Hard Work

by Micah Persell

  “I couldn’t have done this without you!” The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Victoria tugged Kip into the hall and toward their room. “I don’t know how you got Mr. Davis to like you after about five minutes. I’m pretty sure he has people who have tried five years to get that to happen.”

  Kip slid the key card into their door and held it open for her. She breezed past him, drawing her next breath for a stream of words, but when she spun around, she crashed right into his chest, and in the next moment, his lips captured hers.

  Distantly, she heard the click of the door as it closed, but by that time, Kip’s fingers were in her hair, destroying her carefully put-together style. With a groan, he tilted her head, deepening the kiss. All her giddiness funneled into this merging of mouths. Fisting Kip’s dinner jacket, Victoria pulled him close, grinding her breasts against his chest.

  That got his hands to leave her hair alone—not that she’d minded. He grabbed her ass with both hands and hauled her up. She obediently wrapped her legs around his hips as he walked them across the room while she nipped along the edge of his jaw with her teeth.

  He didn’t take her to a wall or even to the mirror like he had last night. It was the soft cushion of the mattress that met her back. Her thighs cradled his body as he followed her down and leisurely returned to their kiss, licking his way inside her mouth and covering her breasts with his palms.

  He pulled from the kiss for a mere moment. “You would have done fine without me, honey.” He pressed a light kiss to her lips.

  She shook her head. “No—”

  He bit her bottom lip. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you and Mrs. Davis talking.”

  That giddiness bubbled again. “I did. I talked to her.” She said it as though it were the biggest deal of the evening and not something most people did regularly.

  “I know.” His lips were curved the next time he pressed them against hers.

  He didn’t back away again, instead, thrusting his tongue into her mouth and grinding his erection into her belly.

  She dug her nails into the fine fabric of his suit coat, spiraling into the space he always managed to take her with the press of his body against hers. She began thrusting her hips against his rhythmically, a promise of how she was going to move with him inside her. God, she loved this.

  Loved him.

  Her thrusts lost their rhythm.

  What had she just thought? Surely, it had not involved the word love. The one she’d assured Cassidy, just hours ago, was not involved in any way.

  No! Her nails curled into claws against his dinner jacket. She could not love Kip. She couldn’t love anyone! She would not. Not only had she promised herself she would never enter another disastrous relationship after Jeremy, but also, if she fell in love with Kip, everything she’d worked toward would be for nothing. She was already neglecting clients. Was perched right on the edge of achieving a goal that would require even more of her time.

  She couldn’t do this.

  Her eyes started to sting, and, no longer able to distract herself from these ugly thoughts, she pulled from the kiss. She stared up at him, and his eyes widened.

  Great. That meant she did have tears in her eyes.

  “Victoria?”

  The way he said her name—both promise and supplication—made that hated l-word flit through her mind again. Her bottom lip trembled. This was bad. Scratch that. This was hopeless. “What am I going to do when you leave?”

  She gasped. She should have never said those words out loud. And as Kip’s gaze took in her tears, her obvious anguish, there was no mistaking a quick flash of hope as it passed through those blue eyes. For a moment more, he didn’t say or do anything, and she felt her own flare of hope. Perhaps he would ignore what she’d said. Perhaps they could continue as they had been.

  In the next second, though, his eyes softened. He licked at his lips in what could only be described as nervousness.

  As he opened his mouth to speak, Victoria’s stomach lurched.

  “What if—” He licked his lips again. “What if I didn’t . . . leave?”

  His gaze darted away from hers on the last word, as though he couldn’t bear to see her reaction. Which was just as well, because react is exactly what she did.

  Her eyes popped wide, allowing one of the tears that had been swimming there to escape down her cheek. She pulled one of her hands from Kip’s back and covered her open mouth with trembling fingers.

  Oh, no. It was worse than she’d thought. Not only was she falling for Kip, apparently, he was falling for her as well. This was a disaster.

  Okay, calm down. She’d misheard him. Had to have. All a misunderstanding.

  And then she laughed. A short, hysterical laugh.

