Now, why had I gone and looked at his ring finger? This was some rich bastard corporate raider. The kind who ate poor girls like me for dinner and then spit the frayed remains into the gutter to be swept away like sewage. I sighed and leaned back into the corner, pressing my spine into the railing, trying to disappear.
He mumbled something so I rushed to fill the awkward silence with a crack about my crappy job, leaving out the lurid details. And then he spoke, offering me his hand and I couldn’t swallow the molten hot lump in my throat. It was a voice I’d never forget. Because it had affected me more than it ever should have. Just minutes ago.
“Did you say Chastity?”
On the phone, his voice had sounded sexy, but it came nowhere close to how he sounded in person. I felt my lower belly twitching with an irritating amount of arousal. Never get married to the job. That’s what my mentor, Candy, had told me during orientation.
“Just get through the day,” she’d admonished many times. “You’re a good girl, and you’re going to school to better yourself. Don’t end up here permanently.”
I cringed and backed up even farther, but the wooden hand rail was already digging into the tender flesh of my back. There was nowhere to go but out. Once these damn doors slid open.
Escape.
I’d never wanted anything more. He took up space. Not merely because of his massive size but because of something else. It felt as if all the oxygen had been pulled from the confines of the square elevator car. I struggled to draw breath. And now, he towered over me, questioning me. Shit. I clamped my eyes shut against the rising panic that surely he could see.
“Yep, that’s me,” I said, smiling up at him but my attempt at a sunny expression turned out to be a subtle baring of teeth. I might as well fully confess because this guy didn’t look anything close to stupid. “I think we met on the phone just now.”
I filled the silence by inwardly chastising myself.
You idiot! Of course you just met on the phone! How many men named Chase do you think work in this building? And his voice. And the way he’s looking at you…
I shook my head. I couldn’t get an accurate read on him. He shot me a bemused grin. And was that a blush overtaking his chiseled features? Not even possible. Sure, I didn’t look exactly like the description I actually gave guys over the phone. But I was selling a fantasy. I’d never tell, but most of the women working with me were average to downright homely. Hot chicks didn’t have to work as phone sex operators. Not to mention that my description changed multiple times per day. Sometimes, I was a statuesque blonde, other times I was a petite brunette spinner. My look depended on my client and his needs. Either way, I sure as hell didn’t tell the truth. Too short, too curvy, and with dirty blonde hair that would never stay perfectly coiffed.
“I don’t believe you,” Chase said. He grinned a crooked smile, and I felt my heart melt. “Want to prove it to me over dinner?”
I rolled my eyes. The elevator descended at an infuriatingly slow pace, pitching and straining under the effort of the pulley system. “There’s nothing to prove. Chastity Sexe is my name. My real name. I’ve got to be getting home now.”
The moment I heard the ding, I sprung forward to race ahead of him. The heels of my stilettos reverberated off the Italian marble floor like rapid fire as I escaped.
“Boyfriend?” He called from somewhere behind me. I didn’t turn. I wouldn’t turn. Only one thing could come from turning. “Is he expecting you home soon?”
Heartbreak.
I rolled my eyes again, discouraged by the flush that rose to my cheeks and flung some words over my right shoulder. “No. Not a boyfriend.”
“Cat?”
I could hear the pounding of his loafers and his voice carried more weight. He was closing the gap. Damn it. Why had I chosen slow footwear today? Because the four-inch Jimmy Choo hand-me-downs made me feel almost human. To my disgust, I felt my blush turning an even deeper shade of red. He’d hit the nail on the head.
“Her name is Trouble,” I snapped, running faster. “Because that’s usually what I get into unless I go home to take care of her. She’s pissy in that adorable feline way.”
I could almost feel his humid breath chasing down the back of my neck. I kept waiting for those long, elegant fingers to clutch a handful of my discounted T.J. Maxx blouse.
“A lover of animals,” he said, huffing a breath. Good. I’d made him tired and straining for air. Why didn’t he stop and just go away? Back to his Park Avenue penthouse? I knew about NYC guys like him. All cash and zero substance. Born with a silver spoon and all that. “I like that. So I couldn’t possibly tempt you away from Trouble just for a few hours? For a meal at Daniel?”
