“Do you have any idea how many people have strung my sister along, making promise after promise, and meanwhile stabbing her right in the back just because they could?”
“No, I don’t. You won’t share any of that with me. It’s against all your rules, remember?”
He stalked over to where I stood. “Fine. You want to know? I’ll tell you. Five years ago, Darcy met a friend in design school who loved every single thing she did. Was her greatest cheerleader and confidante. At least until they graduated, when she basically took a dozen of Darcy’s ideas to transplant back east, to work right in the middle of the fashion industry where people like Darcy aren’t exactly welcome.” I gulped, because thanks to Father, I knew all too well about that. “Her friend had the look, the confidence and my sister’s designs, so she is the one who got the job. Darcy was devastated, and didn’t pick it up again until three years ago, when my first client decided she wanted to ‘help’ her. My fault entirely,” he added at once. “Because I talked too much about myself. I answered all the personal questions. I told her the truth.”
He looked away and clenched his jaw, as if he had just admitted his worst mistake. “So in she rode in on her diamond-studded white stallion, promising to fix all of our problems. Darcy believed her. I believed her. We put all our eggs in her basket because we bought her sweet load of bullshit, which she hid behind the smile of a friend, the charitable heart of a benevolent benefactor. A lover,” he spit the words out, like they were poison in his mouth. “It was all an act, Coralie. Part of the fantasy. Her fantasy.”
I gulped hard as I listened. Suddenly it all made sense.
“She strung us along for six goddamned months before she got tired of the both of us, like some cat that grew weary of batting around her favorite mice. And it was her world. She could do whatever she wanted. She could trade up for something new. For us outsiders, we got sent back to the end of the line. Like usual.” He finally glanced at me. “You want to know about my job, Coralie? I provide the fantasy. That’s what I do. And I’m damned good at it. I have clients all over the country, women who can’t wait for me to blow into town for a weekend or a week, to give them exactly what they want, exactly how they want it. But when that weekend is over, or that week is up, they go back to their lives. They’re done. They have an exit strategy.” I gulped even harder as he used my flippant phrase against me without knowing it. “And you know where that leaves me? Finding the next lonely heart or frustrated female who has a little money to burn. My business is a numbers game, baby. I have bills to pay. And I have Darcy’s dream to support. I owe it to her after all she’s been through.” He stopped short, as if he wanted to go on but had checked himself.
“I could help with that,” I started but his humorless laugh cut me off.
“I’ve heard that before. From someone a lot richer than you.”
My head tipped. “Fine. I get it. Okay? I understand that this is just a job. And I stepped way out of bounds. But I swear to Christ I didn’t do it to hurt you or your sister. I honestly thought I could do something good here.”
He held his hand to his chest in mock gratitude. “Thank you ever so much for your kind generosity. What would we little people do without your magnanimous support?”
“You know I didn’t mean it like that!”
“Then how did you mean it, Coralie?” he thundered. “What the fuck am I to you? A project? Just admit it! I’m just another toy you can lube up and fuck before you shove it right back in the drawer!” He grabbed one of the new toys and slammed it against the wall for emphasis.
I didn’t know what to say or what to do. I had never been around someone so angry, particularly someone I didn’t know very well, if at all. “Devlin, I’m sorry.”
He took a moment to compose himself. “Me, too,” he finally said as he gathered his wallet, his watch and keys from the nightstand. “I really had a good time with you, Coralie. I thought…,” he started, but stopped himself short. Instead he ended with, “I wish it could have worked out.”
I began to panic as he headed straight for the door. “Devlin, don’t go!”
“I’ll send the dress over tonight. If you need any further alterations, I’m sure Deidre knows a tailor.” We stared at each other for a long moment before he finally said, “I’ll send for my things.”
He was out the door before I could stop him. I was on the phone to Lucy a minute later, and she was in my suite five minutes after that. She hadn’t brought Gus, because he was still (fortunately) clueless about the true nature of my relationship with Devlin.
