Any Way You Want It

by Maureen Smith

  “A new one. Christine had gone to the restroom, so he asked me whether I could help him. Oh, my God, why did he do that? I opened my mouth to tell him that I didn’t work there, and the next thing I knew, I was setting up a date with him.”

  Zandra groaned. “Damn it, Sky.”

  “I know, I know. I’m so sorry, Zandra, but I just couldn’t help myself. He’s sooo damn hot. And, honestly, I didn’t think he’d believe that I was one of your escorts.”

  Zandra frowned. “Why not?”

  “Well,” Skylar said wistfully, “I know I’m not tall and leggy like your other girls—”

  “Oh, stop it. You know you’re gorgeous. You’ve got the face of Jessica Biel and the body of Salma Hayek. Besides, not all of my escorts are tall and leggy. Claudia is petite and a voluptuous size twelve, and clients love her. Anyway, what am I gonna do with you?”

  Skylar gave a lascivious chuckle. “I don’t know, but I can tell you what I want that hottie to do with me. Over and over and over again.”

  “Skylar!”

  “What?”

  “You can’t go out with him.”

  “Why not?”

  “Why not?” Zandra echoed incredulously. “Because he obviously went to the office looking to book an escort, and unless I missed something, you’re not one of my escorts.”

  “Oh, please let me have him, Zandra,” Skylar begged. “Please, oh, please, oh, pleeeaaase.”

  Zandra couldn’t help laughing. “Listen to you. You sound like a child begging for a new toy.”

  “If you’d seen this particular toy,” Skylar purred, “you’d be begging, too.”

  Zandra frowned. “Sky—”

  “Please, Zandra? Pretty please?”

  She heaved an exasperated breath, shaking her head at an anatomical diagram of a vagina. Damn Skylar and her raging libido.

  “You can’t sleep with him, Sky,” she warned sternly. “You’re only supposed to provide companionship, not sex.”

  “Aw, man,” her friend pouted.

  “I mean it. If you want to pose as one of my girls, you have to play by my rules.”

  She heard grumbling on the other end.

  “By the way,” Zandra demanded, “where was Christine when all this deception was taking place?”

  “I told you, she went to the bathroom. She was in there for a long time—must have had the runs or something. Anyway, by the time she came out, Jonah was already gone.”

  “That’s the client’s name? Jonah?”

  “Yes. Jonah Spanier.” Skylar gave a dreamy sigh.

  “I’ll need to run his background check just to make this transaction legit.”

  “Oh, he left all his information. I figured I should, ah, keep it from Christine until you gave the all-clear. Oh, and I told him my name was Brigitte, just in case he calls to follow up.”

  “Brigitte?”

  “Yeah. Like Brigitte Bardot. You know that’s always been my dream name.”

  Zandra frowned, shaking her head. “I can’t believe I’m even considering this,” she muttered.

  “Oh, come on, Zandra. I can impersonate one of your escorts. I’m well educated, I speak French and I’m up on world events. I’m demure and ladylike—”

  Zandra snorted.

  “—and you just said I’m gorgeous.”

  “You are,” Zandra grumbled. “Crazy as hell, but yeah, gorgeous.”

  “See? I’m qualified for the job. So what do you say?”

  Zandra wavered.

  “Please, Zandra? I’ll never ask another favor again. Well, not for a while at least.”

  “Fine,” Zandra relented. “You can go out with him. But just remember my rule, Sky. No sex—no exceptions. Got that?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Skylar said in a singsong voice.

  “Let me know how everything goes.”

  “Oh, you know I will,” Skylar purred.

  Zandra ended the call and shook her head in exasperated disbelief.

  What the hell have I just gotten myself into?

  Hearing voices outside the room, she returned her phone to her handbag on the chair and climbed back onto the table just as the door opened and her gynecologist walked back in.

  “Sorry about that, Zandra. One of my patients just went into labor.”

  “Oh, wow,” Zandra remarked. “That’s wonderful. Do you need to leave?”

  “Not right away. Let me finish your exam first.”

