My Gigolo: The Care and Feeding of a Male Prostitute

by Molly Burkhart

  He coughed a laugh, and she suddenly wished she could see him. She just knew he was blushing, and she so rarely got to see him off his game. He looked adorable when he was uncomfortable.

  “Yeah, something like that.” His chuckle sounded more nervous than choked this time. “Anyway, what time should I try to be there?”

  Setting a time for plans that weren’t set. She felt low.

  “I’m not sure what time the movie starts, but we’ll probably eat at around seven. Can you make that without getting a ticket?”

  “Can we make it eight?”

  Oh, the irony of haggling times for nonexistent plans. “Sure.”

  “Do I need to dress fancy, or are we invading the sports bar?”

  “Sports bar, definitely.” She absolutely did not want to try to dress up to match him. He undoubtedly spiffied up much more nicely than she did. “Nothing fancy.”

  “Great. See you then?”

  “Sounds like a plan.” A new plan. “Bye, Jack.”

  “Go have fun. I’ll see you Friday.”

  She hung up, turned around and thunked the back of her head against the bathroom door.

  “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

  Not only had she not kept him from coming down, but she’d also managed to invite him to dinner with her friends. Could this get any worse? Really dragging her feet now, she made her way back to the main room.

  “We were getting worried.” Doug raised an eyebrow. “What, did you fall in?”

  Phil was at least helpful. “I ordered you the Swiss mushroom burger and pub fries. Hope that’s okay.”

  “It’s great. We’re going to the movies Friday night.”

  Doug tilted his head to one side and blew a stream of smoke. “We?”

  “And to dinner before.”

  Phil’s eyes narrowed. “Who’s we?”

  She shrugged, her eyes on the glass of tea that had appeared during her disastrous phone call. “Me, you two, Karen, Jack, and whoever Phil talks into—”

  “Who’s Jack?” they demanded in unison.

  She forced a grin. “Nice harmony. Have you been practicing?”

  “Gabe. Spill. Now.”

  “Doug. Mind. Own business.”

  He gave her The Look, and she broke.

  “Oh, all right. He’s…a friend of mine. A new friend from Kansas City.”

  Phil raised an eyebrow. “So, the guy you don’t want to talk about’s name is Jack. From Kansas City. And you invited him to dinner and a movie with us because…?”

  She groaned and dropped her forehead to the table. “He invited himself.” Her tone bordered on a pitiful whine, but she didn’t care. “The big jerk backed me into a corner.”

  “Lost a bet?”

  She didn’t have to see Doug to get the full effect of his amusement. “Made fun of his favorite football team.”

  “You deserve what you get.”

  “Phil, you’re not helping.”

  “Wasn’t trying to. At least we get to meet the mystery man now.”

  She sat up, though her shoulders remained slumped. “Okay, guys. Ground rules.” Ignoring their groans, she ticked off the rules with her fingers. “One, no teasing. He’s not my boyfriend, my significant other, my honey bunch or my sweetie pie or any other cutesy nickname. I am so not kidding.”

  Doug smirked and elbowed Phil.

  “Two, no pushing. Just because I’m in the company of a man does not mean I’ve changed my mind about dating or being in a relationship. This is not a license to introduce me to every cousin’s brother’s friend you ever met.”

  Doug put his hands up. “Hey, I only set you up the once.”

  “Don’t look at me.” Phil shrugged. “I told Mom you were serious about not wanting to meet her nephew. It’s not my fault she bumped him into you at the carnival.”

  She glared. “I had diarrhea for a week, Phil. A week.”

  He closed his eyes and shook his head once. “Too much information.”

  “I mean it, guys. No giving me grief over this, okay? Please? I’m begging here.”

  They exchanged a look.

  “Would we do a thing like that?”

  “Shame on you, Gabe.”

  She abandoned all hope.

  The week trucked by too fast. Jack’s new job made nine hours of every day, sometimes more, fly by. Before he knew it, Wednesday had disappeared and Thursday was half gone. He’d never wished for time to slow so much in his life.

