by Claire Kent
“You loved me?” she breathed, washed with a wave of awe. “Even back then? Before there was any...any hope?”
Ander swallowed hard. “I knew I felt for you in a way I’d never felt for anyone before. Sex had never meant anything to me—except for business—before you. I’ve never had sex with any feeling. Never had sex without a condom before today. Not once in all my life. And you were awakening emotions I’d never experienced. I wanted to be with you, please you, protect you, take care of you. I don’t know if it was love back then, but I didn’t know what else to call it.”
To her mortification, Lori’s eyes burned with tears. She sniffed a little and tried to suppress the ridiculous urge to cry.
Ander gazed at her for several moments. Then he leaned down to murmur in her ear. “Try to fight it, Lori. We mustn’t turn into saps.”
So she laughed instead, squeezing him in her arms and wondering how she’d ever written romance novels without really understanding what love was.
They stayed in bed all night and all the following day, dozing a little and waking up to make love or to chat or to just lie in an intimate embrace.
It was all new. To both of them. No matter what experiences they brought with them to their love.
At one point the next day, Ander asked, his tone a little diffident, “When did you know you loved me?”
Lori could see now a path leading out from this moment—filled with day after day of new experiences to look forward to, ones they could live through together.
So she smiled and told him the truth. “When I fired you.”
Epilogue
“Don’t you dare,” Lori gritted out through her teeth as she fluffed her hair in the mirror of the women’s restroom at a trendy restaurant.
Sabrina gave her a wink before she applied a new coat of lipstick to her full lips. “I wasn’t going to say a word.”
“Yes, you were. I can just see you brimming over with the urge to make sarcastic comments about Pretty Woman or The Wedding Date.”
With a long sigh and a sparkling look, Sabrina murmured, “Dermot Mulroney is hot.”
Lori couldn’t help but snicker.
Recognizing her cousin as off-guard, Sabrina went in for the kill. “But you have to admit you two are the sweetest thing,” she gushed with exaggerated saccharine. “You should write a novel about it. The Virgin and the Gigolo.”
Her cheeks warming despite her best efforts, Lori shushed Sabrina and ducked down to check under the stalls to make sure no one else had heard. “Stop it. We’re not like that. I’m not a virgin any more. And he’s not a gigolo.”
“I know. But it is kind of funny. And it proves I was right all along.” Before Lori could do anything more than growl, Sabrina went on, “And don’t think I didn’t notice how you two couldn’t keep your hands off each other tonight. He was groping your thigh under the table.”
Lori’s blush deepened and she pretended to hunt through her purse for lip gloss. “He wasn’t groping,” she insisted with indignation if not entire honesty. “We just haven’t seen each other much lately.”
“You live together.”
“I know.” Six months ago, Lori had moved into Ander’s apartment. While her old apartment was larger, Ander was really attached to his place. And Lori had grown to love it as well. Plus, it was in walking distance of the university, which made it easier for Ander to get to classes. And Lori could write from anywhere.
Lori went on to explain, “But he’s been buried in studying for his qualifying exams for months, and for the last two weeks he’s been at the library almost constantly. Now that they’re over, he can actually relax and we can spend some more time together.”
Sabrina gave her a dubious look. “Are you trying to convince me the two of you haven’t fucked in months?”
“Not months. A couple of weeks. But he’s done like three years of graduate coursework in less than two. He’s been obsessed with studying. So in these last couple of months before the exams we haven’t spent as much time together as normal.”
The closer Lori got to Ander, the more she learned about the obsessive streak in his nature. She’d known he was meticulous, determined, and assiduous in his commitment to his job before. But now that he was doing something he could pour his whole heart into, he was extraordinarily driven. Sometimes, she had trouble getting him to eat, sleep and relax. She had decided that taking care of him was her special duty and prerogative, and she’d found various strategies to distract him from his work.
Only in the last two weeks had these strategies failed.
She knew now that he’d successfully passed his qualifying exams for his degree and was starting on his dissertation, he would return to a more normal schedule.
“So tonight’s the big night?” Sabrina asked with a tart smile. “Is non-stop sex on the docket?”
“I’m not going to give you details,” Lori said, meeting her cousin’s eyes without flinching. After so long of this sort of thing, she wasn’t even self-conscious anymore. “So don’t even try to fish for our plans.”
Sabrina grumbled under her breath as she closed her purse.
* * *
Lori and Ander were leaving the restaurant after having said goodbye to Sabrina and her date when a woman waiting for a table called out Ander’s name.
Ander’s face showed no reaction as the woman—mid-thirties with dark hair and an entitled expression—came hurrying over on very high heels. Hhis hand was on Lori’s back, however, and they were walking quite close.
She felt when Ander stiffened.
“Ander,” the woman said with a wide grin. “How have you been? It’s been ages!”
“I’m fine, Becka,” Ander said politely. Then he smiled at the woman.
Lori sucked in her breath.
She knew that smile. Hadn’t seen it in almost two years. Urbane. Sensual. Infinitely practiced. It had been habitual for Ander when he’d been seeing clients.
Which meant this woman had been one of Ander’s clients.