  Dr. Gill was an attractive fortysomething woman with a short natural and smooth brown skin. Zandra had always liked and respected her. She was a wife, a mother of three, and very active in her church and community. Though she knew all about Zandra’s escort agency, she’d never expressed disapproval or passed judgment on Zandra. That was rare.

  As one of Dr. Gill’s nurses slipped quietly into the room and closed the door, Zandra lay back on the table and tucked her feet into the stirrups.

  Dr. Gill spoke to her as she gently eased the plastic speculum inside her, her voice warm and soothing. “So how’s everything going? Are you enjoying your summer?”

  “Very much,” Zandra murmured, staring up at the ceiling.

  “That’s good. Got any exciting travel plans?”

  “Well, I recently returned from St. Lucia—”

  “Oooh, you lucky girl. I’ve never been there, but I’ve heard it’s beautiful.”

  “It is. Really breathtaking.” The island would always hold a special place in Zandra’s heart because of Remy. “You have to visit sometime.”

  “I know. That’s what my husband’s been telling me.” Dr. Gill sighed. “I just need to clear my schedule and do it, right?”

  Zandra grinned. “Absolutely. You won’t regret it.”

  “I’m sure I won’t.” Dr. Gill used her spatula and brush to gently scrape cells from Zandra’s cervix. “Got any other trips planned this summer?”

  “Actually,” Zandra answered, “I’m leaving for London tomorrow.”

  “Oh, how nice. I love London.”

  Zandra smiled softly. “Me, too. It’s one of my favorite places in the world.” And being able to share it with Remy would make it more special than ever.

  When Dr. Gill finished the exam, she passed the Pap smear sample to her nurse and disposed of her gloves, then rose from the rolling stool and walked to the sink to wash her hands.

  As Zandra sat up on the table, Dr. Gill asked her, “Are you still happy with the Pill?”

  Zandra hesitated for a moment, surprising herself.

  “Zandra?” Dr. Gill prompted.

  She looked at her. “How long does it take to get birth control pills out of your system?”

  “Well, once you stop taking the Pill, the hormones are out of your body quickly, usually within a couple of days. That means your body will start to produce follicles again, which will eventually lead you to ovulate. But every woman is different. Some may take a few weeks to ovulate. Others may take several months. It just depends.”

  Zandra nodded slowly, absorbing this information with a carefully neutral expression.

  Dr. Gill eyed her speculatively. “Are you thinking about coming off the Pill, Zandra?”

  She bit her lip, then shook her head. “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She wasn’t, but she nodded anyway.

  “Well, you just let me know whenever you’re ready to stop taking the Pill, or if you’d like to explore other options for birth control.” Dr. Gill paused, eyes glinting. “Or if you’re ready to start planning a family.”

  Zandra blushed. “I’m not. But...thanks.”

  Dr. Gill gave her a warm smile. “See you next time.”

  After the doctor and her nurse left, Zandra got dressed, then walked out of the examination room. She was heading down the bright corridor toward the reception area when she passed a corkboard covered with snapshots of patients’ newborn babies.

  She’d walked by that corkboard countless times before without giving it more than a passin
g glance. But today for some reason, she felt compelled to stop.

  As she stood there staring at the collection of photos, a deep ache of longing spread through her.

  She put a hand to her stomach.

  For the first time ever, she allowed herself to entertain the thought of bringing a child into the world.

  Not just any man’s child.

  Remy’s.

  * * *

  Remy sat across from Sam Keegan in a leather booth located at the back of a coffee shop on West Jackson Boulevard. Keegan had called him that morning and asked to meet in person. In case the mayor was having him followed, he wanted to look like he was following orders, doing what he’d been told.

  Remy waited until the waitress had poured their coffee, winked and sashayed away before he spoke. “It’s done.”

  Keegan met his gaze across the table. “You’ve started investigating the escorts?”

  Remy nodded, his gut churning with guilt.

  “You’re doing the right thing.”

  A grim smile twisted Remy’s mouth. “Maybe if I keep telling myself that, I’ll start to believe it.”