  Kip flinched, and that was when she knew she hadn’t misheard him. He shifted off her and sat up, rubbing a hand roughly down his face.

  “Wait.” Victoria sat up, too. “Did you say what I think you said?” she asked, still clinging to the asinine hope that they were preparing to resolve a big mix-up.

  “Forget it.” His words were clipped. He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall. A muscle ticked in his jaw.

  All hope died.

  She shifted her gaze from his profile to his back, unable to look at him a moment longer. “Kip, we can’t be together.” His back stiffened at her words, and panic clawed up her throat. He was going to argue with her. Try to persuade her.

  Don’t ask me to be together! She wanted it too badly.

  And why can’t you be together? The question plowed through her mind, knocking aside thoughts of Jeremy. The memories of how bad it had been for them as they’d tried to navigate his depression and failed spectacularly. She clung to those memories. To the promises she’d made herself that she’d never again have to go through what she had with Jeremy.

  But Kip is not Jeremy.

  The thought was clear. Bold.

  Blood cold terror streaked down her spine as her body relaxed, for all intents and purposes appearing to accept the comparison of Kip to Jeremy as irrefutable fact. To accept Kip.

  This can’t be happening!

  Reality. She needed a dose of reality, and so did he. Her mouth was opening before she could stop it, knowing, even as she wet her lips, that she was about to do something she’d regret. “We can’t be together,” she stated again. “It’s impossible! You’re a hook—” She caught the word back a moment too late.

  Kip jerked straight, his gaze swinging around to collide with hers. For the first time, the blue of his eyes was cold when he looked at her. “Finish it.” He ground the words out from between clenched teeth.

  Sudden anger spiked through her, flushing her first hot and then cold. Anger she needed. She embraced it, letting all the ugliness she was feeling surge up her throat and out of her mouth. “Kip, you’re a gigolo. What, should I pretend you’re not?”

  Kip got slowly to his feet. His jacket was rumpled from the way she’d jerked it around in her fists just moments before, but he still straightened it in what could only be described as a dignified manner before turning to face her. “I’m a lot of things actually. Funny that you see only that one part.”

  His words destroyed her, because they gave her every bit of proof she needed to confirm that her own callous words had destroyed him. She didn’t see just that. Wanted to make him understand that this moment.

  She curled her hands into fists. It’s best this way. If she drove him away, this would all end tonight. Victoria threw her hands up in the air. “Kip. Be real. It’s a big part.”

  “It is a big part. Present tense, huh?” He shoved his hands through his hair in the first slip of his façade and the first peek she got to the true anger he was hiding beneath it. “Even after all our plans. All I’m going to do in the future. The fact that you’re the last goddamn client I’ll ever have.” His voice rose. “I’ll always just be the hooker, won’t I?”

  His last client? No! I can’t hear this! She jerked to
her feet. “And I’ll always be the girl who drove her husband to suicide. We don’t get to shed our past, Kip, no matter how much we want to.” She jabbed a finger in his direction. “And don’t pretend this was anything other than it was. I don’t even know your real name, for Christ’s sake. We are not in a relationship; this was never anything but business.”

  A muscle flexed in his jaw, and his nostrils flared as he pulled in a long, slow breath. He looked like she’d just slapped him.

  Funny, she felt like she’d just slapped him. Her anger abated in a sudden rush, leaving her feeling hollow. Empty. In its wake, she longed to reach out to him. To smooth a hand over his tense shoulders. To say she was sorry.

  But there was no sorry. There was only necessity.

  So softly, she barely heard him, Kip said, “I’ve never once thought about you only in the light of your past.” His blue eyes connected with her. “Thought of you as his. Not once.”

  I’ve thought of you as mine. As the present.

  She heard the words as loudly as though he’d spoken them. Felt the condemnation she fully deserved.

  As Kip turned from her and walked to the door, tears tumbled down her cheeks. With his back turned, she allowed herself to reach out to him.

  He shut the door resolutely behind him.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Knock, knock, knock.

