by S. E. Lund
"You sail?" Her eyes widened in interest.
"I do," I said and held up my watch. "There's a reason I wear this. I did some diving and spent a few summers on a yacht. I'm having a catamaran built and John and I plan to sail to the South Pacific with a couple of college buddies. Go to the Galapagos and see the iguanas. Sail to Australia and then to Cape Town, South Africa and back. We'll see."
"You and John?"
I nodded. "The cat's almost done. We'll sail through the Panama Canal, and then make the crossing. When I come back, I want to start something new. Maybe join the space race."
"Wow," she said and took in a deep breath. "That's amazing. How wonderful to be able to take a year off and just sail around the world. Do anything you want."
"Money is freedom. I know a lot of men who work 12 hour days six days a week and have no life. They have big fancy apartments on Fifth Avenue but spend no time there or with their wives and children. They live at the office. I don't want that. I want a life and I want work to be part of that life. My dad died so young and never got to do what he really wanted, which was to sail around the world."
"That's sad," Alexa said. "My dad got to fly planes all his life. He loves it. He always told me that I should find my passion and pursue that and never settle for less. That I would eventually make a living doing it."
"So, your passion is politics?"
She nodded. "I want to get my PhD and teach somewhere in Europe. Maybe do some work for the UN. Who can say? Definitely in Europe, though."
"Not good old USA?"
"No." Then she laughed. "I was conceived in Alexandria and I think I have wanderlust. I want to go back there, and live outside of the US if I can. Life's too short not to go after what you want."
"I agree." I watched her face as she talked some more about her father and how he lived his dream, flying planes in the military. She was animated and really seemed passionate about what she was doing, envisioning a future teaching at a university somewhere in Europe or doing international relations.
I liked this woman. She wasn't your ordinary run-of-the-mill girl I would meet at a club dancing on Saturday night. She seemed smart and centered, despite doing something as crazy as agreeing to go out with me and masquerading as an escort.
I realized she did it first on a dare, never intending to follow through, but then when I had pleaded and begged, seemingly desperate, she agreed out of sympathy. She was the kind of woman that I would want to become involved with – if I was that kind of man.
But I wasn't.
Not anymore, at least. I had plans and they didn't include a woman – other than as a fuck buddy. Not for the next few years, at least, if ever.
Women, yes. I had my needs as much as any other red-blooded American guy. I liked sex, but with no strings.
Alexa was the type of woman men wanted to have to themselves. I could see that by the way other men at the club watched her when we were dancing and how they glanced her way now. She was beautiful. Voluptuous with a body that just wouldn't stop with all its curves.
"So, you want to be like all the other billionaires and go to Mars?"
I laughed. "Something like that. I want to do things with my money that will live after I'm gone. Chatter was just a way to make money. Mars? That's something real. It's the new frontier. The only thing big enough to satisfy me is a mission to Mars. Everything else will get swallowed up in history."
She rested her chin on a hand. "So, would you go?"
"To Mars?"
She nodded. "It would be a one-way trip, if I remember what I read about it."
"I'd go in a heartbeat."
"Really?" she said, wide eyed. "Leave everything behind? You feel so disconnected to everything here?"
I took a sip of my beer. "Once I do my round-the-world sailing trip, I’d go happily. It would be a once in a lifetime experience."
"It would be dangerous."
I shrugged. "Life is dangerous. Sailing around the world is dangerous. Hell, walking across the street in Manhattan is dangerous. It doesn't matter how you die. It matters how you live. I want to really live. That means taking risks."
"But you won't risk a relationship with someone?" she said, her eyes narrow. "You won't risk marriage?"
I stiffened. "Marriage is a trap," I said. "People get married, have kids and then their lives are over because of responsibility. Or, their partner cheats on them and leaves them for someone else. I want to really live my life and not be held back by a wife and children."
She glanced away and her expression suggested that she didn’t agree and thought I was being immature. I'd gotten that response before when I talked about my plans to leave the corporate world, sail across the oceans, and get involved in the space race. I couldn't expect other people to understand.
"There are already too many people on the planet," I said and sipped my beer. "I don't need to add any more. My line will end with me, I'm afraid."
She frowned. "But your children would have a real chance to do something with their lives. They'd be wealthy enough to go anywhere and do anything they wanted just like you're able to. It seems like a waste of your circumstances not to have children. What about your sister? Should she not have become pregnant?"
"No, that's not what I think. She wants kids more than anything. I'm glad she's going to have a child. But look at what happened to her – she finally gets pregnant but it's with a cheating bastard." I took another sip of my beer, trying to calm down. Just talking about Eric made me angry. "No, it's not for me."
I shrugged, because I knew she wouldn't understand. That's just the way I was. I'd seen enough of bad marriages and cheating partners in my life to want one myself. Maybe her parents were happy, but mine sure as hell weren't.
"You never know what's going on in someone else's mind. I used to like Eric, before I discovered he was a bastard."
"You can't let the bad people in your life make you think there aren't still good people," she said. "What kind of life will you have if you don't have a family? You'll be lonely when you get old if you don't have family."