“What the fuck happened?” Lucy asked and I just shrugged my shoulders.
“He found out about us visiting Darcy behind his back and lost his shit. He says that he never mixes business with his personal life. Iron-clad rule,” I added in a bleak monotone.
Lucy joined me on the sofa in the sitting room, one of the many places that Devlin and I had initiated in our salacious three-day fuck-a-thon. I was going to have to change rooms, it was clear.
“I can talk to him,” she said as she took my hand into hers. “It was kind of my fault anyway. I’ll tell him so.”
I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. This is what he wants.”
“Fuck what he wants. You had a deal.”
“And I broke it,” I repeated, but she shook her head.
“You were trying to help,” she said.
“I told him that. It only made it worse, like I think they’re both some kind of charity case that would be lost without my help.”
“He’s awfully proud for a gigolo,” she remarked, but I couldn’t even smile. “Fine. Hire someone else. This is Vegas, for God’s sake. You could probably get a package deal, two studs for the price of one, with a free buffet thrown in.”
Again I shook my head. That idea had zero appeal. I didn’t want just anyone. Anything else was settling at this point, just like the sequined pantsuit I had purchased for the benefit. I didn’t want just any man. I wanted a very specific man.
I wanted Devlin Masters, and I knew everyone else would pale by comparison.
“Just… make up some excuse for Gus. I’d die if he knew the truth.”
“Of course I won’t tell him,” she said as she pulled me into a hug. “Besides, he’s gone to pick up Mattie from the airport.”
Mattie was short for Matilda, Gus’s twin sister from Texas, who was the only member of his family that would be present for the elopement.
After I got cleaned up and dressed, I walked back to Lucy’s suite with her to wait. I could barely stand to look at the piano, where he had serenaded me. One of the many ‘firsts,’ and ultimately ‘lasts,’ we’d share.
God, it was shaping up to be a depressing day.
Mattie’s arrival helped somewhat. Unlike her more subdued twin, she was a vivacious character ready to take Vegas by storm, so there was absolutely no moping permitted in her presence. She was tall and brunette like Gus, but that’s where most of their similarities ended. This wild spirit from Austin was a fearless pilot of spaceship earth. It never occurred to her that she couldn’t do everything she wanted to do whenever she wanted to do it. When we walked down the strip in a throng of people, she’d dance along to the music only she could hear in her own head, high-fiving total strangers as they passed by, clinking her yard of margarita with everyone who would indulge her. She wasn’t afraid to be seen or heard, and she definitely wasn’t afraid to ask for those things she wanted. Where Gus was pretty chill, taking life as it came, Mattie was a force of nature bending the elements to her will.
I totally envied that about her.
In a vain attempt to channel her festive attitude, I dressed up in the red velvet dress for our night out. It was, by far, the most flattering outfit I owned, and though I knew I looked good in it, I still felt completely down in the mouth.
Almost every fifteen minutes, I stole glances at my phone, to see if anyone had called. If it vibrated, because of an email or a social media alert
, I’d check to see who might want to get ahold of me, with a glimmer of hope that it was Devlin reaching out, to say he was sorry, to say he changed his mind. And every time I checked and it was only an email or social media alert from anyone else, my spirit deflated once more. It made the evening a chore, though our itinerary was packed with lots of fun stuff, even a mind-melding magic show Mattie had been dying to see.
By the time they jumped in a cab for a thorough pub crawl along the Strip, I feigned a headache to stay closer to the hotel. “Are you sure?” Lucy asked me. “I feel bad leaving you all alone.”
I offered a brave smile. “I’ll be fine. I’m always fine,” I reminded. “I just need a night to myself to recover.”
“Okay,” she finally said. “I love you, Ceece,” she added before hugging me.
It was reassuring to know someone still did.
