Paid Companion

by Nia Forrester

  And come to think of it, Kevin wasn’t feeling Lia being in a club without him either, for precisely the same reason. She was right though. The only way to test this thing, to make sure it wasn’t about proximity and convenience was to see whether it survived outside of Kingfisher Key.

  Leaning on one elbow, looking down at her and watching her while she slept, he wished they were anyplace but Miami. He wished they were in his apartment, back in DC, or at her place. She had never mentioned precisely where she lived. He imagined somewhere on Georgia Avenue, or just off the U Street corridor, where a smattering of artist-types like Lia still lived amongst the gentrified coffeehouses and bars.

  Their entire time together had been dominated by managing Blake’s situation, and avoiding being too obvious about their attraction … She was right. Only when they were someplace else would they know for sure what this thing between them was. Last night, after Nicki had gone off to have a private conversation with Gabe, Kevin helped a still-drunk Lia into bed. She’d fallen asleep almost immediately, curled on her side. And he’d curled up next to her, watching her until he too had fallen asleep.

  Kevin sat up and stretched. Lia still did not stir. Kevin left her, and went out into the living room. Nicki was already up, wearing one of Blake’s t-shirts as a nightgown. Her hair was a mess and she was barefoot, drinking from a mug while standing on the balcony, staring out at the bay. She turned at the sound of him approaching and smiled.

  “There’s more coffee in there if you want it,” she said.

  Nodding, Kevin went to fix himself a mug and then joined her.

  For a long while, neither of them said anything, but when Kevin glanced over at his sister, she had a slight smile on her face and a look of something like serenity.

  “So, talk to me about Gabe,” Kevin said.

  “I have talked to you about Gabe,” she said. Her smile widened, like she couldn’t say his name without doing so.

  “He’s serious about you,” Kevin observed. “You should have heard him last night.”

  “I did hear him last night.” Nicki rolled her eyes. And then she looked at him. “And I’m serious about him, too.”

  “You ever think it’s weird, though?” Kevin said. “How your life, Blake’s life … how we live our real, authentic lives in secret?”

  Nicki looked at him. “What do you mean?”

  “We hide the things that mean the most to us from the rest of the family. Especially from the old man.”

  Nicki’s eyes dropped, and she took a sip of her coffee. “Yeah. It is weird. But no, I never thought about it.”

  “We need to stop,” Kevin said. “Don’t you think?”

  Nicki nodded slowly, and then she looked at him again. “What have you been hiding?”

  Kevin gave a brief laugh. “Well I’m not seeing anyone in secret. Or dating men on the sly … But I’ve been … I still take pictures.”

  His sister’s eyes widened, and then she smiled. “Kev. But that’s … amazing. Why would you … that’s not something to hide.”

  He shrugged. “Not often like I used to. But I still take ‘em. With my phone, mostly. Because maybe it helps me feel like I’m not actually doing photography. Because I use my iPhone.” He laughed, almost bitterly.

  Nicki nodded and made a sardonic noise. “Oh, trust me, I get it. Gabe used to want us to go out to dinner, to the movies … not just hang out at my place, or his place and cook and watch television. And I always refused. Because then I could tell myself we weren’t actually dating. And so I wasn’t actually hiding a relationship.”

  “What the hell are we doin’, Nick?”

  She leaned against him, her head against his shoulder. “I don’t know,” she said. “But I’m with you—whatever it is, we should stop doing it.”

  Kingfisher Key, FL, Sunday, 11: 34 a.m.

  Blake was looking at him, his expression grim. He stood and ran his fingers through his hair, paced a few feet away and then returned, looking at Kevin again.

  “It doesn’t mess up your thing at all, man,” Kevin said. “Your point’s been made. I need you to do this for me.”

  “You sure this is the only …”

  “Yeah. It has to happen like this. And it has to be today.”

  Blake exhaled and sat next to Kevin on the chaise lounge once again. “And they’re on their way back now?”

  Kevin nodded. “Nicki hung around to wait until Lia wakes up. They both got pretty lit last night.”