“You’re looking good,” Becka said, her eyes crawling over Ander’s body in a way that made Lori wanted to scratch her eyes out. “You’re a lot tanner than you used to be.”
He was. It had been two months since he’d returned from his latest field project but he still hadn’t lost all the tan. This evening, he was dressed in all black, and Lori thought he was the handsomest man she’d ever seen in her life.
“I spent part of the summer on a Greek island.”
To avoid being separated for two months over the summer while Ander was at yet another dig, Lori had rented a villa on the island. Although he’d been busy during the days, they’d been able to spend most nights together. Lori had started a new novel set on the island, and Ander had blithely ignored all the teasing he received from his colleagues over his plush living arrangements.
“How decadent,” Becka said, flicking her eyes over to Lori with obvious curiosity. “I heard you were retired.”
“I am.” Ander repositioned his hand to the small of Lori’s back. “This is my girlfriend, Lori.”
“Nice to meet you,” Becka said absently, her eyes returning to Ander, raking them over his face and body like she still had a right to leer at him. “It’s too bad you’re retired. You were the best.”
Lori had been stiff from the initial greeting, but now she grew so tense she was almost shaking. She had to fist her hands to keep from clobbering the woman to rid that face of that presumptuous, objectifying expression. She was bombarded with images of Ander fucking Becka until she came and came and came again.
Ander murmured out a few parting words, and then he guided Lori out of the restaurant, using his hand on her back for both momentum and support.
“She was always obnoxious,” Ander said as they exited the building and started down the busy sidewalk.
His words didn’t help Lori feel any better. She was now imagining how Ander must have felt, required to sexually satisfy a woman as spoiled and obnoxious
as Becka.
“You all right?” he murmured, his observant eyes scanning her face.
“Yeah.” She gave him as wide a smile as she could manage. “Dinner was fun.”
“Do you feel like doing anything else tonight?”
“Sure,” she said, “If you want to.”
With one final look of scrutiny, Ander concluded, “Let’s just go home.”
* * *
Ander was blessedly quiet on the cab ride home. Lori did her best to rid her mind of the horrifying images. Ander was her boyfriend now. They were fully committed, in love, and living together. He was well on his way to being an archeologist. If his words and the evidence of his behavior was any indication, he was happier now than he’d ever been in his life.
So was Lori.
But sometimes she still hated what he used to do. Hated all of his other clients. Hated it with every glimmer of passion in her soul.
It didn’t matter that she never would have met Ander if he hadn’t gone into his former profession. She still hated it because he had used it to hurt himself.
When they returned to the loft, Lori grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator, kicked off her shoes and curled up on the sofa. She was about to turn on the television when Ander sat down across from her, at the desk in front of the windows, and looked at her soberly.
“What?” she demanded, feeling a little clench of nerves.
Sometimes it was really annoying not to be able to keep secrets from Ander.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked mildly.
“No.”
“Lori.”
“I said I’m fine,” she gritted out, “I didn’t like meeting that bitch, but it’s not a big deal.”
Ander lifted his eyebrows. “I think it is a big deal. You’re either about to scream or about to cry.”
She was actually about to do both, so she bit her lip and took a few deep breaths through her nose.
“Lori.”
“Stop trying to boss me,” she snapped, losing her patience as she lost control of her emotions. “I told you I didn’t want to talk about it.”
“All right.” Ander picked up a book and quietly began to read at the desk.
Torn between relief and irrationally hurt feelings at being ignored, Lori stewed for a few minutes, staring at the blank television set, and then she reached for her bottle of water.
Because she was distracted, she missed her target and ended up knocking the bottle over. It fell to the floor, spilling a small pool of water on the hardwood floor and Asian rug before she grabbed it and turned it upright.
“Fuck!” In a blaze of frustration, she got up to get a towel from the kitchen.
Ander had started up at the first impact. “I’ll get—”
“Just sit down.” Her tone was unjustly grumpy and part of her immediately regretted it, but she was in such a bad-temper now that her regret was quickly squelched.
She returned with a towel and knelt on the floor to wipe up the water.
She wiped and wiped and wiped and wiped, the tension in her body increasingly with each push of the towel.
“Lori,” Ander began, very gently, as he watched her from the desk.
For some reason, his gentleness was what made Lori finally snap. She straightened up, sitting on her knees with a wet towel in her lap, and she burst into tears.
“Oh, Lori,” Ander murmured thickly, getting to his feet and starting toward her.
“Don’t touch me!” she sobbed. “I can’t...I can’t ...”
Ander sat down immediately at her uncontrolled words. “You can’t what?” he asked carefully.
She sobbed some more, mopping at her face with the towel. When she finally got a hold of herself, she managed to choke out, “I didn’t want you to hold me or coddle me.”
“Coddle you?”
With a sniff and another messy wipe of her face, she said, “I’m feeling prickly.”
“I can see that.”
She shot suspicious eyes over at him, but there was no trace of humor on his face. He looked more tired than anything else.
“Do you want to talk about it now?” he asked.
“There’s nothing to talk about. We met one of your clients.”
“Former clients.”