I rode by myself in the elevator up to my suite, which only reminded me of all the times Devlin had been beside me, or in my arms, or using his mouth and fingers to do naughty things to me in public like the bad boy I had wanted him to be. Arriving in the suite was even more depressing. There were no flowers. There was no champagne. Just another empty, quiet room.
I made a mental note to change rooms in the morning. I figured that would exorcise the ghosts somewhat.
In the meantime, there were other ways to dull the memories. I didn’t bother to change before I went back downstairs to play on the slots and take advantage of the free booze. I was on my second beer when a man in his forties sat at the machine next to me.
“Having good luck?”
I shrugged. “Not really.”
He grinned. “Looks like I came along just in time.” He withdrew a hundred dollar bill and slid it into the machine. “My name’s Bill.”
My throat closed tight. I couldn’t say Coralie if my life depended on it. “CC,” I finally offered.
“I’m visiting from Florida,” he said as he maxed out his bet. The reels turned. He won nothing.
“California,” I supplied, figuring the exchange was harmless enough.
“Hey, honey,” he said to one of the cocktail waitresses passing by, “Scotch, neat.” She nodded before turning to me.
“Anything for you?”
“Bottle of water,” I answered, but the man named Bill shook his head.
“You didn’t come all the way to Sin City to have water. Bring her a scotch as well.” He turned back to me with a smile. “My treat.”
It was a joke, clearly. But I could only muster a half-hearted grin. “And the water, please,” I told the waitress before she turned away.
“So what brings you to Vegas, sweetheart? Business or pleasure?”
He was starting to wear on my nerves. I wanted to be alone. “A wedding,” I finally said.
“Sweet baby Jesus,” he said with a disgusted shake of his head. “Not yours, I hope.”
I glanced down at his left hand, which sported a wedding band. “Not a fan?”
“Indentured servant,” he replied. “Seventeen years. You’re much too young to enlist in anything like that. What are you? Early twenties?”
“Something like that,” I murmured as I turned back to the machine to discourage further conversation. He didn’t appreciate the gesture.
“Hey, now. No reason to get touchy. We’re just talking. So what do you do in California, honey?”
I took a deep breath to steady myself. Clearly this guy wasn’t going to take a hint. “Family business. You?” I asked, figuring if I kept him talking, at least he’d lay off the creeper routine. These were the kinds of defenses we learned as women, to protect us from predatory men who couldn’t take a hint even if we bashed them in the faces with it.
“Sales,” he answered. “Need a timeshare?” He grinned and winked at me.
“I’m good,” I responded.
His dark eyes traveled over my exposed cleavage. “You are good, indeed,” he said in a boorish attempt to flatter me. “So are you here all by yourself, sweetheart?”
“Staying with friends,” I told him, lying by necessity to get him off of my back. A guy like this wouldn’t hear the word ‘no.’
He looked around. “And where are these friends tonight?”
“Up in the room, sleeping it off,” I said before I stood. I didn’t even care that I was up twenty-five dollars on the machine. “I should go check on them.”
He grabbed my wrist to pull me back down again. “I’d rather you check on me.”
I tried to tug my arm free, but he continued to grin at me like I’d change my mind if he was pushy enough. He started to caress my hand, which immediately reminded me of Devlin. That anyone else’s hand was on me instantly made me want to gag. “Seriously? Can’t you tell I’m not interested?”
“You waiting around for a better offer?” he challenged.
“As a matter of fact, yes!” I snapped.
He leaned toward me. I could smell the strong, rank odor of booze on his breath.
#InstantAssholeJustAddAlcohol
“Listen, honey. You’re the one sitting out here by the front door of a hotel with your titties hanging out. Clearly you’re the one with something for sale. I’ve got money, if that’s the issue.”
“Fuck you,” I gritted between clenched teeth.
His hand, which still circled my wrist, tightened. “Now you’re getting it. So what do you say we head on upstairs for a bit, huh?”
I tried to pull my hand away but he held me fast. “Let me go or I swear to God I will scream.”