  He was nervous about meeting her friends. He had to be especially careful. If he knew Gabe at all, her suspicions already had her wondering why he was so gung-ho to meet her people. If he wanted to do this right, he needed to be at the peak of his form.

  Unfortunately, he was a little rusty. He’d been out of the game just long enough for his confidence to dim. Plus, he hadn’t been on a double date—or would this be a triple date?—in probably a decade. He needed advice.

  No, he needed an accomplice.

  Scrolling through his much-shortened list of phone numbers as he strode through Channel 14’s parking lot, he found the one he wanted and hit send. Luckily, as a new hire, he had to park well in the back, so he had plenty of time to walk and dial. One ring. Two.

  “Come on. It’s almost six. I know you’re home.”

  Three rings. Not good.

  Grumbling, he mentally prepared a speech for voice mail. He wasn’t sure he could sound pitiful and desperate enough in a message, though.

  The fourth ring started, but was interrupted. “Hello?”

  Excellent. “Regina? You sound out of breath.”

  “Treadmill.”

  “Ah.” He grinned, finally spotting his SUV in the distance. “Look, what are you doing tonight besides running in place?”

  “Cute. And nothing.”

  “Look, I need a little help. I talked myself into dinner and a movie with Gabe’s friends, and now I think I’m gonna blow it. Can I talk you into a dry run?”

  A long pause. He stopped beside his gas-burner and jingled his keys.

  “Are you asking me out?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Then what do you need?”

  “Regina—”

  “And call me Reggie. This Regina thing makes me feel like I’m talking to my dad.”

  He grinned despite his fidgeting. “Why do all the important women in my life have masculine nicknames?”

  “Aw, I’m an important woman in your life?”

  “Reggie…”

  “All right, all right.” But she sounded pleased, and she’d finally caught her breath. “So what do you want? I’m not sure I can help with this one.”

  “Job’s going great, by the way. Thanks for talking to Dale.”

  “No problem.”

  He slumped back against his Envoy. “I guess…well, the last time I was on an honest to God double date was before I even moved here. Plus, Gabe’s pretty good at convincing herself that this thing we’re doing isn’t actual dating, but I’m not sure even she can talk herself out of spotting this one.” Closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “Maybe I should just call the whole thing off.”

  “Jack, how long do you plan on dating her without her knowing?”

  He sighed. “I didn’t think it would take this long to, you know…”

  “No, I don’t know.”

  “To convince her that dating isn’t a waste of time.”

  “Are you sure that’s what she really thinks?”

  A frown creased his forehead.

  “I’ve been a woman a long time.” Her smile came through in her tone. “I don’t know any woman who refuses to date just because she thinks it’s a waste of time. There’s something deeper going on there. And besides, what woman could resist Blade Savage?”

  He grunted. “She did a pretty good job of that, too.”

  “Then she’s superhuman.”

  “So, are you saying I need to find out why she doesn’t want a relationship before
committing myself to one that may never happen?”

  “You’ve already done that. I’m saying that you may have chased the right squirrel up the wrong tree.”

  “Isn’t that the other way around?”

  “Not in this case. Are you sure she’s really worth this kind of trouble? I mean, do you honestly like this girl enough to torture yourself like this?”

  He thought of her crooked grin and her ancient lawn mower. The godawfully green porch swing that was just big enough for her to lie back in his arms and kick her feet up on the opposite side. Zombie movies and popcorn at midnight. Football. Dancing in the kitchen. Swinging her around while she whooped over actually making par on a difficult hole. Talking about her aunt. Meeting her friends. Meeting her sister?

  “Yeah. She’s worth it.”

  “You are some kind of romantic.”

  “Can’t work with women as long as I did and not be blind to reality.”

  “Hey!”

  Laughing, he finally unlocked his ride and climbed in. “So, are you in?”

  “What do you need?”

  “Safe small talk. A way to keep her friends from jumping to the right conclusion. And what should I wear? If I dress up, she’ll know I think it’s a real date. But if I don’t dress up and she does, it’ll be just as bad in the opposite way.”

