Played

by Colleen Charles

  Harper Payne.

  But he doesn’t even know you, Harper.

  He’d met an impostor named Laurie Arnold. I felt guilty over my duplicity, but at the same time thrilled to live vicariously through my feistier alter ego. My mind drifted back to our banter and teasing. Harper Payne could never do that with the hot guy. Oh, how I’d wanted to be back in high school. Junior high even after my budding woman’s body had awakened for the first time. But I didn’t dare. And Reed and Milo had solidified that notion with their constant validation of me as the smart girl. The friend. The confidante. But never, ever the girl that guys wanted as a woman. I could take on any role I wanted with Reed this way, and not the chubby, plain girl next door that didn’t even rank as a contestant in his lexicon of potential sexual partners. Maybe now, I could get some closure.

  I’d been angry with him for a long time, and I’d forgotten just how much. When I read all about his skiing accident, and his misfortune at the hands of a greedy agent and a faithless ex-wife, I remembered smiling. Feeling vindicated. Seeing proof that what goes around, comes around. Now I felt ashamed that I didn’t see the other side of the story or even care one whit to find out the whole truth.

  I didn’t even know he had a daughter. And when he told me about her, it all became clear. I could see the pain he hid beneath his chiseled exterior, and the enormous toll it must be taking on him. Enough to make him seek out someone like Irene Sutton. He may have deserved a little comeuppance for his arrogant ways and sense of entitlement as a professional hockey player. But not this. Not being taken for everything he had and left with the burden of a sick child whose mother had abandoned her.

  A stuck-up jock, an overpaid, over-privileged NHL star, and a fickle friend. Reed Matheson had been all the above. But he’d grown up. Evolved. Been edified, tested, and broken by the school of hard knocks.

  And deep down, I knew I still wanted him. I couldn’t deny it. Especially not to myself.

  But where could it lead? The only thing a fling with Reed would result in was a one-way ticket to nowhere. How long could I keep up this ruse, this charade of being someone I wasn’t? What would his reaction be if he found out? More like when he found out. I lived in a fragile house of cards, and it was only a matter of time before my cover got blown. Thank God neither he nor Olivia recognized me. There didn’t seem to be a winning scenario in any of it. I’d started something I could never finish.

  Olivia Sheridan… nee Woodward. I mentally berated myself for recalling my sycophantic efforts to befriend her back in high school. To get close to the cool new girl and hope some of her novelty charm and popularity would rub off on me. Always a good strategy, especially when you’re the nerdy fat girl from the wrong side of the tracks—a living testament to the barracuda theory. Only I was the one who got shredded with her razor-sharp teeth.

  I arrived at my ultra-chic, ultra-expensive condo with the pain of both a brewing headache and old wounds still as raw as the day they’d occurred. A bitter laugh escaped my lips when I realized my own brilliant invention had no chapter or support group for broken hearts. Of all the people MediGo could help, I wasn’t one of them.

  Chapter Ten

  Reed

  “You’re right, I apologize.”

  “Apologies aren’t enough, Reed,” Irene fumed, castigating me like a toddler who’d just tried to touch a hot stove. “What I told you yesterday was in strict confidence. I trusted you! And you abused that trust. Why would you do that?”

  “If you’d just allowed me to contact her, this would never have happened,” I argued, trying to placate the woman who looked about to launch into orbit. In my racing mind, I pictured the check for Jessica’s treatment going up in flames on the back of my errant ways. The ordinarily calm, smooth-as-silk businesswoman morphed into a Valkyrie when angered. It didn’t flatter her, as it brought out the wrinkles she worked so hard to conceal.

  “If I’d never hired you, this never would have happened,” she pointed out. “Mr. Nash is one of my highest-grossing escorts, and I don’t intend to lose him. He threatened to resign last night because of your actions. Said you publicly humiliated him in front of the other patrons of a popular restaurant in town.”

  “Let him resign, then. He’s overreacting. He got off with a paid night without ever having to put out. If I embarrassed anyone, it’s Laurie. And she didn’t mind. She was glad to get away from him. She told me so.”

