by C. Luca
“I fell wrong,” I say lightly.
He nods and turns his attention to the tablet’s screen.
While he’s distracted, I debate how to approach him with journal. He might reject the idea. Well, there’s only one way to find out. I move away and pick up the journal before returning back to the island.
I clear my throat.
Corbin pulls his eyes from the tablet, visibly distracted.
I set the journal in front of him. “Would you please update Nathan on how the meeting went?”
He glances at the journal before his eyes flicker back to me. “Sure.” He returns his attention back to the tablet.
That was easy, and I’m relieved and hopeful that the journal will be beneficial to Nathan, and maybe even to the others.
EIGHTEEN
Nathan
When I wake, I already know that Corbin had taken over. Still, I glance at the digital clock on the nightstand to verify that he’d only taken one day. That’s when I note the unfamiliar leather bound book beside the clock.
I’ve never seen it before.
Curious, I reach for it and sit up, opening it to the first page. It looks like a journal of some sort, but I don’t recognize the writing. I begin to read it, and it dawns on me that it’s a full account from Corbin about how the meeting had gone.
I’m completely dumbfounded.
Why would Corbin…
Elena.
She’s the only person I can think of that would put him up to it. I also take note of how I feel. It’s actually nice to have an account of Corbin’s day without having to ask Cameron or Griffin.
Something shifts in my gut over Elena’s thoughtfulness.
While I ready myself for the day, she remains on my mind. I can’t deny that I’m incredibly attracted to her, and her gift makes me want her all the more, but I need to honor her wishes. It’s hard, but it’s what she wants.
When I enter the kitchen a short time later, I find breakfast keeping warm while Elena’s nowhere in sight. With a shake of my head, I go in search for her. She has a broken wrist, and yet she’s still determined to do as much as she possibly can. I admire and respect her tenacity.
A minute later, I find her cleaning a bathroom.
“What is it with you and bathrooms?” I can’t resist teasing. She cleans them constantly. I don’t think us men are that messy, but evidently, she must think so. Or else she just likes cleaning them. To each their own, I guess.
I’d startled her, but she immediately breaks into a smile upon seeing me. “The bathrooms around here outnumber the rooms.”
I think it over and realize she’s right. “Good point. How’s the wrist?”
She shrugs. “A hindrance more than anything.”
I study her, watching her reaction as I say, “You asked Corbin to write in a journal.”
She searches my expression right back. “I did.” She hesitates. “Did I overstep?”
“No, not at all. It was thoughtful, and greatly appreciated.”
She looks relieved. “I thought it’d be nice if you guys had a way to communicate.”
Not long ago, I would have balked at the idea, but somehow, Elena makes it seem…possible. “I’m open to the idea,” I reveal.
Her smile brightens. “I’m glad.”
“Knight’s not going to be for it, though,” I can’t resist adding.
“Leave Knight to me.”
NINETEEN
Elena
The next day, I need to restock groceries. Cameron offers to take me shopping, but I want to call an Uber and go on my own. Now that I have a phone, a necessity he had stated would make my job a little easier. It’s important that I not rely on Cameron and Griffin so much. I need to be able to handle the demands of the job without help.
At the grocery store, I push the cart with my good hand and think about Oliver and how much he loves frozen pizza. I put plenty in the cart. Nathan prefers to eat healthier and will eat anything that has chicken in it, so I stock up on chicken breasts and vegetables. Knight will eat anything. After I also stock up on Griffin and Cameron’s favorites, I go about adding extras, and lastly, I grab beer. Everyone seems to drink it, so I keep it well-stocked.
At the register, I pay with the credit card that’s strictly for groceries and household items, and remind myself not to forget to give Cameron the receipt. By the time I’m pushing the cart outside, the Uber I’d requested is waiting.
The driver—an attractive man in his early thirties—jumps out and helps me load the groceries into the back of the SUV. He appears friendly and has a kind smile.
He offers me the passenger seat, and I settle in and carefully pull on the seatbelt. It’s humid out today, and I’m thankful that he has the air on and it’s gently blowing my way.
As he pulls out of the parking lot and merges with traffic, he comments, “You know, you look familiar.”
My heat skips a beat, and I immediately begin worrying that he’d seen me at the club. I don’t recognize him, though to be frank, I never tried to remember any of the men there.
“I get that a lot,” I lie. “Everyone tells me I look like an actress—I can’t recall her name.”
He slows the SUV for a red light, and his brow furrows. “No, I don’t think so.” His eyes slide to me, and they roam my face. “I swear we’ve met.”
No, no, no, no… I’m beginning to feel incredibly uncomfortable, and the air is no longer cooling me down. Instead, my body temp is rising, and I can feel perspiration forming along my hairline. The strip club I’d worked at is quite popular, and it’s hard to guess how many men have seen me. Probably a lot.
The light changes, and the man faces forward and concentrates on driving. A long silence stretches between us, and I’m praying for it to continue as I gaze out my window. This ride can’t end soon enough.
“This is seriously going to bug me. I’m typically good with faces,” he says.
I remain silent.
“What happened to your arm?” he asks with interest.