  Victoria groaned and rolled over, burying her face in her pillow. “Go away.”

  Was her pillow . . . wet?

  She pulled back and blinked down at the white pillowcase. Yep. Wet and streaked with mascara.

  “Ah, fuck.” She’d cried in her sleep.

  There was a noise at her front door again, but it wasn’t a knock this time. Instead, the very distinct sound of someone using a key to get into her apartment reached her in muffled clicks of gears.

  Cassidy. They were supposed to meet this morning and head to the farmer’s market. But that had been before Victoria had changed those plans to lying around in bed all day eating ice cream, without telling Cassidy.

  Once Cassidy saw her pillow, she would be relentless.

  She heard the door open at last, and in a very mature move, stuffed her pillow beneath her bed. She jerked upright again and shoved her hair out of her eyes just in time to see Cassidy sail through the open bedroom door, holding two coffees.

  Cassidy froze, blinked twice, and said, “Shit, your face.”

  Victoria rolled her eyes. So much for hiding the evidence. “Good morning to you, too.”

  Cassidy gestured toward her with one of the coffee cups. “No, seriously. What the hell happened to your face, because I’m guessing gang fight or . . . Wait.” She crossed the distance of the room in seconds. “Were you crying?”

  And—just perfect—two more tears made treks through what was apparently epic makeup marks all over her face.

  “Oh, honey.” Cassidy plopped down on the bed beside her, the coffee sloshing ominously in the cups, and leaned her shoulder against Victoria’s. “What happened?”

  Victoria hiccupped. “Nothing.”

  “Ah.” Cassidy shook her head and sighed. “So it wasn’t the gigolo who did something this time. It was you.”

  “I said something really terrible, and he walked out, and now I’ll probably never see him again!” Victoria wailed.

  “Okay.” The mattress jiggled as Cassidy turned to face her. “First things first: caffeinate.” She thrust one of the coffee cups Victoria’s way. “And then we have got to wash that face before we head to the farmer’s market.”

  She took the coffee and sniffed. “I don’t want to go to the farmer’s market.”

  “And I don’t fucking care. We’re going. Because it’s one thing to cry all night, but it’s another thing entirely to wear sweats for four weeks solid and gain ten pounds from Ben and Jerry’s, which, clearly, is where this is headed.” Cassidy nudged the coffee toward Victoria’s mouth, and she took an obliging sip, feeling the slightest bit more human as the brew made its way to her gut. “We’re going to talk this out and find a way for you to get your man, all while buying organic strawberries. This is the best plan ever. Embrace it.”

  When Cassidy tugged her from the bed and toward the bathroom, Victoria followed, but she made sure to glare the whole way so Cassidy would know she protested.

  Cassidy ignored her.

  Thirty minutes later, carrying her second coffee of the morning, dressed in an actual cute outfit, and tearstain free, Victoria was beginning to see the wisdom of getting out of the house.

  “So,” Cassidy said, trailing her fingers through several daisy blooms at the flower stand. “What happened?”

  “Kip . . . ” Victoria swallowed. “Said he wanted to stay.”

  Cassidy’s eyes brightened. “What? That’s great!”

  She shook her head.

  Cassidy’s smile crashed. “Oh, crap. What did you say to him?”

  She sipped her coffee and took her time swallowing it.

  “Victoria?”

  She cleared her throat. “Let’s just say the important word was hooker.”

  Cassidy gasped. “You twat!”

  Victoria groaned. “I know.”

  “I told you they like to be called gigolos.”

  “Cassidy, that’s not the issue and you know it.”

  “Well, what did he say when you apologized?”

  Victoria took another leisurely sip of her coffee and started walking quickly to a stand of produce.

  “Victoria Hastings!”

  She stopped and spun to face her sister-in-law. “Okay, fine, I didn’t apologize. But that’s because I don’t apologize for saying things that are true, and one of us needed to be remembering it!”

  “Tori, only massive dickholes think it’s okay to say something hurtful just because it’s ‘true.’” Cassidy jabbed her air quotes Victoria’s way as though they were weapons. “And I thought he was opening his own business. He’s not even in the profession anymore.”