  “That is not the point, Reed. If my clients are dissatisfied, they come to me, and I’ll make it right. You had no right to barge in on them and cause a scene. I have a reputation to uphold, and you embarrassed me, too.”

  Ironic statement coming from a madam engaged in illegal business activities.

  “I can only say I’m sorry, Irene. I have no desire to tarnish your reputation or your company. I just got carried away. I liked her and wanted to see her again. End of story. It’s nothing more serious than that.”

  “Well, she doesn’t want to see you. She’s made that clear,” Irene said, regaining some of her composure and placing her eyeglasses firmly on the bridge of her nose. “Consider this a warning. If you ever approach Ms. Arnold again outside the express consent of this agency or my client, your association with Irene Sutton Formals is dissolved. Is that clear?”

  “Crystal,” I said, folding my arms across my chest. “I’ll play by the rules from now on, I promise.”

  But could I? There seemed to be a magnetic force running between me and Laurie. I’d never obsessed about another woman the way I had about her. Imagining her lush curves beneath me, stripped bare while she trembled with lust under my hand. I took a few deep breaths and waited until the dust settled a bit before speaking again. I needed this job, and it wouldn’t do to piss off the boss any more than I already had.

  “Do you have any other clients for me?”

  Irene looked up from her calendar, a pinched expression on her groomed features. “I wouldn’t hold my breath, Reed. After what you’ve done, I’m reluctant to send you out on another assignment until I know I can trust you and be certain of your loyalty.”

  Part of me breathed a sigh of relief when Irene said those words because I didn’t want to fuck another woman when I couldn’t have Laurie. The other part of me wallowed in guilt over my lack of funds for Jess’s treatments. When in doubt, resort to the tried and true, I always said. Time to bring out the guns. I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees, so she had an unobstructed view of my straining biceps.

  “Then let me prove my loyalty. Tell me how.”

  Irene’s eyes made a circle tour from my face to my arms, to my crotch and back again. Christ, it was like coming on to my mother. I stifled a wave of the shivers so she’d never know the truth.

  “I understand your reasons for wanting to stay in my employ. You were very open and honest with me about your financial concerns. I see no reason not to be open and honest with you.” She removed her glasses and set them back onto her polished desk. “I plan to retire soon and can’t afford to take unnecessary risks with my agency. I might regret taking you on in such haste, but I see promise in you, Reed. Possibly even management. Unfortunately, you’re a bit of a loose cannon. I think you need more training in the finer points of the escort business.”

  Management?

  “I’m all yours,” I said, keeping direct eye contact but picturing myself leading a team of gigolos and hookers. I watched a calculated, suggestive look form in hers, and I knew why she excelled in this business. Probably was a high-class call girl herself back in her hay day. She who sits at the top of the mountain. The guru. The Geisha. I submerged a chuckle, picturing her in long flowing robes with bell sleeves while a gong tolled softly in the background. I’d slept with worse, and with far less motivation. Since Jess was born, I’d held myself to higher standards, but part of being a parent was doing whatever the hell it took to keep your kid safe and healthy. Even a date with the crypt keeper.

  Her gaze lingered on me like I was a
steak behind the butcher’s glass case. I wondered if she’d started this high-risk business just so she could have ready, willing, and able younger meat to satisfy her geriatric pussy whenever she snapped her fingers.

  “I’ll let you know when I can… schedule something appropriate.”

  I smiled, convinced that she’d never call my bluff, but willing to dangle the possibility in front of her nevertheless.

  “Just tell me when and where.”

  Irene seemed to shake herself out of a trance and reached into a filing drawer in her desk. She handed me a sealed envelope from its depths.

  “For now, your pay.”

  “Thank you. I can really use this.”

  The envelope felt as thick as the stack of hospital application forms I’d filed earlier. I squeezed it firmly between my fingers, the singular smell of crisp bills fresh from the bank wafting up to my nostrils.