  “I think you need more than a dry run. I think you need professional help.”

  Groaning, he thunked his forehead on the steering wheel. “Tell me about it.”

  “How about I just come over? We’ll go through your closet and try a few conversation scenarios. I’ll bring Chinese.”

  “How did I ever live without you?”

  She laughed. “You didn’t.”

  Fidgeting, Gabe glanced at the clock for the dozenth time. Five more minutes, if he was on time. She should make sure she had enough cash for the theater. She could probably stand to take another look at her hair, the front of which she’d pulled back by twisting sections away from her face, leaving only a few tendrils to curl just so around her face and the back to blow where it would. Wonder of wonders, it had actually worked, but she already felt at least one of the twists loosening, and she should probably check to make sure the bobby pins were holding. She wasn’t the best at getting her hair to comply. Or at working bobby pins.

  She glanced at the clock. Four more minutes. If he was on time.

  This wasn’t a date. Though she’d spent a good hour digging in her closet for just the right outfit, she refused to think it was because she was going on a date. She only wanted to look presentable beside a guy who made T-shirts look like high fashion. That’s all.

  Three more minutes.

  “This is such a bad idea.”

  Wincing as a headache started up behind her eyes, she grunted. Too bad it was too late to call it off. How had he talked her into this?

  Oh, yeah. It was all the Bears’ fault. She hoped their much-vaunted defense choked this year.

  She sat up straight on the couch’s arm as she heard the crunch of wheels on gravel and the quiet hum of a well-tuned engine. Now she could pry herself off of her perch and check her hair. It still looked okay, she guessed. Was it too poofy in the back? How on earth could she convince it not to be so poofy?

  Her doorbell rang. “This is not a date.”

  “Gabe?”

  She opened the door and forced a smile. It didn’t seem to fit her mouth. “Hey, Jack.”

  He whistled low, and she blushed. “I’ve never seen you with your hair up. I like it. Shows off your eyes.” He smiled softly, and she felt her toes curl. “You look beautiful.”

  “No, I don’t.” But she felt better, more confident. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

  Now that she actually looked, she felt her blush heat up. She may have decided on a long cotton skirt and a plain white v-neck tee to hopefully elevate her so-so looks, but her nice casual couldn’t touch his black leather pants and green silk shirt. The leather molded to his thighs much as his wet jeans had, and she suddenly wanted him to turn around so she could gape at his butt. And the shirt…

  This was his idea of casual?

  “I’m going upstairs to change.”

  He chuckled and opened the storm door. “Don’t you dare. You look great. Let’s go before you change your mind.”

  “Jack, I can’t—”

  He cut her off with a kiss, his lips warm and coaxing. She tried to ignore how nice his kisses always tasted, but the battle was lost before it really began. He kissed better than anyone she’d ever met.

  “I missed you. Let’s go.”

  Taking her hand, he picked up her keys for her and locked the door behind them. She followed him to his posh SUV with a bemused grin. He’d missed her. Even after she’d all but insulted him at the mini golf course, he’d missed her.

  How on earth was she supposed to resist something like that?

  The parking lot fairly buzzed with activity. Besides the hundred or so cars crammed into the tiny parking spaces, dozens of people dawdled around, shouting to each other and holding hands. Some danced to the music booming from a radio station van parked in front of one of the several bars on the street.

  “Are all these people here for your sports bar?”

  She shook her head, but made no move to get out. “No, they’re here for Jive Train on the corner. It’s a little more like a dance club, and it’s almost always packed all weekend. I’ve never even been inside.”

  A small grin twitched his lips. “What, you don’t dance outside the kitchen?”

  Either a cough or a small laugh escaped her. “I don’t usually dance at all, even in the kitchen.”

  Still, she sat with her hands in her lap, not reaching for the door handle. He jingled his keys in his hand, uncomfortable for no good reason.

  “Can I ask you something without sounding hateful and unappreciative and insulting?”