"I'll have friends. I'll have people who choose to be with me, not those who are forced to be with me out of blood ties."
She glanced away and I could see this was one of those issues that we could not see eye to eye on. I could tell she was upset, and didn’t want her to start having second thoughts about going with me to my family retreat.
"I hope this doesn't put you off from being my plus-one at the beach house in two weeks…"
She glanced back at me. "You really can’t just say to Mrs. Blake that you're not the marrying type and you're not interested in Felicia? Why not be direct? That way, you can go on your own and not have to worry about bringing anyone along."
I shook my head. "I need a pretend girlfriend so that I can go without worrying about being pushed together all the time with Felicia."
"You don't need me," she said, drinking her soda. "I'm sure you have other women you could bring along just for the sake of appearances."
"I said I was bringing you. I concocted this whole story about how we met at Columbia and are now serious."
"Look," she said met my gaze. "I get that you're not the marrying type, especially after what happened. You're not into a relationship. Really, at this point in my life, neither am I, but I'm just not interested in spending time at your beach house with a bunch of strangers, so I'm probably better off just spending the weekend studying."
"I take it that's a firm no?" I said, feeling strangely let down that she was pulling out. "I can't convince you with tales of the great food and surfing, and of the fabulous company?"
She shook her head and smiled, but I could see it was forced. "Nah, let's just chalk this night up to a comedy of errors and leave it at that. And now," she said and glanced at her watch. "I really should get home. I'm meeting the girls for brunch and then I have all these journal articles to read…"
"I'll pay you what I said I would."
"What?" she said and made a face of disgust. "Are you kidding me? I'm not an escort. I'm not impressed by your money or your family. I did this because I thought you were truly in need of a date because you must be such a loser that you had no one who wanted to be with you. I did this to help a stranger – who, I might add – came off as a real jerk. I don't want your money."
"Ow," I said and winced. "Why don’t you tell me what you really think?"
She shrugged and I could see how angry she was.
"Let me take you home," I said, standing up when she did. "That's the least I can do if you don’t want my money."
"I know my way around the trains," she said and boy, what a change of atmosphere from earlier. I must have said something that bothered her.
"I'd feel better if I could at least pay for a cab so I know you got home safely, if you won't let me take you."
"I'm a big girl," she said and waved me off, not meeting my eyes. "I've been taking the trains for the past couple of years. You stay." She glanced around. "There are lots of girls around who would probably love a one-night stand with you. I have a life to live."
Then, she walked away on those heels and out of my life.
As I watched her leave, still appreciating the sway of her nicely rounded ass, and the way her long pale hair fell to her waist, I wished she had stayed. I wanted to be taking her home with me.
She was right – I could probably find someone and take them home tonight. There were a lot of attractive young women at the club, and I'd seen a few turn my way.
But I felt a deep sadness that I couldn't quite place.
No matter. I glanced over at the bar where John was still talking to his sweet thing and buttoned my jacket. When I went over to stand beside him, ordering another beer, he put his arm around my shoulder.
"Hey, there, Luke, meet Lena," John said, raising his eyebrows.
"Lena," I said and smiled. Then I turned to John. "Are you going to stay? I think I'll head home."
"Don’t go," John said and grabbed my arm. "Lena here has a best friend who's in the washroom right now. Stick around. You'll love her."
A young woman walked towards us and when she saw me, her eyes lit up.
"Hi, there," she said when she got to us. She came to my side and gave me the once over.
"Luke, meet Cherise," John said and gestured to the woman, who was attractive enough, with brown hair and eyes and a decent figure. On any other night, I might have found her attractive enough to consider hooking up. But I felt tired because of the whole business with Eric and Alexa and Felicia and forced a smile.
John pointed to me. "Cherise, this is Luke Marshall."
"The Lucas Marshall needs no introduction," Cherise said, smiling at me. "I've been reading about you and your deal to sell Chatter in the Journal."
"Nice to meet you," I said. "Sorry but I have to leave." I turned to John. "Catch you later."
"You're going?" John said and made a face. Cherise made a face as well. I guess the three of them had already put me with Cherise for the evening after Alexa left.
I was so damn sick of other people trying to arrange my love life.
"Yeah, I'm not really up to partying. We'll catch up tomorrow. Call me."
Then I left.
My evening had been a total flop.
Alexa was not Lexxi911 and so I'd been unable to teach Eric a lesson, although I think John and I laid down a big enough clue for him that we knew of his cheating ways. Hopefully, he'd wise up and be loyal to my sister, at least long enough for her to get used to the new parent thing before she sued his sorry ass for divorce.
Alexa was beautiful and smart and I wanted to fuck her brains out, but apparently, she didn’t feel the same. In fact, she thought I was a heartless jerk for not wanting a real relationship.
The night had not gone at all like I planned...
Chapter 9
Alexa
* * *
I left the club and walked down the street to the subway, regretting that I'd even bothered to go out with Luke. What a stupid move – who does that? Who goes out with a perfect stranger they met through an email that wasn't intended for them?