“I tripped,” I say quietly, hoping he’ll stop trying to carry on a conversation.
“No boyfriend to take you where you need to go?” he questions.
“He works during the day,” I lie.
“He must have a good job.”
I glance at him. “What makes you say that?”
“Not a lot of people can afford where you live.”
“I don’t actually live there. I’m an employee,” I say stiffly.
He’s oblivious to my lack of enthusiasm over the conversation. “What exactly do you do?”
I’d like to ignore him, but my mother had raised me to be polite. “I help take care of the estate.”
Unfortunately, he looks even more interested. “You work for an actor?”
“No.”
“Not much of a talker, are you?”
I just give him a polite smile, wishing he’d take the hint.
Another lengthy silence takes over until he suddenly hits the steering wheel, startling me. “I got it! You’re Raven from the club.”
I tense as my chest begins to ache. As much as I want to escape my past, it’s always going to be there.
He glances at me admirably. “You’re fucking hot without your clothes.”
I cringe in the inside.
“You’re not really a maid, are you? You’re getting paid to screw your employer. Lucky bastard.”
“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” I say stiltedly.
He tosses me a knowing smirk. “I’ve seen you naked, can’t go back from that.”
Screw polite. I turn and give him a cool look. “That doesn’t give you the right to make assumptions.”
He snorts. “Really? We both know the dancers at the club are paid to fuck in the back rooms.” His eyes lock on mine. “You going to deny that?”
My jaw clenches so hard that I can feel pain radiating up into my ears.
“Thought so,” he says with a chuckle.
“I don’t suppose we can renegotiate the price of this ride?”
“I would appreciate if you didn’t speak to me the rest of the ride, and instead, focus on your driving.”
He looks thoroughly offended now. “Don’t talk to me like that, or I’ll let you out right here.”
I’d like to tell him to go ahead, but then I’d be in quite the predicament with all the groceries I’d bought. I just want to get back to the estate.
“You think you’re too good for me, don’t you?” he sneers.
“I didn’t say that,” I say levelly.
“Your attitude says it all. But if I were at the club, you’d suck me dry for the right price. You’re a whore, whether you’ve got that body covered up or not.” His eyes snare mine. “You don’t like the way I’m treating you? Maybe you should have reconsidered your chosen career. Because sweetie, no one’s going to forget, and if it’s respect you’re wanting, you lost it the second you set foot on the stage.”
My chest burns fiercely with shame, and I turn my head and stare sightlessly out the window. Thank God we’re coming upon the gated community.
As we slow for the gate, I reluctantly hand over my ID so the driver can show the guard. The barcode is scanned, and then we’re motioned on ahead as the gate slides open.
The man releases a low whistle as he drives up the paved, winding road. “You must have some sweet pussy.”
Thirty more seconds, I tell myself. This is almost over.
“This one, correct?” he asks, slowing at the bottom of the driveway of the Lancaster estate.
“Yes,” I say rigidly.
As soon as he pulls up to the estate, I am shoving cash at him and then scrambling out of the SUV. Using my free hand, I pull open the back and begin pulling out one bag at a time, setting them on the ground.
The driver’s side door begins to open.
“I’ve got it,” I say calmly as I quickly pull out the last two bags.
Thankfully, his door shuts, and he remains in the vehicle.
I’m finished emptying the trunk, and I step back and wave a hand that he can go now. The vehicle begins to drive away, and the second he’s gone, my shoulders droop and my eyes sting. That was the worst drive ever. I feel small, dirty, and shameful.
It’s stupid. I don’t know him, and his opinion shouldn’t matter, but his words had cut deep.
I was a prostitute.
There’s no escaping that cold, hard fact.
Knowing I can’t let my emotions interfere with my job, I push them aside and pick up two bags of groceries, bracing them against my cast as I carry them inside. It takes me five trips to bring all the bags inside, but no one notices except Blue, who follows me in and out each time with his natural curiosity. Cameron and Griffin are probably busy, and Nathan is likely in the studio. I’ve never been so thankful for the quietness of the kitchen.
I focus on putting all the groceries away, and when I’m finished, I grab my iPod and cleaning supplies. I make my way downstairs where no one will likely come across me for a while.
Cleaning has always brought me comfort. It calms me. Maybe because it reminds me of my mother. As I scrub the bathroom floor just down the hall from the small theater, I listen to music. In my opinion, a bathroom can never be too clean.
A hand touches my shoulder.
I let out a squeak and yank the earbuds out of my ears, nearly falling over as I spin around.
Nathan is squatting in front of me so that he’s eye level, his brows furrowed. “Are you okay?”
“Why would you ask?” I ask a little too sharply, still reeling from the drive home.
His eyebrows lift, and he gives me a strange look. “You’re scrubbing the floor like you’re trying to put a hole in it.”
“Just a stubborn stain,” I lie.
The look he gives me states that he doesn’t believe me.
I stare back at him steadily. The very last thing I want is to talk to Nathan about what happened. My chest tightens as I gaze at him. I can’t deny that I long for him, but we come from two opposite worlds, and I have no business getting close to him.