I gasped. Daniel was the most expensive French restaurant in NYC. I’d wanted to go for years, but never thought it would be possible. My roommate, Trina, and I always joked about taking ourselves there after graduation, but I know that was about as much of a pipe dream as most of my delusional fantasies. Life never went my way. There was no way I could even afford a presentable dress for Daniel, much less a meal there.
After a few seconds, reality set in and I skidded to a halt so fast he almost ran over me. I spun on a heel and narrowed my eyes at Chase as he stepped away. Pedestrians anxious to return home filed by us in various stages of dress and at various speeds. Almost as if the scene had been brought down to slow motion for clarity. I was pissed. More at being taunted with what I could never have than anything else. I didn’t like poverty thrown in my face.
“Despite what you may think from our talk earlier, I can’t be bought,” I spat somewhere in the vicinity of his soft as butter leather loafers.
And I sure as hell don’t have the cash to go Dutch. Even to McDonalds.
“And besides,” I added, gazing down at my black pencil skirt. “I don’t date clients. Strict rule. I’d be fired if they found out and I need my job.”
Chase smiled again – that heartbreaking crooked smile I already knew would haunt my dreams.
“I’m not officially a client, right? No cash exchanged hands. So I couldn’t tempt you for just one small little date? Coffee? A walk in Central Park?” He smirked, and I felt my cheeks heating again. I didn’t like his effect on me, and all I wanted was to get to run toward the subway so I could get the hell away from him. “It doesn’t have to mean anything. We wouldn’t have to continue our earlier conversation.”
It doesn’t have to mean anything. The famous last words of every rich fuck trying to get in a poor woman’s pants.
“Right,” I said, rolling my eyes.
A racing woman in a black Michael Kors trench jostled me at the elbow, and Chase reached out a hand to steady me. A wave of electricity crackled from his fingers, straight through my arm and settled in my chest. Tightening it to a point past ache to pain. I scanned the perimeter, trying to strategize an escape route. I felt more awkward than I ever had in my entire life.
Women openly stared at Chase and then gave me a passing glance. Rejected. Like the ugly duckling standing next to the beautiful swan in all his vibrant plumage. I didn’t have to have ESP to know what they were thinking. I was beneath him. They knew it. I knew it. Why in the hell didn’t he know it?
Because all he wants is a dive into my panties. That’s all. I’d revved his engine with our earlier phone call.
People still darted around us left and right like some kind of smelly human river. Something about Chase attracted and repulsed me at the same time. He was the same kind of guy that I hated – rich, cocky, and handsome enough to think he can tempt any creature of the female persuasion into falling for him. Hook, line, and sinker. Well, I may be as low on the Totem pole as an earthworm, but I wouldn’t be his live bait. I’d had my share of his brand of asshole in the past. I didn’t need another one – especially not smack dab in the middle of senior year. Nothing was more important than graduating and moving on with the rest of my life.
“How about a ride home, then? Wouldn’t want
you to keep Trouble waiting.” His voice was perfectly sincere, but the mocking grin on his face told me otherwise. He pointed a long finger to a Town Car about a block away with a kindly Hispanic man standing outside, holding the door open to the sleek, black vehicle.
“Diego?”
He waggled his eyebrows. “In the flesh.”
A shiver crawled down the small of my back when I thought about how his voice would sound whispered into my ear.
No.
Everyone knew Nolan Banks and his staff. This man was not for me. Not now. Not ever.
“Sorry, but I shouldn’t,” I lied. “I always take the subway.”
He grimaced at the word subway as if he’d sank is teeth into a bitter pill. “I have a nice ride. Don’t tell me you’d prefer the subway over Diego. He’ll never get over it if you refuse. See him over there? Looking pathetic? Holding the door open just for you?”
I frowned as I realized that I’d never been in a limo before … even though I’d always kind of wanted to try. Just like I’d never been to Daniel before.
