring at him warningly. If she was going to be so secretive, he had to use what means were at his disposal to gather information.

  “My parents?” Anita pulled a face and looked apologetically at Jane. “How do you two know each other again? I… I presumed you were… I must have got the wrong impression.”

  Jane could never be cross with her sister. She shook her head kindly. “Carter and I don’t know each other well, darling. But you weren’t to know that.” She fixed him with a warning glance that even he couldn’t ignore. But inside, his rage was a huge, steaming pile of lava.

  “Did you meet through the bar?”

  “Yes.” Jane answered dishonestly. “But it’s very late and you should be in bed.” She stood and kissed her sister’s head. “Go.”

  Anita stood obediently. “Good night, Carter. Night, Jen.”

  All three watched her go. When she quietly clicked the door in place, the atmosphere immediately sparked with electricity.

  “Where are your parents?” He demanded fiercely, his voice cold and hot at the same time.

  Jenna looked from Jane to Carter, her face wearing a mask of disdain. “Do you want me to throw him out?”

  Carter would have laughed, if he weren’t so furious. Jenna was not much bigger than Jane. The idea of her throwing him out would have been hilarious if he weren’t so angry.

  “I’m a black belt, Carter. I could do it.”

  He lifted his hands. “My fight’s not with you, Jenna.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong.” She came to stand beside Jane, a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Anyone who upsets Jane is pretty much in a fight with me.”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t mean to upset you, Jane.” His words were urgent. “I think we should discuss this privately.”

  She bit down on her lip. “So do I.” She tilted an appreciative look at Jenna. “I’m fine. Do you mind?”

  She shook her head, but seared Carter with one last filthy glare. “I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

  Jane tapped her hand. “I’m fine.” When Jenna had padded away, Jane regarded him stoically. “I’m not a black belt, but she’s taught me some.”

  He couldn’t help the smile that arrested his lips. “Remind me to ask you to show me some at a later date.”

  She didn’t relent. She couldn’t be distracted by reminders of what they shared. “Why are you here, Carter?”

  “We had a deal. An arrangement. You cannot simply disappear.”

  She looked down. She had to be brave. Her resolve was deserting her, but she couldn’t let it. “This can’t work.”

  He ignored her statement. “Where are your parents?”

  She furrowed her brow. “Why does that matter?”

  “It just does.”

  She shook her head. “That’s not an answer.”

  “You told your sister we don’t know each other very well?” He leaned forward, his expression grim. “We have been involved in a pretty intimate relationship for weeks now, and yet you can keep a straight face while you claim to barely know me.”

  She scowled. “Details my sister does not need to know.”

  He gritted his teeth. “Anita is the reason you’re not available to me in the daylight? She’s the reason you’re my very own sexual vampire?”

  Her lips twitched and she schooled them back into an expression of annoyance. “Yes. One of them, anyway.”

  “Why? Tell me, Jane. I want to know what the hell happened here.”

  She sighed heavily. “You don’t, Carter. Remember what I said last night? I want you. I want you all the time. But I don’t want your pity. I don’t want your money – but I need it, and I hate that. Because the only thing, and I mean this, the only thing that matters to me more than my own pride is my sister Anita. If that means that I feel like the cheap hooker you first believed me to be, I have to wear that. But I don’t want your pity. Please don’t make me tell you about my life, because I know you now, Carter, and I know you’ll feel like you need to fix things up for me.”

  He felt something completely foreign swamp his system. An emotion he couldn’t comprehend. Guilt? Grief? Anger? Outrage? Admiration? Pain? He couldn’t have said. It was a jumbled mix of all of them.

  “I never thought you were a cheap hooker,” he tried to joke, then shook his head. “I don’t know why I do that. It isn’t funny. Seeing you with Hank made me think the worst of you. I know you’re not. That you never would. I apologise if I ever gave you the impression that I believe you capable of selling your body.”

  She sat down opposite him, her expression glum. “I am selling my body. And I never would have dreamed it was possible, if I hadn’t met you.”