  “I understand,” Irene said with a nod. “I hope all goes well with your daughter.”

  I nodded and stood to leave. I had to get back to Jess right away. I’d left the kindly resident manager lady at my apartment since she’d offered to keep my daughter company while I attended this five-alarm meeting. Turns out it was more like a two-alarm. I tucked away the information that Irene tended to indulge her flair for the dramatic.

  “And Reed,” Irene said as I turned toward the door, stopping me in my tracks with her husky bedroom voice. “Stay by your phone so I can reach you at all times.”

  I glanced back over my shoulder to see her crack a mysterious smile, loaded with lascivious intent.

  “Yes, madam. Er, ma’am.”

  I returned to my apartment, aka The Slum, just in time to see my aging landlady getting an introduction to personal computers lesson from my daughter. I approached the kitchen nook on stealthy feet to appreciate the incongruous sight, at the same time hoping like hell they hadn’t stumbled onto my library of—ahem—private photo albums.

  “Goggles?” the old lady croaked as they sat side by side at my kitchen table.

  “Google,” Jess repeated patiently, tapping the laptop keys like a pro. I hadn’t realized the online first-grade curriculum taught typing. How things had changed since I was a grade-schooler. “It’s a search engine. You can find anything you want to know about. Just type in a question.”

  “Are you ladies solving the world’s problems via the internet?” I asked as I poked my head around the corner.

  “Hi, Daddy!” Jess said, her bright smile lighting up her otherwise wan face. God, I loved this little girl more than anything. Sleeping with every woman on Irene’s client list wouldn’t be too great a price to pay for her recovery. Every cell in my body yearned to see her grow up happy and healthy, go to college, get married, make me a grandpa. Well, maybe not that last bit. But damned if I would let anything get in the way—ego or pride—of giving her that chance.

  Our landlady rose from her chair with a grunt. “I’ll never understand computers,” she said. “Don’t have much use for them and Facepaint and all that social whirl but I can sure see this little lady knows her way around them. I’ve got carpets to clean. Excuse me.”

  “Bye, Mrs. Bellows,” Jess called as the woman shuffled out.

  “Thanks again, Annie,” I added, closing the door behind her. I turned back to Jess as she sat perched on a kitchen chair, the glow from my laptop screen reflecting on her intent little face. “So, teaching old ladies new tricks, are you? How did she do?”

  Jess wrinkled her nose. “She’s hopeless. Did you hear that, Daddy? She thinks Facebook is called Facepaint.”

  I laughed and sat down next to her in Annie’s vacated chair. “And you’re an expert, I suppose?” It made me think of something. “Hey, I met a friend who really is an expert. She’s a girl, too, just like you. She built a big website. An important one that helps lots of people.”

  “What’s it called? Let’s go there.” I helped her type in M-E-D-I-G-O, and in a few seconds, the screen displayed. “Wow,” Jess said in that whispery voice of wonder that only little girls could pull off. “Look at all the colors… and the menus!” She immediately started to pull down menus and navigate to a myriad of pages. She couldn’t possibly read the technical language I devoured with my eyes, so her excited perusal of the site amused me. A page popped up with charts and some diagrams of human organs and cellular cross-sections. “Eeeww,” Jess said as she clicked on the pictures. “Gross. What are these, Daddy?”

  “Medical stuff. Things that doctors and nurses work with.”

  “Is your friend a doctor or a nurse?” she asked, her eyes brightening. “I love nurses. They’re so nice.”

  “I don’t think so,” I said, considering the possibility that Laurie could indeed have some kind of medical certification in addition to her IT credentials. “She’s just very smart. Click over here,” I said, pointing to the ‘About Us’ tab. Finally, perhaps a solid lead on the very brilliant and very private Ms. Laurie Arnold would appear. Something I could use in my mission to dig into the depths of her soul after I ravished her body.