“I see that,” I said curtly. “And Diego appears to be a very nice man. Look, Chase, it was great talking to you and all, but I need to get going,” I said, stepping away and hoisting my ratty tote bag higher on my shoulder. “I really do have to go.”
“That’s too bad,” Chase said. He stared down at his phone – some kind of fancy rich person Palm Pilot thing, and frowned. I liked his handsome face far better when lit with a smile. Why did I care? I was never going to see him again. “Looks like there’s some kind of major delays on the MTA…” Chase held his phone out toward me as he pursed his lush lips in a perfect oval pout. “Lots of train delays. Looks like you won’t be getting home for a while if you take the train. Trouble might piss in your shoes.”
I groaned and felt my shoulders slump down practically to my ribs.
“Damn,” I muttered.
While I had some cash on me, I couldn’t use it for a cab. I needed to buy something to eat on the way home, and Trouble needed fresh litter.
“Sure I couldn’t tempt you with that ride?”
Fuck him and his optimistic, knowing grin. I wanted to smack it off his face.
“Fine,” I snapped. “But that’s it. You’re just driving me home. I’m never to be seen or heard from again as far as you’re concerned.”
Chase chuckled to himself in a self-assured way. I could practically see the gears turning behind his chocolate brown eyes. Well, if he thought he had me just because I’d be in the back seat of his limousine, he had another thing coming. I’m sure Diego could hear me screaming even through the sound-proof glass if this joker tried anything inappropriate. Just because I worked for an erotic business didn’t make me a whore. That would be the furthest thing from the truth.
“Got it,” Chase said. “Let’s go, milady. Your chariot awaits.”
I managed to stay a few paces ahead of him in spite of my heels and his legs for miles and was able to slide into the car with assistance from Diego. The extra few seconds allowed me time to burrow into the corner of the lush, leather seat. No way could Chase Bradenton sidle up to me without it appearing so awkward he’d lose face if he tried it.
Diego fired up the engine, and it purred to life. A minute later, I was cruising through downtown Manhattan in the poshest car I’d ever seen, let alone sat inside. The inside smelled like money – new leather and some kind of spicy cologne. Gucci. Chase reclined next to me, kicking his long, elegant legs up on the opposite seat.
“Refreshment?” Chase grinned. I watched him slide open a hidden panel and pull out two crystal flutes and a bottle of champagne. “Does the lady care for champagne after her long day?”
My mouth watered but I shook my head. “I shouldn’t. I have to study later.”
Chase eyed me carefully from head to toe, his gaze inspecting the seams of my clothing. I winced – I knew I didn’t look particularly sharp in spite of my skirt and blouse. But designer clothing didn’t land at the top of my list of priorities. A wave of shame washed over me, and I felt less than in his presence. Everything he had on was high-end and tailored to perfection. Even his hair was mussed in the latest style. As if running his fingers through it only served to make it sexier. After his inspection, I felt like melting into a puddle and dripping out of the limo door.
“Studying for your Masters?”
I rolled my eyes. “No, undergrad,” I said. “I’m at Hunter, it’s my last year.”
“And you’re studying to be the next Manhattan Madam, I assume?” Chase raised his eyebrows. He wrapped one of his large, sinewy hands around the champagne cork and popped it open in the car. With a flourish, he tilted the bottle and caught a perfect stream of golden bubbles inside one of the flutes before even one drop could escape onto the carpet.
“No,” I said, fearing that I’d blush again. I swallowed as he studied the long column of my throat. The skin heated as if he’d touched me there. “I’m studying psychiatry and psychology. I want to be a counselor. To…” I clamped my lips shut, almost revealing something to a perfect stranger. Even though we had forged a fake intimacy earlier, I hardly knew the man. “To be a counselor. That’s what I’ve always wanted.”
“Admirable.”
Chase nodded and lifted his glass to me. He poured champagne into a second flute before I could stop him and handed it over. As I took the glass from his hand, our fingers brushed against each other, and another shiver gripped my spine in a waterfall of tingles. Being around him was incredibly disarming – I felt like I’d never been so easily aroused by a man in my entire life. It felt dangerous, intoxicating … exactly the kind of thing I needed to avoid.