  “I’m paying him.”

  “And judging him for it, too. It’s a twofer. He’s so lucky.”

  Victoria’s coffee sloshed in her stomach. Judging him? “Well, that ugly word puts some perspective in the mix.”

  “It’s not the only ugly word in the mix,” Cassidy mumbled. “I can’t believe you called him a hooker.”

  “Just—” Victoria sighed. “Stop reminding me for one second?”

  “That’s a big nope. Someone has to. Might as well be me.” Cassidy put her hand on Victoria’s arm. They both stopped walking, and Victoria braced herself as she met Cassidy’s gaze. “And don’t pretend this has nothing to do with Jeremy.”

  Victoria winced. Immediately, her throat clogged with more tears. “Please don’t,” she whispered. They couldn’t talk truth right now. She wouldn’t be able to handle it.

  Cassidy narrowed her eyes, capturing Victoria’s gaze. “Kip is not Jeremy, honey. Hell, at the end, Jeremy was not Jeremy. You can’t keep expecting misery around every corner.”

  The very same words she’d thought herself last night. Victoria shook her head. Stop. Now!

  Cassidy sighed, a look of resignation entering her eyes. “Okay, we’ll table this for now.” She raised her eyebrows. “For now.”

  Victoria bobbed her head. “Yes.”

  Cassidy shook her head, and Victoria knew she was safe. The mood immediately lightened.

  Cassidy nudged Victoria’s shoulder with her own, and they started walking again. “Look, Tori, you know I love you. That’s why I have to tell you these things. Kip?” Cassidy shrugged. “We don’t know if anyone loves him. If he has anyone to tell him when he messed up or when someone he cares about messed up. So, I kind of have to look out for him, too. Especially since he’s probably going to be my brother someday.”

  “Whoa!” Victoria’s arm jerked and a splash of coffee scalded her forearm. “Ow! Son of a bitch! Why would you say that?”

  “What, too soon?”

  Victoria st
alked toward the vegetable stand, shaking out her stinging arm along the way. Too soon. More apt than Cassidy knew. How could Cassidy talk about a new brother when she’d lost one? Because of Victoria no less!

  She wasn’t looking where she was going and plowed right into someone.

  She reflexively tightened her grip on her coffee cup, so she and the stranger were spared an additional scalding. She stumbled back a step and raised her head, an apology already on her lips.

  But then she froze.

  You! She just kept herself from spitting the word, but her mind sure screamed it loud and clear. Victoria had managed to run into Georgiana Masterson. “The Master.”

  Tens of thousands of people in this city, and she’d bumped into the one she never enjoyed seeing. Figured.

  As she watched recognition flash on The Master’s face, Victoria fought the desire to narrow her eyes at the woman.

  The Master did not choose to fight that battle, apparently, because soon, the woman’s blue eyes were squinty and thoroughly disapproving.

  Victoria’s chest panged. Those blue eyes. Even in someone as hateful as The Master, the blue eyes made her think of Kip. They were even the same shape.

  Damn her!

  She felt Cassidy come up behind her. “Who’s this?”

  Before Victoria could even struggle over whether she should do the socially acceptable thing and introduce her nemesis to her sister, Masterson stepped closer. There was something menacing about it, and she found herself taking a step back, bumping into Cassidy in the process.

  “I heard about your dinner last night,” Masterson said in a low voice.

  Victoria tipped up her chin. “Don’t sweat it, Masterson. You can’t win them all.”

  The Master smiled slowly and in a way that did not denote amusement. “You haven’t won anything, yet. How have you felt about your life choices lately, Hastings?” She tilted her head. “Anything untoward that you might come to regret?”

  The hair on the back of Victoria’s neck stood on end.

  “Seriously,” Cassidy said from over Victoria’s shoulder. “Who is this slag?”

  “Mother?”

  All three of their heads swiveled around toward that deep, male voice. A voice Victoria recognized at once.