“Pierce?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t start acting weird. You asked me to come, to be your fake girlfriend.”
“Desire is a hard emotion to fake and an even harder one to hide,” I say. “You weren’t pretending in there. You were into it.”
“So were you.”
“You’re my best friend. We can’t let that happen.”
She busts out laughing. “You know, you really are full of yourself. Not every woman wants to sleep with you.”
“I know that,” I say.
“I’m a woman. You’re a man. If I stroke your cock, it’s going to get hard. If you push against me, my body is going to react. That’s it. It’s biology.”
We aren’t talking about what just happened anymore. We’re talking about something we swore to never discuss again.
Her voice grows quiet, and she steps a little closer. “It doesn’t mean I want to sleep with you or you want to sleep with me. That decision is made in our hearts and with our heads, not between our legs.”
“I wish that was true,” I say softly.
“It is,” she says, holding my eyes. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I wish that was true, too.”
“Annie? Pierce?”
I turn around, seeing Sutton, brow furrowed, staring at us. “Were you just inside?” Annie looks up at me, uncertain what to say. “My concierge just told me there was a couple practically having sex in the restaurant. Was that you?”
“We aren’t a couple,” I say.
“We heard about the owner,” Annie says, “and just wanted to . . .”
“My grandfather,” Sutton says.
“I didn’t realize that,” I say. “I was very sorry to hear about his death, and wanted to extend my condolences to the staff.”
She actually laughs. “More likely you were spying?”
“We weren’t spying,” Annie says.
“You think you’re the first to show up here? I get it. You smell blood in the water. Let me save you some time. I’ll be taking over the hotel. My grandfather had been grooming me.” Her bright blue eyes stay focused, not a shutter. “You know, I heard what a great businessman you are, Pierce. Have to say I’m disappointed.”
For some reason, that really bothers me. “I can assure you nothing I do is disappointing.”
“Not from what I’ve heard.”
Annie rushes to my defense. “Pierce is one of the leading entrepreneurs in this city. His ideas on city planning and revitalization have been . . .”
“I know how legendary he is,” she spits out, eyeing me up and down, and I know we aren’t just talking business anymore. She’s jealous. Jealous I was in there with Annie after I came on to her the other night. “Trust me, his reputation is not a selling point.”
“I’m a businessman. I’m always looking for opportunity, but if you’re taking over, then . . .” I hold up my hands in peace. “There are so few of us small hotel owners. We have to support each other against the chains.”
“I think so, too,” she says with caution.
“If there’s anything I can do to help you out, just let me know.”
“Why would you want to help me?”
“Because not so long ago, I was you. Trying to get an aging property back to glory. I’ve been there.” She just stares at me, hand on her hip, biting her lip. I hand her my business card. She eyes it then reaches into her pocket and hands me hers. “I’ve helped a lot of young entrepreneurs. You can ask around. Let me know if you want to talk.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“So how have things been since I saw you last?” Dr. Lorraine asks.
“No sex,” I say proudly.
She chuckles. “Okay, talk to me about your past relationships. You described your most recent relationship as open.”
“I’m generally faithful.”
“You either are or you aren’t.”
“Then I’m not, but it’s not like I’m banging anything that moves. Doesn’t work that way.”
“How does it work? With Daphne, for example, how many times did you cheat on her?”
“It’s not cheating if she knows.”
“How many times in the couple years you were together?”
“I couldn’t say.”
Her eyes narrow at me. “Less than ten?”
“Yes.”
“Less than five?”
“Yes.”
“Three?”
“Daphne became unsure about our relationship recently, so before or after that?” I ask.
“Before.”
“Just once.”
“What made you stray from Daphne that one time?” Dr. Lorraine asks.
“I was going on vacation, and she couldn’t go.”
“So you went without her and had sex with another woman?”
“She knew.”
“What about before Daphne? Did you have the same sort of relationships?”
“Yeah.”
“Would you say you are in charge in your relationships?” she asks.
“Always.”
“How was sex in these relationships?” she asks.
“You want positions now?” I ask, and she just stares at me, obviously sick of my juvenile behavior. “Look, there is a lot of sex. I’ve done it all.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” she says. “I can think of at least one thing you haven’t done.”
“What’s that?”
“Slept with someone you love,” she says, raising an eyebrow at me. “Isn’t that true?”
“Fine, that’s true.
“Okay, so the sex. Tell me . . .”
“Christ, I like sex. It’s not a crime.”
“I like sex, too,” she says. “I’m not judging you. I’m just trying to get a clear picture of who you are.”
“I’m not hard to figure out. I eat, sleep, work, and fuck. That’s me.”
“I don’t think that’s you at all.”
“You don’t?”
“No, I think you are much more complex than that. I think it’s comfortable for you to act like that’s all there is to you.”
“You’re just like every other woman. They all think they can change me, mold me into a better man. This is who I am.”
“I’m curious. What about marriage and children?”
“Not interested in those things.”
“For someone who doesn’t want kids, you sure do have a lot of sex.”