“Don’t be so bitchy. It’s not like you’re that hot. But I’m horny and you’re here. We can make it work.”
“I think the lady told you to get lost,” a male voice said from behind. My head shot around to spot Devlin standing behind me, which made my heart soar despite itself.
The drunk’s grip on my wrist tightened. “Who are you?”
Devlin leaned over my shoulder to look him straight in the eye. “I’m the better offer, asshole. I’m also the guy who’s going to break your goddamned hand if you don’t let her go.”
Bill the Salesman finally withdrew his hand, holding it up like Devlin had drawn a gun. “No problems, buddy. You can have her.” He cashed out his ticket and stumbled along to the next victim who dared to play the slots by herself. I stood to face my savior.
“Thank you. That was getting a little hairy.”
His jaw clenched as he glanced over my dress. “What did you think was going to happen if you went out alone dressed like that?”
“Really? You’re going to chastise me for wearing a dress you picked?”
He cashed out my ticket, grabbed me by the arm and dragged me from the machine towards the elevator banks. “Guys like that don’t know how to take no for an answer. They’re dangerous when they’re drunk.”
“I was handling it,” I snapped.
“Yeah? Then why was his hand on your body?”
The elevator opened and he shoved me inside, and then hit the button for our floor. I couldn’t help but notice that he hadn’t released my arm.
“What are you doing here, Devlin?”
“I dropped off your dress,” he said without looking at me. “I was just leaving when I overheard that pig coming onto you.”
“Thanks for your help,” I muttered as I tried to pull away, but he gripped my arm even tighter. “Devlin.”
“Shut up,” he commanded softly. The doors opened and he pulled me down the hall to our suite. The minute the door shut behind us, he swung me up in into his arms and carried me to the bedroom.
“What are you doing?” I whispered.
He threw me on the bed. “Nobody gets to fuck you but me,” he announced before he tore off his shirt and crashed down on top of me. His mouth was on mine in an instant, crushing my lips against my teeth before dominating my mouth entirely. His hand cupped my breast, squeezing it hard as his knee parted mine.
I wanted to fight him, to punish him for the horrible day we spent apart, bu
t I was too deliriously happy to be in his arms again. My body molded around him like a glove as I wrapped my arms round his neck and my leg around his hip.
His lips grazed across my cheek towards my ear, then down my neck. I arched against him with a moan, and impatiently he pushed the fabric of my dress aside to latch his mouth onto the hardened peak of my breast. I tangled my fingers in his thick hair, pulling hard. He growled deep in his throat, responding to my urgency.
His hand trailed up my thigh, under the skirt, towards my underwear, which he yanked down without a second thought. The minute he touched me with those magical fingers I shot off into the stratosphere. Quickly, he kneeled between my knees to release himself and affix an ever-present condom. The minute it was on, he grabbed my hips and turned me onto my knees, grabbing a handful of my hair as he pulled me back against him. I was still spasming from the last massive orgasm as he entered me. I felt him shudder hard against me.
“You’re mine, Coralie. For one week. That was the deal.”
I nodded. It was all I wanted.
Actually, that’s not true. I wanted so much more than one week. Devlin Masters was like the ultimate bag of potato chips. I couldn’t stop. With every taste, I wanted more. He was in my blood and I was hopelessly infected. We had only been apart for twelve hours, but I had been lost without him. Fantasy be damned. Devlin Masters was my new reality.
It didn’t make any sense, but he was absolutely right. For this one week, I was his. I had paid for it and I was going to enjoy every last minute of it. I met every thrust as he rode me hard, until we were both skyrocketing.
Finally he collapsed on top of me, but he didn’t withdraw. In fact, he gathered me close and held me tight, as if trying to freeze time itself. “I want you to make me a promise.”
“Anything,” I murmured, and I totally meant it.
His hand brushed against the velvet dress we hadn’t bothered to remove. “Never wear this for anyone but me.”
Masters for Hire Page 18