When I don’t confide in him, he appears visibly disappointed.
“Did you want something?” I ask, careful to keep my tone light.
He hesitates and then shakes his head, rising to his feet. “I came down to see if we had anymore chlorine in storage.”
“Would you like me to go check?” I ask, rising to my feet.
“I’ve got it.” He gives me a brief smile before he turns and heads down the hall, leaving me to my cleaning.
* * *
I can’t sleep that night.
The driver’s accusations continue echoing throughout my mind, and it’s like a vice is tightening around my chest. I don’t want to give into the tears, because the past is riddled with all my choices. No one forced me to do the things I did.
I’m too restless to remain in bed, so I slip on a robe and make my way out to the patio, settling on my usual lounger. It’s a little chilly, so I wrap the robe closer around my body and gaze out at the city lights of LA. It’s a beautiful night, but it’s hard to enjoy when I’m feeling so down.
If I could go back in time, would I do anything differently? I don’t know. Had I known what the outcome would be, would I have slept with my employer instead of running away? Either way, I would have chosen to give up my body, and I’d still be sitting here—struggling with my self-esteem.
“Elena?”
My head whips around, and I find Nathan standing several feet from my lounger. In the moonlight, I can see that he’s shirtless and wearing only jeans.
“I said your name. Twice,” he explains.
“I didn’t hear you,” I say as I quickly pull together my composure.
He motions to the lounger next to mine. “Mind?” I gesture that it’s fine, and the lounger squeaks as he settles his weight on it. “You seemed lost in thought.”
“Just one of those nights,” I murmur.
“Same here.”
A lengthy silence lingers between us.
“Something happened when you were out shopping, didn’t it?” he guesses.
“No,” I lie.
He sighs and rubs the back of his neck before dropping his hand. “Why are you lying to me? Did I do something to make you doubt me?”
“Of course not,” I say immediately.
“Then what is it? There’s this distance between us that wasn’t there yesterday.”
“It’s nothing, Nathan.”
“It’s clearly something,” he counters back.
Frustration rises within me. I don’t want to confide in him, not about that part of my past. I hate that he already knows I’d sold myself to whoever could pay for it. “I don’t want to talk about it,” I whisper in a fierce tone.
“If it’s bothering you this much, I think you need to. Holding it in will only cause it to fester.”
I choose not to respond to his statement.
“Come on, Elena,” he prods.
“It’s stupid,” I mutter, and I can feel my resolve crumbling beneath his persistence.
“Why?”
“Because his opinion shouldn’t matter, but it does,” I say bitterly, thinking of the Uber driver.
“Did Cameron or Griffin say something?”
I shake my head.
“Who then?”
My lips press tightly together for a moment, and then I release a resigned sigh. “The Uber driver. He recognized me from the club. It…actually happens a lot,” I admit.
Nathan shifts and rises to his feet, coming to the end of my lounger and straddling it since my knees are drawn to my chest. He’s directly in front of me now. “What did he say?”
I shrug.
“Don’t make me pry it out of you,” he warns.
I give him a wan smile. “You sound like Knight.”
“For once, I’m fine with that. Now, talk to me.”
I scrub my hands over my face, dreadi
ng the conversation that’s unfolding. “The conversation was exactly the kind that you’d expect, Nathan. Can we leave it at that?”
“No, we can’t,” he says in a steely voice.
“He said everything that I already know, it just wasn’t easy hearing it out loud, okay?”
He scoots closer, his jean-clad thighs pressing against my bare toes. “Tell me.”
“You’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you,” I say bitterly.
“Yeah, I am.”
“He just reminded me of all the things that I am.”
“And what are you?” he presses.
“A whore. It’ll follow me wherever I go and—”
Nathan quickly but gently places his fingers over my lips, preventing me from finishing. “Enough,” he says softly.
My chin drops, and his fingers leave my lips.
He leans forward and frames my face with his hands and places a tender kiss on my forehead.
“Don’t,” I choke out as tears sting my eyes.
He carefully tilts my head so I have no choice but to look up at him. “Why?”
“Because I’m the help. I’m…dirty, used…”
“The hell you are,” he cuts in, his tone fierce. “You’re beautiful, hard-working, honest, and you deserve respect—no matter your past, Elena.”
I shake my head in denial. If that were true, people wouldn’t keep looking at me the way that they do.
“You’re not dirty, and definitely not used. I see a woman that was taken advantage of. You did what you had to in order to survive. We all make choices that we one day live to regret. That’s life.”
A tear escapes and trickles down my cheek.
His thumb captures the droplet as he leans in and brushes his lips against mine, startling me. His lips pull back an inch to say, “I think you’re gorgeous. Inside and out.”
As much as I want this, I can’t let it happen. “This is a bad idea—”
His lips claim mine, preventing me from finishing the sentence. I can’t help but release a moan as his tongue teases the seam of my lips. Nathan slowly pulls back and says, “Bad idea or not, this is all I can think about. Kissing you.” He brushes his lips across mine again. “And proving that you’re worth so much more than you think.” He kisses me softly once more before pulling back. “I just want to be close to you, to take your pain away.”