“I always protect myself with condoms, but I also had a vasectomy years ago.”
She puts her pen down, asking, “In your twenties?”
“Twenty-five, actually. It was a bitch to find a doctor who would do it.”
“That’s quite a decision to make at such a young age.”
“I like sex and don’t want kids. Seems simple to me.”
From the outside, it looks like I have it all—house, car, career. But how things look and how things really are seldom match up. Truth is, one false move, and it all falls apart.
I need to get these thirty days done. This doc is getting to me. Can’t have that.
With that, I have new resolve. I don’t want to get into anything touchy-feely. I just need to be done with this whole mess. So I promise myself no sex. I’m a terrible liar, and Dr. Lorraine can read me like a book. She knew about the Daphne thing before I even sat down. If I want to be done with this therapy shit, I’ve got to follow the diet. I’ll be done in a little under a month.
I’ll be a good boy. Every time I think about slipping, I’ll remind myself of Dr. Lorraine. She’s enough to scare away any erection.
CHAPTER NINE
I heard my dad come in the front door, so I headed out the back. His weekly visits to sleep with my mom meant an afternoon unsupervised, which usually meant an afternoon keeping Annie out of trouble. She met me between our houses, accustomed to seeing my dad’s car and knowing I’d be bolting. I slung my guitar over my shoulder, a gift from my father. He’d starte
d playing when he was my age. Guess he thought we could bond over music, but that wasn’t going to happen. I didn’t want to be anything like him, but I was. At least on the guitar.
Annie’s parents were strict, so she took every chance she got to push the envelope. Case in point, she’d walked out of the house with a backpack on her shoulder and cigarette in her mouth. Twelve years old and she already had a reputation not to be messed with. I, on the other hand, was on no one’s radar enough to have any kind of reputation.
I ripped the cigarette out of her mouth. “Those things will kill you.”
“All the fun things kill you,” she said, smiling at me. “Guess you’ll be living a long time.”
She stuck her thumb out to a passing car. I pushed her hand down. “We’ll walk.”
It was less than two miles to the levee of the Mississippi River. Our spot.
It’s where we came every week when my dad visited. Rain or shine, it didn’t matter. It’s where we came when Annie “ran away” from home. It’s where we told each other all our secrets and dreams. It’s where I practiced guitar, and Annie sketched or painted.
We walked in companionable silence until we reached the riverbank. Sitting down on the grass, the river crawled by, close enough that it looked like it could carry us away. I guess that’s what we both wanted. Sitting on top of that bank, two different views—one way back home, the other into the unknown. Strumming the guitar softly, I watched the boats glide down the river.
We stayed until the sun started to set. That’s when I knew my dad would be leaving, heading home to his wife. The woman who got the big house, the money—while my mom worked like a dog, living in our tiny little house. Yes, my dad gave her money, but only what his wife wouldn’t notice.
I loved my mom, but she wasn’t smart, believing that one day he would leave his wife for her, and we’d be one big happy family. It’s been over ten years, and he hadn’t left yet.
“Your mom been sick or anything?” Annie asked.
I shook my head. It had been a few weeks since she told me she was pregnant. If it wasn’t for my dad coming around more, I wouldn’t be able to tell.
“Do you think your mom did it on purpose?” Annie said. “Got pregnant? Hoping your dad will finally stay with her?”
“I hope she’s not that stupid,” I said. “He didn’t leave his wife when I was born. Don’t know why now would be any different.”
“Yeah, but your mom was only eighteen and a . . .”
She promptly shut her mouth, knowing I don’t like the story. Most kids probably love to hear how their parents met and fell in love. A quick screw backstage after one of his shows isn’t exactly the sitcom version of family we were all brought up thinking is reality.
“I just meant, maybe then he didn’t know it would last this long. That he would love her.”
“He doesn’t love her,” I barked. “He uses her.”
Annie turned back to her art pad, starting to talk about school, all the new ways she planned on skipping. She and I went to the same Catholic school, but that would change next year. In eighth grade, I’d start an all-boys school, and she’d start an all-girls one, so this was our last year going to school together.
“Pierce,” Annie said, “can I ask you something?”
I shrugged, unsure why she was asking because she never had before. “Sure.”
“Do you think my boobs have grown this summer?”
I rolled my eyes, partly because that was the stupidest question in the history of the universe, and partly because I didn’t want my eyes to go to her chest.
“I’m serious,” she said, smacking me. “Last year, that stupid Billy kid teased me every day in math. Calling me names and snapping my bra strap, asking me why I was even wearing one.”
“I didn’t know that,” I said.
“I didn’t want you to,” Annie said softly.
She put on a tough exterior, but I knew Annie was really a sensitive girl. “Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you again.”
“I already took care of him,” Annie said. “I asked him why he wears underwear since he has no balls.” We both busted out laughing, but then she stopped, looking down at her chest. “Still, do you think they’ve grown?”
“I don’t know.”
“Boys are so lucky.”