  The page contained a verbose blurb on the history and mission of MediGo but not much else. No photos and bios of the CEO like I’d hoped to find. Damn. This girl sure took pains to remain incognito. I scanned further down to find a list of names and roles near the bottom of the screen but was disappointed again. A formidable roster of executives and researchers appeared, consisting of M.D.s and professionals with long strings of incomprehensible credentials. One line even referred to a contributor named Dr. H. B. Payne, but that sounded like some stuffed shirt molecular biology professor from Cambridge, England.

  A frown creased my forehead as a random thought crossed my brain. Unless… Laurie was lying? Making it up, pretending to be someone else to impress her dates? She didn’t need to lie because her dates were a sure thing. I discarded the idea, irritated with myself for even thinking it. When did I become so cynical and untrusting? Then the answer reared its ugly head.

  Since your wife cheated on you and robbed you blind, you chump.

  “I don’t like this site, Daddy. It’s boring. Can I play a game instead?”

  “Sure you can, sweetheart. But just for a few minutes, I don’t want your eyes to get sore. Doctor’s orders.”

  “Okay,” Jess sighed, her disappointment every bit as enthusiastic as her joy.

  I bookmarked the site and made a mental note to go back there later when she would be asleep or otherwise occupied. No matter who built it, MediGo still looked impressive and full of information that could help my situation. I was determined to glean any knowledge I could to help Jess. Somehow, I felt certain that Laurie Arnold lurked behind those complex codes and algorithms, and just as certain I would find her, and the truth, if I just looked hard enough.

  Chapter Eleven

  Harper

  I sat at my desk, working my way through emails and electronic meeting requests, struggling not to sigh in boredom. Though tedious at the best of times, today the task seemed even more annoying. My thoughts were a conflicted mess. Being close to Reed Matheson again, even for just a few short hours, had thrown me for a loop. My body hummed with electric anticipation as if soaring high on a lust drug so my concentration all but flew out the plate glass window. It was affecting my job, and nothing pissed me off more than that.

  Julie approached with my standard tall, nonfat misto with cinnamon sprinkles and set it near my elbow.

  “You asked me to review our community support calendar,” she said.

  I leaned back and hooked a finger in the handle of my coffee mug, glad for the interruption from the cyber noise and my troubled mental ramblings. Now if only the glorious rush of caffeine could help me escape the tingling in my body, I’d be good to go.

  “Right. It’s time to share the love.” I’d asserted that one of the major pillars of MediGo’s business plan would be charity donations. All the good intentions, sharing of knowledge, support and promotion of best practices didn’t mean much
without real dollars dedicated to research and development of medicines and treatment.

  “Remind me what events you’ve committed to already?”

  “Not me, you,” Julie said, waving off any culpability. “I’ve looked into every pet cause you suggested and came up with a budget and a calendar. My involvement ends there. The big decisions involving cold, hard cash rest on your plate, boss.”

  “Aw, just think. You could sit through hours of heartfelt speeches and catered appetizers, and tote around a big cardboard check.”

  Julie rolled her eyes heavenward. “Thanks, but no thanks. Besides, I shouldn’t be the face of MediGo. You should be.”

  “It shouldn’t have a face at all,” I argued. “MediGo is about many faces. All different, unique, and equally important. I just help bring them together.”

  “Well, you can wear a mask if you like, but your presence is confirmed at the fundraising dinner for the Children’s Leukemia Foundation on Friday.”

  “This Friday?” I repeated. “That’s the day after tomorrow. How did such a big deal slip my notice?”

  Because you’ve been obsessed with a certain blast from the past.

  She threw me a no shit look. “It’s a five thousand a plate dinner, and we booked two seats. Plus, a fifty-grand donation on behalf of MediGo, so you’d better be there. Who are you going to take? And don’t say me, or I’ll throw an assistant fit.”

  I took a sip of my brew a little too quickly, and it burned my tongue. Shit. I’d forgotten all about it. I’d need a date. I left a message with Irene telling her about the disaster with Cody and was rapidly losing the stomach for another setup with the potential to go horribly wrong.

  “No one you know,” I said, wincing in temporary pain as I thought about how I could get out of attending.