I would avoid him. I would.
“See, you did want a drink,” Chase teased as I brought the expensive crystal to my lips and drew a tentative sip, then another longer one. “Maybe you’ll change your mind about dinner too?”
His hopeful tone was almost my undoing, but I inhaled a fortifying breath and looked away before his soulful eyes could hypnotize me. I took another sip of champagne – it was fruity, floral, and with a slight alcoholic bite. I had to be careful. I was a lightweight when it came to alcohol. One glass was enough to make my head spin.
“Come on,” Chase continued. “Just a quick bite at Daniel?” He lifted his fingers to his lips and kissed them. “The caille is perfection!” He stared at me and licked his lips. “And of course, it’s my treat since I asked you to dinner.”
It was tempting. Like drinking the Kool-Aid at the Jonestown massacre. And the end result might be similar. Complete and total annihilation by the cult leader of love. But suddenly, feelings of disgust and contempt overcame my rational mind. Who the hell was I, getting in some limo with some hot random and drinking champagne? Contemplating dinner at one of the city’s most expensive restaurants that required jackets? And all because some asshole felt sorry for me due to my unfortunate choice of college employment? Or that I’d managed to turn him on by doing that same job? What would he expect from a sex worker after dinner?
It wasn’t me. It was someone, maybe, but not Chastity Sexe. I wasn’t that kind of girl, the kind of girl who could be bought. I had integrity. Values. In spite of how my mother had raised me. I knew right from wrong.
The limo pulled up to a red light, and I thrust the flute of champagne at Chase, grabbing the door handle with my free hand.
“Take this,” I said sharply, shoving it into his chest as if it were laced with poison. “I have to go.”
The remaining champagne splashed out of the flute and over my fingers, but I didn’t care. The limo door pushed open to reveal bright sunshine, and then I jumped free, refusing to be bought.
Chapter Three
Chase
“I don’t know, Nolan,” I hissed through the iPhone’s receiver like a fire breathing dragon shooting flame balls from my engorged nostrils. A fantasy monster pissed as hell. “It’s never happened to me before. What did you do when Charlie pulled th
is shit?”
Silence reigned supreme. “I got nothing for you, buddy. I fucked it up seven ways from Sunday with Charlie. Even if I had any, I’d tell you not to listen to my advice.”
“I want to offer her an internship,” I threw the words out there and then waited for the censure. I really had no right to offer Chastity a position at Banks without running it by Nolan. Ever since his bitchy mother, Anne, had been knocked down a peg, Grantham made it clear Nolan ruled the roost. “A paid internship.”
“I’m okay with that.”
What?
“Did I hear you correctly?” I asked, unable to keep the surprise from my tone. “Why aren’t you bitching at me?”
“It’s obvious you’re into this girl, Chase,” Nolan crooned. “Charlie and I both agree it’s time for you to move on with someone you actually like instead of just someone you like to fuck. There’s a distinct difference.”
Thank you, Captain Obvious.
I snorted and scrunched up my nose, choosing my next words carefully. I didn’t want to talk about her. I didn’t want her name mentioned in polite company. I didn’t want even the tiniest thought to infiltrate my calm demeanor. I’d grieved what happened and put it in the past.
“I’m well aware of the distinction.”
“Glad to hear it,” Nolan said in his superior drawl. “We can talk about it more when you get in here. You’re late, you know.”
If he’d been standing in front of me instead of sitting in his cushy leather office chair, I’d probably be hard-pressed not to throat punch his cocky ass. He’d mastered the art of being late to work due to his hard partying and hard womanizing ways. Charlie had made him soft. But even I had to admit, her influence was the best thing that had ever happened to Nolan Banks.
“I know. I’ll work late tonight. I didn’t sleep at all.”
Nolan sighed. “I get it. Where did you meet Miss Chastity by the way?”
What to reveal? “She works in the Banks building at her part-time job.”
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