“Yeah, we have no problems.”
“We get boobs and periods, and what happens to you? Your voice changes. Big effing deal.”
“No, we just get hard-ons every other second. Try hiding that while walking down the hall.”
She giggled. “Sorry, it’s just all the girls are talking. Whose boobs came in? Who got kissed? Did you know Stephanie R. got felt up?”
“No, I didn’t know that,” I said, laughing.
“Have you ever kissed a girl?” she asked.
“You’d know if I had.”
I’d never even come close to kissing a girl before. Talking to them was hard enough. Annie was the exception.
“We should kiss,” she said, just like that, all business and matter-of-fact. I thought the guy was the one who was supposed to make the moves.
“Annie, I don’t . . .”
“Come on,” she said. “We’ll promise not to tell anyone. Don’t you want to know what all the fuss is about?”
I felt one of those irritating boners coming on, making yet another appearance. Apparently, he wanted to know what the fuss was about. I hoped Annie couldn’t tell, but the way she was smiling at me gave me a sneaking suspicion she did.
She inched closer, helping to lift the guitar over my neck. “You won’t blab?” I asked.
She shook her head. “This is just practice for when you really want to kiss someone.”
Practice? That sounded practical. I had heard horror stories of guys missing girls’ mouths altogether. I didn’t want that to happen to me. Was she talking full on with tongue here? Before I could ask, her soft lips landed on mine.
It was easier than I thought. She went one way, and I went the other. Our noses didn’t even get in the way.
Her lips kissed my top lip, our mouths opening and closing a little more with each movement, until her tongue found mine. What I once thought was gross, suddenly wasn’t anymore. We pulled apart. I had no idea what I was supposed to say, but I was sure of one thing.
There was no way that was Annie’s first kiss.
CHAPTER TEN
Annie wasn’t just blowing smoke up my ass when she told Sutton about my position in the city. I love this town, everything about it. It’s not made for skyscrapers and fancy new glass buildings. It’s made of cobblestone, gas lanterns, and spirits, both dead and the liquid variety.
It’s important to me that New Orleans maintain the rich culture that so many people love, so I sit on several boards and occasionally am asked to consult with city officials and those in the tourism industry on revitalization projects. It’s kind of old hat by now, but even when I’m the guest speaker, I hate coming to the things.
It’s basically a lot of bootlickers and bullshit political types, whose opinions change as quick as the New Orleans weather. I swear there is no other city in the world where you can go through all four seasons in a day. Of course, our idea of winter is fifty degrees, but still. I’d gladly take that temperature today. It’s hot as hell in New Orleans in the summer.
I’m spending the day at a revitalization conference. Funny enough, it’s being held in one of the nondescript ballrooms of a chain hotel. The irony! There are probably a couple hundred people in the room, all dressed to impress. Connections are important, even more so in New Orleans. We may be a larger city, but we have a small-town feel, which includes the rumor mill, the handshake deal, and doing business with those you know.
The cool air of the ballroom is a welcome relief, but it’s short lived. My body temperature rises about a hundred degrees as soon as my eyes land on Sutton. Her brown hair is pulled up into a bun, no doubt because of the humidity
outside, and her bottom lip is pulled between her teeth. She’s got a pen, some papers, and her phone all placed in front of her, like she actually expects to learn something today. She’s a sexy woman, but that just makes her cute as hell.
Lucky for me, the seat next to her is free, but I know that won’t last long. There are more men than women in this room, and it’s only a matter of time before one of them makes his move. Avoiding getting pulled into any conversations, I make my way over to her and pull out the chair. She looks up at me, her eyes wide, but a little smile on her lips.
“You following me now?” she asks.
“I was about to ask you the same thing. After all, I am one of the speakers today.”
Her mouth drops open, and she reaches for a brochure in front of her. Sure enough, my name is right there. Her head shakes. “I must’ve missed that.” I take a seat next to her. She looks the other way for a second before turning to me and asking, “Can I help you with something?”
“Just wanted to say hello,” I say, but that feels too safe, too much like we will only just be passing acquaintances. So at the risk of getting kicked in the nuts, I take a risk. “You look really beautiful today.”
Here’s the thing. Some men are assholes. I’m one, so I should know. We don’t call when we should or remember important dates. We don’t commit. But some men can be downright criminal—groping women, harassing them, and far worse. There’s a big difference between the two. Those fuckers make life damn difficult for the rest of us. A man should be able to tell a woman she’s beautiful without fear of coming off like a creepy douchebag, but with everything going on in the world, I understand why women are leery.
So I completely expect both her eye-roll and her tone when she says, “Woman aren’t made to sit and look pretty for you.”
“I know that.”
“Let me ask you something,” she says. “Have you ever been with a woman who’s your equal?”
I open my mouth to say something smooth, but unexpected honesty comes out. “No, they’re all better than me.”
Something about that makes her whole body soften, and she’s not looking at me like I’m the enemy anymore. Her cheeks grow pink. “So what topic are you speaking on?”
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