  Keegan was silent, lifting his coffee cup to his mouth and sipping the black brew.

  “Does the mayor know that Zandra is an old friend of mine?”

  “No,” Keegan said flatly. “And I didn’t volunteer that detail. If he finds out on his own, I’ll just explain that you’re the best person for the job because she’d never suspect your involvement.”

  “Jesus.” Remy closed his eyes, rubbed a hand over his face and swallowed hard as guilt and self-loathing burned like bile in his throat.

  “Kennedy’s holding a press conference tomorrow to announce his run for mayor,” Keegan informed him. “It might be a difficult day for Zandra.”

  “She won’t be here,” Remy muttered.

  “Oh? Where’s she going?”

  “I’m taking her to London. We leave early tomorrow.”

  “That’s probably a good idea.” Keegan sipped more coffee. “Her father’s a strong candidate, like I told you before. The knives will be out for him soon.”

  Remy smiled darkly. “Should one of those knives happen to get rammed into his aorta, I’d be ever so grateful.”

  Keegan chuckled into his cup. “Guess you’re still not gonna tell me why you hate the old man so much, huh?”

  Remy didn’t respond.

  When Keegan first came to him, he’d been tempted to tell him about Landis Kennedy’s violent past. The revelation would torpedo the man’s campaign before it even began. But giving Keegan that kind of ammunition would also thrust Zandra into the harsh glare of the media spotlight, forcing her to relive the nightmare of her childhood. He couldn’t do that to her. He wouldn’t.

  Gripping his coffee cup, he brought it to his mouth and drank, grimacing as the strong brew hit his queasy stomach.

  “By the way,” Keegan said casually, “I recently spoke to someone over at BCNR.”

  Remy showed no reaction to the mention of the Board for Correction of Naval Records.

  “There’s been some talk of reinstating you.”

  Remy went still, but didn’t lift his gaze from his coffee.

  Three years ago, he would have jumped at the chance to be reinstated into the navy. But no longer. He couldn’t go back. Too much had happened. Too much damage had been done.

  Keegan watched him. “You have nothing to say?”

  “No.” Remy drank more coffee.

  Keegan sighed heavily. “Well, that brings me to the other reason I wanted to see you today.” He paused, waiting for Remy to set down his cup and meet his somber gaze. “Lieutenant Shaughnessy was found dead last night.”

  The news jolted Remy like a live wire pressed to wet skin. Stunned, he fell back against the booth and stared at Keegan. “Where?”

  “In his apartment.” Keegan grimaced. “Self-inflicted gunshot wound.”

  Remy tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry. Turning his head, he stared blindly out the window as dark images flashed through his mind like explosives detonating on a battlefield.

  “He was a ticking time bomb,” he whispered hoarsely. “He needed help.”

  “I know,” Keegan said grimly. “You tried to warn them.”

  Remy hardened his jaw, turning from the window.

  Keegan’s shrewd eyes probed his, seeing through Remy’s battle-scarred armor to the anger and grief that had haunted him for the past three years.

  Keegan said quietly, “Everyone who matters knows you did the right thing that night in Fallujah.”

  Remy’s mouth twisted bitterly. “For all the good it did me.”

  Keegan, to his credit, offered no empty platitudes.

  A heavy silence lapsed between them. A silence weighted with memories and raw emotion.

  Remy drank the rest of his coffee and set down the empty cup, then retrieved two fives from his wallet and slapped them down on the table.

  “Thanks for the coffee.”

  Keegan smiled wryly. “Not if you’re the one paying.” He watched as Remy slid out of the booth and stood. “Lieutenant Brand.”

  Remy met the older man’s concerned gaze.

  “Have faith,” Keegan said quietly. “Everything will work out in the end.”

  Remy’s response was a brief, humorless smile.

  As he left the coffee shop and slid on his sunglasses, he wished he could share the commander’s optimism.

  But he knew better.

  And Keegan should have, too.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “So who are you leaving in charge of the agency while you and Remy are off on your love trip?”