  Blake laughed. “I guess if we all need little mini-vacations from the family vacation that should tell us something, huh?”

  Kevin nodded. “Yeah. It should.”

  Blake stared out at the water. “She’s a great girl,” he said.

  “I know.”

  “Then …” He shrugged. “I’ll do it. As soon as they get back.”

  ~19~

  Biscayne Bay, FL, Sunday, 11: 34 a.m.

  Lia lifted the sunglasses for only a second before pulling them back down to cover her eyes. Her head wasn’t pounding any longer. After she took the little blue pills that Nicki offered her, the pain was more muted, muffled, but not altogether gone. And she still couldn’t abide the aggressive brightness of the Florida sun, the assertive blue of the sea. Not to mention the bumping and jostling motion of the speedboat as they raced back toward Kingfisher Key.

  When she had finally opened her eyes that morning, she was surprised to find herself alone. She didn’t recall much from the night before after walking into Blake’s condo and seeing Kevin sitting there, but while she slept, she had had the vague notion of another body next to hers. Perhaps Nicki had come in and slept there for a little while until she’d satisfied herself that Lia wouldn’t choke on her own vomit, or expire from alcohol poisoning.

  Once she’d showered and emerged from the bedroom, Lia was surprised that Kevin was no longer in the condo at all. Nicki said he had gone ahead back to the island, now that he knew they were alright, and Lia didn’t want to give too much away by appearing too interested in his whereabouts by asking more questions. They had eaten a quiet breakfast in a restaurant a few blocks away, and then Nicki arranged for the boat. The thought of going back to the island made Lia feel stifled and exhausted once again, and Nicki, too, seemed a little more subdued that usual. Whatever steam they’d both blown off at the nightclub had clearly begun to gather and build inside them once again.

  As Kingfisher Key came into view, Lia felt it building even further. Next to her on the seat, Nicki’s shoulders straightened, and tensed. Come to think of it, that was the way Nicki always appeared when she was around her parents and extended family—tense and erect as though with the expectation that one or the other of them was about to comment on her posture.

  The boat sputtered to a stop, then drifted toward the dock on its momentum. One of the dockhands was waiting, and pulled them home. And Blake was there too, waiting. In short and no shirt, tan and smiling. He helped his sister out first, and then extended a hand to Lia. She smiled and took it, happy to see him, at least.

  “I heard you were drunk and disorderly last night,” he said, draping an arm across her shoulders.

  Nicki had grabbed their things and was already walking ahead toward the cabanas. Just beyond that, Lia saw the rest of the clan, on the beach. Shading her eyes, she tried to spot Kevin but could not.

  “I was drunk, but not disorderly,” Lia said, feigning insult at his remark. “Never disorderly.”

  “Well, I can’t say I’d blame you if you were,” Blake said. Instead of leading her toward the cabanas and beach, he instead steered them in the opposite direction, toward the grove where they had begun their hike a couple of days earlier.

  “How are you doing?” Lia asked him.

  He shrugged. “Good. I think I decided some things.”

  “Yeah?” She removed her sunglasses to glance up at him. “Life-changing things?”

  “Maybe,” he said vaguely. “But we can talk about that some other time. Here’
s what’s up, Lia …” She kept her eyes on him expectantly. Blake took a breath. “The thing is, you’re … you’re …. Fired.”

  Lia stopped walking. “Excuse me?”

  Blake took another breath and faced her. “You’re fired,” he said, more confidently now.

  “But … why? Is it because I …?”

  “It’s nothing you did,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “I mean, you’re … fuckin’ amazing. And in another time and place, and if I was another guy …”

  Lia laughed without humor. “Oh my god, this feels like you are like, legit breaking up with me!”

  “I’m not,” Blake said, looking her directly in the eye. “Something tells me that you and me? We’re going to be friends for life, Lia Hill.”

  Lia felt her eyes filling. “But you want me to leave.”

  Blake nodded. “I want you to leave,” he confirmed.

  “When?” she asked, swallowing past the lump in her throat.