Who pretends to be an escort?
I really had to stop listening to Candace. She always got me in trouble.
Not that I was in any kind of trouble. I'd had fun enough with Luke and John, after getting over the whole business about my identity. It was kind of exciting. But it was a flop, in the end. Luke thought he could use me to teach his brother-in-law a lesson, but I wasn't who he thought I was. We had fun for a while, dancing and talking, but I realized after talking to Dana in the washroom that Luke was still hurting over his failed engagement. He was on the rebound and those men were to be avoided at all costs. He had decided he wasn't the kind of guy who had relationships, or even considered marriage and family in the future.
What kind of guy wants to go to Mars?
Someone who does not want to fall in love and get married.
So, he wasn't the kind of guy I should spend any more than a few moments of time thinking about. No matter how gorgeous he was, no matter how smart and successful, he was not a long-term guy. That's what I wanted and needed.
My parents had the best marriage ever. I wanted one like they had – a partnership where they loved each other and were each other's best friend.
Luke seemed to turn sour on women and love after his bad experiences. Now, he viewed women only as fuck partners. So, it was best that I say goodbye early and get the heck out of the club.
I sat on the subway car, glancing around at the other commuters, and wished I could find someone real, but I'd rather be single than be with just anyone. I wanted someone who was going to love me, support me, want to be with me and only me.
If that meant I had to wait until my degrees were finished and I had a job somewhere and was living somewhere I really wanted to be – like Zurich or Copenhagen or Florence, so be it. I'd rather be single than waste my time with men who were only out for a good fuck and nothing deeper.
I got off at my stop and walked the couple of blocks to the old brownstone in which I lived with Candace. She was in her pajamas and was watching SNL when I arrived home.
"There you are," she said and moved over on the sofa. "How did it go?"
"It was okay, I guess," I said and plopped down beside her. I removed the straps from the high heels and rubbed my feet. "He wasn't a serial killer luring me out to kill me so there's that."
"So tell me everything," she said, impatient for the details.
"I can't tell you," I said and shrugged. "Remember? The NDA?"
"Oh, come on – you can tell me. I'm your bestie. There's no way I'm going to spill."
"I really shouldn't…"
"Come on, Alexandria Marie Dixon. You better tell me. Who was it who moved all the way across the country with you to go to Columbia? Who was it who kept you at my apartment after your insane ex came after you?”
"You."
"Exactly. If you can't trust me with details, how can you trust me with your life?"
I sighed. She was right. "He hired me to rub me in his brother-in-law Eric’s face because Eric cheated with Lexxi911. That's it."
"What?" She moved closer, her eyes wide.
"Yeah. His brother-in-law Eric hired this escort named Lexxi from 9-1-1 Escorts. It’s spelled Lexxi with two x’s. Eric’s married to Luke's very pregnant sister."
"Wow. What a story."
"You have no idea."
"What's he like? Tell me! I already know he's gorgeous and rich."
"His heart was broken by his ex-fiancée and he has a really awful family."
"Oh, that's right," she said, her eyes wide. "I read about him in one of the gossip mags online. They were engaged like, forever, and then they broke it off, apparently because he cheated on her.”
“Other way around.”
“What?” Candace said, her mouth open wide. “She cheated on him?”
I nodded. “I
guess she'd been cheating on him for years with this other guy but the other guy didn’t want to get married. She wanted to get married and Luke was an easy mark, I guess."
"That's horrible," she said and made a face. "I can understand why he might be a bit down on relationships."
"Tell me about it," I said and she knew exactly what I meant. I was down on relationships, too, but unlike Luke, I did want one.
"So, Luke hired me because he wanted to bring Lexxi to the family function as a warning to Eric that if he didn't shape up, Luke would tell his sister."
"Unbelievable… The lifestyles of the rich and famous."
"I know," I said and leaned back, taking in a deep breath, then I filled her in on the rest of the evening's events.
"That sounds so fucked up," she said and crossed her legs. "I thought rich people would be happy and have these fantastic lives. It sounds like they have just as many problems as we poor folk do."
"Maybe more. I bet people are always trying to use them because they're rich. It must be hard to know who likes you for who you really are and those who like you because you have money."
"Yeah, I guess," she said and twirled her hair for a moment. "Still, I'd rather be unhappy and rich than unhappy and poor."
"I don't know if it really helps."
I didn't know. Luke seemed really injured by his fiancée's betrayal. He'd soured on marriage as a result. He'd soured on relationships, too. His money didn’t stop that betrayal. In fact, it was probably because he was so rich that his fiancée stuck with him even though she was really in love with the poor guy.
What a mess…
"He wants me to come to some big family function in Westhampton."
"Really?"
I told her all about Felicia and why Luke wanted me to go to the beach house for the weekend.
"Are you going?"
I shook my head. "No, I don't want to waste my time pretending to be someone I'm not. If I'm going to spend time smiling at strangers at a weekend party, I want it to be because I'm in love with my boyfriend, not because some stranger wants to avoid being matched up with the daughter of an old family friend."