  Zandra sent an amused glance at Morgan Morrison, who was lounging in the visitor chair in her office. Morgan’s feet were propped up on the corner of the desk, showing off the red bottoms of her Louboutins. The razor-edge bangs of her sleek bob accentuated her doe eyes, and she wore a retro-print romper that was so haute couture, she could have been strutting down a runway in Milan.

  “I’m leaving Christine in charge.” Zandra paused. “And it’s not a love trip.”

  Morgan gave her a knowing look. “Riiight.”

  Zandra deliberately ignored her, returning her attention to her computer screen. “I can’t get over what a fabulous job you did with my website,” she raved, admiring the ultramodern design that beautifully incorporated shades of pink, brown, silver and black. “It’s sleek and stylish and stunningly sexy.”

  Morgan grinned, flashing exquisite dimples. “I’m glad you’re pleased.”

  “Are you kidding?” Zandra exclaimed, clicking through the pages once again. “I absolutely love the new look.”

  “There was nothing wrong with the previous design—technically. But I just thought you needed something fresher. Fun and edgy, but still sophisticated.”

  Zandra nodded. “You definitely achieved that. And I love the teaser photos of the girls with just their eyes showing. Gives them even more of an aura of mystique.”

  “Exactly. It’ll have users salivating by the time they click on the image to see the full photo and bio.”

  Zandra grinned. “Brilliant, woman.”

  Morgan preened at the accolades, folding her hands behind her head and crossing her legs on the desk.

  Zandra chuckled. “You really ought to consider starting your own business, Morgan. You could offer graphic design services as part of your public relations consultancy.”

  “I know.” Morgan sighed. “It’s very tempting, considering how miserable I am at Adventura.”

  Morgan worked as a public relations specialist for a nonprofit association, a job she’d loathed for as long as Zandra had known her.

  “Life’s too short to be miserable, Morg. Especially at twenty-six.”

  Morgan made a face. “You sound like Lena. She keeps telling me the same thing.”

  “She’s right. You should listen to her. You’re way too talented to be slaving away for an employer that doesn�
��t appreciate you. And after this amazing web redesign you’ve done for me, I’d be more than happy to send business your way.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course.”

  Morgan pursed her lips, looking thoughtful.

  Zandra grinned knowingly. “I see those wheels turning.”

  Morgan smiled. “The idea definitely has some appeal. I’d just have to do a lot of research.”

  “Of course. And I can—” Zandra broke off, her gaze skipping past Morgan to the open doorway. She was surprised to see River Brand standing there, his hands tucked casually into the pockets of his charcoal suit pants.

  She smiled at him. “Hey, there.”

  “Hey,” he said. “Hope I’m not interrupting.”

  At the sound of his deep voice, Morgan whipped her head around so fast her bobbed hair slapped her face.

  She and River stared at each other for a suspended moment, then Morgan muttered, “Oh. It’s you.”

  River frowned as she turned away, dismissing him. Only Zandra saw the deep flush spreading over Morgan’s cheeks.

  Amused and intrigued, she waved River inside the office, smiling warmly as he sauntered toward her desk. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

  “I’m in need of your services,” he drawled.

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah.” He stopped at the windows, sweeping a glance over the bright skyline before turning back to Zandra. “I want to book one of your escorts.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “What is it with you and your brother’s sudden interest in my girls?”

  River chuckled. “C’mon, Za. Don’t give me a hard time. I have to attend an important function, and I need to impress a prospective client. Your escorts are good in those situations. They’ve got class and sophistication.”

  Morgan snorted. “Unlike your bimbos.”

  River scowled at her. “Who asked you?”

  “Oh, please. You walked right into that one. Didn’t he, Zandra?”

  “Oh, no,” Zandra said with a laugh. “I’m not getting in the middle of this—whatever this is.”

  As the two combatants glared at each other, Zandra couldn’t resist adding curiously, “I just have to ask though. What exactly happened between you two in St. Lucia?”

  “Nothing,” they both snapped.