  “Today. Now.”

  “And … Kevin? Does he …?”

  Blake said nothing.

  “Okay, fine. So … I’ll leave.” Lia tried to push past him but Blake held her arm. She tried to pull away but only for a second, and then allowed him to wrap her into a hug.

  “Thank you,” he said. “For being here with me. For doing this.”

  “You hired me,” she reminded him, her voice flat. “To be a paid companion. There’s nothing to thank me for.”

  Blake held her away from him a little, but only enough so that he could look her in the eyes again. “No,” he said. “I mean it. Thank you.”

  Washington DC, Sunday, 9: 57 p.m.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, on behalf of your Washington DC-based American Airlines flight crew, I want to welcome you to Reagan National Airport. The local time is …”

  Lia jolted awake and took a breath, glancing past her seatmate out the window.

  “I hate when they say Reagan National Airport, don’t you?” she muttered. She was an older Black woman who, Lia imagined, remembered in stark detail why Ronald Reagan was so repugnant a memory to some people. “They almost never say Thurgood Marshall Airport when we land at BWI.”

  Lia’s other seatmate, a White man of a certain age, tensed a little but pretended not to hear the remark. Lia offered the woman a smile of understanding, too distracted by her own thoughts to engage with either side of this argument.

  She couldn’t believe it. She was home.

  She felt equal parts relieved and aggrieved.

  After her dismissal, she had walked back to the cabana and packed. Midway through, Nicki had come to join her, and seeing that she was planning to leave all the new clothes they’d bought together, insisted that Lia pack those as well.

  Did you know? Lia had asked her. That he was going to let me go?

  Nicki shrugged. Not exactly, she said.

  And Lia felt betrayed, which was ridiculous, since she had only a half hour earlier been thinking that she would suffocate if she had to spend another few days on the island, surrounded by people who were desperately unhappy, and desperate to behave as though they were otherwise. From the elder Morgans on down, they were all a bundle of lost love, unacknowledged pain, and squelched ambitions. Why shouldn’t she be happy to be asked to leave?

  Kevin had been scarce the entire time. Even when Blake walked her down to the dock and helped her back into the boat, giving her instructions about where to go to meet the car that would be waiting for her, and how to get her airline ticket. She wanted to ask him if he wanted to stay in touch, but it seemed silly. Suddenly, she looked at him and he was The Blake Morgan all over again. Even when he gave her one last hug, a curtain had closed between them. But when she turned to look back, she saw that he was at the dock, watching her leave, and stayed there until she was out of sight.

  Lia still felt the vague discomfort of her hangover, but the headachy feeling had eased a little from the sleep she got during the flight. She had the window-seat, so could wait until the congestion in the aisle had eased before getting up. She only had one large bag, still small enough to carry on, so in less than twenty minutes, she was heading for the arrivals terminal. And it was only when she was there that she realized she hadn’t called Stephanie.

  Her shoulders sagged and she reached for her phone, opening the Uber app, and summoning a ride, hoping she didn’t get one of those chatty drivers. Washington DC was full of chatty Uber drivers, many of them African, much more educated, and global-minded than the average American, and eager to have deep existential or political conversations with their passengers. Thankfully, tonight, she got a greasy-haired pimply kid who looked like a college-student making some extra cash. He barely grunted a ‘hello’ once he’d confirmed her name, and Lia settled back for a silent ride back to her apartment.

  It was stuffy inside, because she’d turned the air off before leaving, and that stupid window in her bedroom that could never stay shut, had actually stayed shut. Tossing her bag to the floor, she collapsed on her bed, and inhaled the familiar scent of peppermint hair butter that had seeped into her pillow. She’d left her hair butter behind for the trip, so the scent was like a hug from an old friend. Rolling over onto her stomach, Lia reached for her bag, pulled out her phone and texted Stephanie.

  I’m home. Don’t ask. Call you tomorrow.

  Then she emailed her boss Debbie to let her know she would be back at work next Monday. Not wanting to watch television, or even thinking, Lia turned off her phone, shut off all the lights, checked to make sure everything was locked up, swallowed an Ambien with a handful of tap water, and went to sleep.