  “That night, at the Four Seasons, I thought I was speaking to an independent, free-spirited, very beautiful woman. I didn’t realise the commitments you were fighting to protect. If I had realised that I was backing you into a corner, I would never have suggested what I did.”

  “And so we’d be nowhere.”

  It made him feel as miserable as she looked. “Where are your parents?”

  She rubbed a slender hand across her brow. He wasn’t giving up, and she suspected he wasn’t going anywhere until he got what he wanted.

  “My mother died when I was young. She died shortly after giving birth to Anita. She had a stroke. I don’t remember much about her. The way she smelled – like roses on a summer morning. She liked to sing. Jazz songs, like Billie Holiday. She played piano, and she laughed – a lot.” She couldn’t look at him. She couldn’t see the pity in his face. “Losing her drove my father around the bend. I think he used to be a good dad. He was a New York City cop. Homicide squad. His job was tough, and without my mom, and with two daughters in a tiny apartment, he just kind of … lost it.” She looked around for a water, and, when she didn’t see one, reached for Jenna’s half-finished wine instead. “He held it together. In a way.” She lifted a hand and touched her cheek. “One day, when Anita was two, he left some eggs boiling on the stove.”

  Carter swore, and braced himself for what he knew was coming.

  Jane’s voice was just a whisper. “I saw her going to the kitchen. But I was annoyed with her.” She shook her head. “She’d been crying all night. So I ignored her, even though I knew she wasn’t allowed in there.”

  He reached out for her hand but she pulled it away. “No pity. No comfort. Remember?”

  He nodded. “Go on.”

  “She pulled the handle. Boiling water scalded her from the top of her head to her chest.”

  He swore again.

  “I was watching goddamned cartoons, Carter.”

  “You were what? Seven?”

  “Yeah. Old enough to have been less selfish.”

  He fought the urge to tell her how silly that anger was. To be cross with her seven year old self.

  “My dad made it another ten years. He left us when I was seventeen. By then h
e was a pretty mean drunk, so I wasn’t especially sorry to see him go.”

  “What do you mean, he left you?”

  “Walked out. Went to work one day and never came home. He closed his bank accounts. He left.” Her laugh was thin. “He did leave a hundred dollar bill on the fridge, so I could at least buy a few groceries.”

  Carter felt a consuming rage for the man he’d never met.

  “I was never academic anyway. I dropped out of school and started working at a bar. It was a celebrity hang out. A scout noticed me, and asked me to join the agency. The money was enough to support Anita, pay her fees, and cover our bills. Plus, it left me free in the days to run the apartment. You know. Cook, clean. That sort of thing.”

  His stomach turned over when he remembered his own senior school and college years. His most serious worry was how to cure a hangover and where the next frat party would be.

  “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

  “Because it isn’t your problem. It’s not a problem, anyway. That’s the wrong word.” She shrugged. “Anita is the most beautiful, sweet person in the world. I adore her. Having been able to give her what she wanted most in the world – a great education – has been a privilege. And Jenna… she’s a lifesaver. We went to school together. When dad left, she moved in, and she’s been a part of our family ever since. So you see, Carter, you can’t pity me, because in all the ways that matter most, I have a great life.” She stood up, her anger returning. “And I don’t need you feeling sorry for me. Accusing me of selling my body because what? You think I’m too lazy to get a ‘real’ job? That I’m killing time until I find out what I really want to do?” She shook her head. “I’ve known what my real job is this whole time. Raising Anita.”

  Carter stood too, but he didn’t dare touch her. After what she’d said, he wasn’t sure he had any right to touch her. He moved across the room, lost in thought.

  “Where’s your dad now?”

  “God knows. He could be dead. He might as well be, for all I care.”

  He looked out of her window. It faced another apartment. “This is why you had that strong reaction to the scotch? With Karina?”

  She nodded, grudgingly impressed by his recollection. “Cheap scotch was his drink of choice. To this day, I find the smell nauseating.”

 

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