“Former clients,” she amended with a roll of her eyes. “You know what I mean. It’s no big deal. I saw you with Sarah Jacoby before. Remember? I was your client myself.”
“But obviously seeing Becka tonight bothered you.”
Emotion still threatened to spill over into more sobs, so Lori tried to back off from the sorest of subjects. To divert the direction of his questioning, she asked, “Didn’t it bother you?”
“Yes,” Ander said. His voice was calm and his expression natural. Only his eyes were urgent as they tried to dig into Lori’s soul. “Some. But I was more worried about your reaction. With good reason, it seems.”
“I have no reason to get upset about it,” she insisted, wishing she could just make the words be true. “I’ve always known what you did. I participated in it myself. I knew you had a lot of clients.”
“All of that is true,” Ander said slowly. “But it might still upset you.” He wasn’t being sweet and gentle, really. Just bland and matter-of-fact.
Lori snuffled, trying to force back a sudden surge of violent tears. “Well, it doesn’t.”
“Uh-huh.”
Shooting him a fierce glare, she rasped, “Well, you don’t have to be snotty about it. How many other women are in my situation? It’s...it’s weird to meet women that your boyfriend fucked for money.’
She gasped and put a hand over her mouth when she realized what she’d said. Since they'd gotten together, she’d been so determined not to berate or reproach Ander for his past. It was mean and petty and futile.
Ander lifted his eyebrows slightly. “As you said, you’ve known that all along about me. You went into this relationship knowing what you were getting into it.”
“I know. But knowing is different than seeing.”
“And what did you see?”
“I saw that...that bitch!” Even Lori was vaguely shocked by the rough vehemence of her words. “That bitch—looking at you like you were a piece of meat. Like you were hers to leer at and touch and...and fuck. It made me sick.”
“I’m not hers,” he said. “I’m mine. And yours.”
“I know that.” Her voice cracked at the matter-of-fact way he’d said it—as if he had no doubt at all. “But she used to...you used to ...”
“But not anymore.”
Lori felt like an absolute fool, a blubbery mess, particularly in contrast to Ander’s cool composure. “But doesn’t it...doesn’t it bother you?”
“Of course, it bothers me sometimes, but I refuse to dwell on it. I’ve made different decisions. I’m doing something worthwhile and fulfilling with my life now. And I’m going to spend the rest of it with you. I’ve got nothing to complain about, and I’m not going to beat myself up over what I used to do.”
Obviously, Lori’s emotions were too much in a turmoil to react appropriately. His words made her so happy, soothed something so raw and aching in her heart, that she burst into tears again.
“Oh, God, Lori,” Ander murmured gruffly, for the first time his face twisting in concern. “I know it’s hard for you to think about how I was with those other women. But you know you’re the first woman I was ever really with. We’re the same in that. It's the first for both of us.”
“I know,” she gurgled. “I’m okay. You know it’s not that I blame or judge you—”
“I know. Of course I know.”
“I don’t know what’s gotten into me tonight.” She wiped her face one more time, feeling a lot better and convinced that her hysterical weeping was finally under control. “Must be that time of the month. Hormones.”
“Could be.” Ander leaned forward in the chair, gazing intently on where she was still sprawled on the floor, her pretty dress hitche
d up around her hips. “But I know sometimes all of this still bothers you.”
“It does. And it’s not just jealousy or possessiveness. I just can’t stand that they ...they used you. That I used you.”
Ander stiffened in the chair. “You never used me or objectified me. It was never like that with us.”
Lori felt a rush of tenderness at the bristling defensiveness in his tone and expression. She knew it was all in defense of her. But she shook her head and objected, “Obviously feelings developed. But, Ander, I paid you to have sex with me.”
“Yes, but it was never like it was with other clients,” Ander repeated, sounding annoyed and strangely stiff. “We weren’t like that.”
“I know what you mean. But, still, Ander. You took my money. I used your body. And I can’t help wishing it was...it was ...” She trailed off. She had no way of putting into words how she felt.
She couldn’t wish she’d made different choices because her choices had led her to such happiness with Ander, but she’d always be conflicted about how they’d gotten here.
Taking a deep breath, she used the damp towel to rub her eyes and her nose, trying to clear away the last of her tears.
She jumped when she felt a swish of air and heard an impact just next to her hip.
Then she blinked down at an envelope on the floor beside her, filled with what was obviously cash.
Gasping, she turned to stare at Ander. “Wha—”
Ander, his face unreadable, reached down into a drawer in the desk, one he always kept locked. He pulled out another envelope and sent it sailing over toward Lori.
A few hundred-dollar bills slipped out of this one as it flew, fluttering down onto Lori’s legs as the envelope landed near the first.
“Ander?” she gasped.
He threw another envelope at her. Then another. Then another. Some landed still full while others fell open. Envelope after envelope plopped down around her. Until the floor was littered and she was showered with stray bills.
Lori sat like an idiot, dazed and bewildered and delighted in the middle of a small fortune in cash.
Finally, Ander aimed the final envelope. When it landed, bursting open and spilling out money, he arched his eyebrows at Lori with obvious significance.