  “I’m coming!”

  Lia stalked out into the living room, feeling sluggish and disoriented. The pounding on her door had at first been incorporated into the weird chemically-induced dream she’d been having. And then the voice penetrated all of that—Stephanie’s voice. She forced herself to a sitting position and then off the bed and toward the offending sound.

  She swung open the door and found herself facing her best friend. Stephanie was dressed in tan slacks and heels with a brown jacket. It took Lia a moment to remember that it was Monday, after all. And she was no longer in Never-Never Land with the Morgans, but back in Washington DC, where people had jobs that they needed, in order to maintain a normal life.

  “Took you long en… Damn, you look awful.”

  “Thanks.” Lia turned away from the door and allowed Steph to follow her inside. Then she turned to look at her again, pointing to the brown paper sack she was carrying along with her chic tan pocketbook. “What’s that?”

  “Jerk chicken, rice and beans.”

  “Steph. I love you.” Lia hugged her, at the same time taking the brown paper bag.

  “Your breath stinks,” Stephanie said matter-of-factly.

  “Well, I just woke up, so …” Lia collapsed on the sofa and opened the bag, pulling out two aluminum containers.

  “I’ve been calling you all morning. You know how tempted I was to duck out of an important meeting just to come over and make sure you were still alive?”

  “I texted you last night. Just to avoid exactly that kind of overreaction. I’m fine.” Lia dug further in the bag until she found a flimsy white plastic fork, and cracked open one of the containers. The spicy aromatic smell of the Jamaican food wafted out at her. She’d had some good food in Florida, but this, this was the real deal.

  Stephanie took a breath, about to say something, then instead sat next to Lia on the sofa and opened her own container of food, shedding her jacket, and beginning to eat. For a few minutes, there was only the sounds of them chewing and making sounds of appreciation at the deliciousness of the food.

  “You going to tell me what’s going on?” Stephanie finally asked quietly.

  “Yeah,” Lia said. “But not now, okay? I’m just … tired.”

  Her eyes met Steph’s and her friend read them, her gaze searching. “No one … I mean, they didn’t …”

  Lia
shook her head. “No. No one … hurt me if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  Satisfied, Steph nodded.

  But that wasn’t true. Not really.

  Kevin didn’t even show up to see her leave. The last thing she remembered was the beginning of what felt like a pretty intense conversation after she and Nicki returned from the club. And then he was gone, as surely as if he had been simply a five-day figment of her imagination. Even Blake and Nicki were beginning to feel more ephemeral with each passing minute. Less than forty-eight hours earlier, she was on a beach with white sand, staring at blue, blue water, and tasting the salty air with every breath. Already, it felt like none of it had ever happened.

  “Girl, I have to go back to work,” Steph said when she was done eating. “I’ll stop by after and we can go grab some groceries.”

  “Oh crap. Yeah, thanks.” Lia had forgotten that before her trip, she had emptied out her refrigerator of everything except the condiments in the door.

  “Be ready around six,” Steph said. She waved as she left, and Lia was alone again.

  She wondered what the Morgan clan was up to. They would all be making their final preparations to return to their lives as well. Blake would go to his condo in South Beach, but Nicki and Kevin would return to the DC-Maryland-Virginia area. Would Blake have come out to his parents by now? Was that why he had asked her to leave? Because he was planning to come clean?

  And if he did, would he let his nasty cousins, Kim and Tanya know? If he did, Lia hoped they would be kind. It felt strange to worry about someone like Blake Morgan. He supposedly had everything—good looks, wealth … but also a deep sense of isolation.

  Lia wanted to call him. But she didn’t have his number. And in the rush to get out of there, she hadn’t thought to ask for it. Despite all their claims of friendship, maybe they would all have stopped thinking about her by the weekend. And much later, chalk everything up to a funny story, a caper—‘d’you remember the time we hired that woman to pose as Blake’s girlfriend? What was her name again?