  He frowned. “I’m pretty sure you’ve never been any of those things, Gabe.”

  “Oh, yes, I have, but it wasn’t intentional. And I don’t want to sound that way now.”

  Watching her carefully, he nodded. “Okay. Shoot.”

  “Can we not…hold hands…or anything tonight? I don’t mind so much when we’re at home because it doesn’t mean anything there, but…”

  Strangely enough, her request didn’t sting. He knew where it was coming from. “But out in public, your friends will see it as something it’s not.”

  She let out a breath he hadn’t realized she was holding and looked up from her hands. “Exactly. Is that okay?”

  “I hereby solemnly swear not to hug, kiss, or sexually maul you in public, including but not limited to not holding your hand, putting my arm around your shoulders, or squeezing your ass. Deal?”

  He almost got a grin. “Deal. Ready?”

  “Lead the way.”

  She walked a little in front of him, her curls blowing in the slight breeze, her skirt outlining the curve of her leg. He really had missed her. Sure, his job kept him occupied, but he wanted to be with her, and not just on the occasional weekend. He wanted a relationship with her, God help him. In fact, as he watched her swipe a dangling curl out of her face and open the pub’s door for him, he realized something that probably should have been obvious from the start and stopped stock-still.

  He was in so much trouble.

  Her slight smile faltered. “What? Is my hair messed up?”

  A lump in his throat made his voice hoarse to his own ears. “No, it looks great.”

  She tilted her head to one side, and his heart somersaulted. “Are you okay? We can still call this off, you know.”

  He loved her. He loved her reluctance. He loved her willful hair and her melted-chocolate eyes and her crooked grin and her cotton skirt. He loved that she was a terrible dancer and a worse mini golfer. He loved that she squeaked when she was surprised and baked to an almost psychotically eclectic mix of music.

  “No, I’m fine. I just remembered that
I forgot to…turn on my answering machine.”

  Her lips quirked. “Expecting an important call?”

  “You know me. I live by my telephone.”

  She narrowed her eyes, then shrugged. “All right. Time to face the firing squad.”

  He followed her blindly, still struck by his revelation, until she stopped at a table in the corner. Forcibly shaking off his stupor, he remembered that he was supposed to be acting a part and that he’d better get started before anyone suspected something was wrong.

  “Jack, I’d like you to meet Phil, Doug and Karen.”

  He nodded to each person. The black guy, Phil, studied him with narrow-eyed interest, likely sizing him up. The white guy—Mr. California with his blond hair and tan—and his girlfriend watched him with varying degrees of interest. The guy looked away first, hailing a passing waiter. The woman, Karen, eyed him a bit longer, something he didn’t trust marring her pretty face and baby blues. He’d seen her kind many times, and he made a mental note to not be too chummy with her, lest she get the wrong idea that he was open to advances.

  “Sit down, guys. You’re making us nervous.” Doug smiled broadly and genuinely. Jack liked him immediately. “Tell us about you, Jack. It takes superhuman strength to break through Gabe’s cloak of obliviousness.”

  He hoped his chuckle sounded realistic as he pulled out a chair for Gabe, then sat down himself. “You guys have the wrong idea, here. Gabe’s a friend through her sister. Mike shares my interest in…computer animation.”

  No one seemed to notice the hesitation.

  Phil sat forward, leaning his arms on the table. “How’d you meet?”

  A glance at Gabe proved she would be little help. Her face was white, and she bit at her lower lip. Normally, the gesture would turn him on. Now it made him even more aware of her discomfort. He’d better not screw this up.

  “Bumped into each other at the grocery store. Mike had talked about her little sister, of course, and I was curious, so it was fortuitous on both sides.”

  Doug put his arm around his girlfriend. “So, how long have you been dating?”

  Gabe stiffened, but he merely shrugged. “We aren’t.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Seriously. I come down to raid Gabe’s fridge every now and then. I don’t cook, and she is amazing with an oven. Plus, she has a music collection you wouldn’t believe.”