My Gigolo: The Care and Feeding of a Male Prostitute

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My Gigolo: The Care and Feeding of a Male Prostitute Page 17

by Molly Burkhart


  Silence. He didn’t want to look up. But when the silence dragged on too long to be ignored, he finally did, only to see his not-girlfriend’s sister trying desperately not to laugh.

  His eyebrows drew together. “This is not funny.”

  “I know.”

  “Then why are you laughing?”

  “I’m not.”

  “Only because of what I suspect is a supremely iron will.”

  The laughter escaped, drawing a few surprised and amused glances. He tried not to squirm, but he had no control whatsoever over the blush across his nose and cheeks.

  “Leather pants!”

  “Shut up!”

  Gabe shot them a curious glance, and he wanted to sink into the floor. He put a hand over his face and slumped down in his chair.

  “I can’t help it. It’s just so…you.”

  “Oh, God.”

  “Sis, are you tormenting Jack? You know you’re only supposed to torment me.”

  Crap. He refused to remove his hand from his eyes. What he didn’t see wouldn’t mortify him. He hoped.

  Mike’s guffaws tapered down to gasping chuckles. “Of course not.” Another chuckle. “I was just…inviting him to stay for supper with us.”

  “Miiiiike…”

  “Gaaaabe…”

  He peeked up at Gabe through his fingers. Her narrowed eyes and scowl were at odds with the giant red clown smile and the flower on her cheek.

  “Field Marshal Rommel could have taken tactics lessons from you, and World War II might have turned out differently.” Gabe's eyes narrowed further. “What are you up to?”

  “Hey, now. World War II turned out the way it did because Hitler refused to follow Rommel’s advice. What does that say about you, kiddo?”

  He coughed and removed his hand from his face to better gawk.

  “That I’m glad I’m not a dictator, because if I were, listening to you would only make me a better one.”

  Mike snorted. “History would have to be the judge of that. I’m more interested in the future a couple of hours from now.”

  To his infinite relief, Gabe’s expression eased, and she smiled. “What are you up to? Really?”

  “Nothing. I am innocent as the driven snow.”

  “Pssh. More like the yellow snow after the dog leaves.”

  “Hey!”

  Swallowing his own laughter this time, he stood and put out his hands for quiet. “Ladies, please. There are children present.”

  Mike winked. “Since when has that ever stopped us? Gabe, get back to work. Mush!”

  Rolling her eyes, Gabe complied with a backward smile at him. He felt his own face soften into a silly grin. She wasn’t angry with him anymore, if she ever had been.

  “You love her, don’t you?”

  “Yeah.” He sat back down beside Mike, his gaze again glued to the clown across the room. “I should probably walk away like Phil said, but I just can’t.”

  “Don’t.”

  She put a hand on his arm, and he turned, surprised, to stare at her. Her eyes were so like Gabe’s, all warm chocolate and sincerity.

  “I won’t tell you that she loves you. She’s not free enough with her emotions for me to say any such thing. But she does like you, and the fact that she’s told you even a little about our past and created a public scene on your behalf tells me she likes you a little more than she’s comfortable with. I can’t promise it’ll ever work out, but…Jack, you’ve gotten further with her than anyone since her last boyfriend. I don’t want that to stop. Not yet. Not when you’re so close.”

  He considered that intent, anxious expression for a long moment. He liked Mike. He didn’t think she was setting him up for failure, at least not intentionally. If she said Gabe was hooked even a little, she honestly thought so.

  “Then I will graciously accept your invitation to dinner.” He returned his attention to his clown, who had picked up the birthday girl and wore no hint of that pale, large-eyed solemness that had so worried him. “Provided you stop making fun of my leather pants. I happen to think I look damn good in them.”

  Her renewed laughter brought more amused glances, but he didn’t mind so much.

  Supper went better than Mike had any right to expect. She couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. Her little family—and by some strange miracle, she understood that Jack might well become family someday—looked so happy.

  “So all these little old ladies are lining the street, right? And Gabe’s just rocking in that godawful old porch swing—”

  “It’s not godawful. That’s the best porch swing ever.”

  A snort. “And just what color is it again?”

  “…Green? Ish?”

  “I rest my case. So anyway, I know my talents, you know, so I take off my shirt and—”

  Smiling, she let the jabber flow over her. Darren, the wonderful sport that he was, laughed heartily at Jack’s entertaining tale of Gabe’s Old Biddy Patrol. Jack was almost as animated as he’d been when he called her about getting a real job. And Gabe?

  Every so often, her little sister would stop laughing and just…smile. At Jack. For longer than she surely intended to. The soft, somehow personal expression gave Mike hope that perhaps somehow everything would work out all right.

  “When I came in, she had this humongous sandwich waiting for me with enough meat to feed a poverty stricken nation—”

  “Let me guess.” Darren shot Gabe a smirk. “Alfalfa sprouts?”

  “Exactly! And I’m not kidding about the meat. I’d almost swear she butchered the animals out back and used every bit of flesh she could hack off.”

  “Lovely image, Jack. Thank God the kids are in bed.”

  “You gotta admit, Gabe. That was a lot of meat.”

  Wonder of wonders, her independent, stubborn sister only snorted and socked her sexual partner on the arm, then rested her hand on his thigh. On his thigh. Right there in front of everyone, though the table sort of blocked the actual view.

  And Jack didn’t seem to notice. Of course, the quick glance he shot Gabe was too full of warmth and quiet surprise to bear up that casual image, but he played it off well. And he seemed just as casual when he put his hand over hers.

  Mike smiled. Gabe was giving in. It was only a matter of time.

  “Okay, guys. I think that’s enough fun for the evening. You two have—” She cut herself off, trying not to look as horrified as she felt.

  Luckily, Jack picked up where she left off without so much as a glare. “An escort’s work is never done, folks. I imagine the same goes for paralegals.”

  Gabe rolled her eyes. “At least we don’t have another trial scheduled until September. This last one came a little too close to the wire.”

  Standing away from the table to cover her relief, Mike went to the fridge for the bottle of Coke she always kept on hand for Gabe’s drive home. “Shall I see you two to your cars?”

  To her surprise, Gabe took Jack by the hand and leaned against him with a sugary smile pasted over a positively evil grin. “No, Mom. I think my Honey Butt can walk me safely the whole twenty feet to my car.”

  Darren laughed, his eyebrows shooting up. “Honey Butt? Jack, who is this imposter and what have you done to the real Gabe?”

  Much chuckling and hugging and handshaking saw the guests to the door, and Mike watched her sister walk hand-in-hand with a man in the twilight. Her heart turned over, and a lump lodged in her throat. Had she done the right thing? Could any of this really work?

  “They look good together.”

  Darren put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in close. She rested her head on his chest and smiled.

  “Yeah, they do, don’t they?”

  “Mm.”

  The youngsters stole a kiss, then parted and drove their separate ways, and still she stood in the comfort of her husband’s grasp, watching until even the taillights were out of sight. She might have stood there all night if Darren hadn’t interrupted her thoughts.


  “So tell me again. How did you get a gigolo’s phone number?”

  She rolled her eyes and turned out the light. “Oh, honey, not again…”

  Chapter Ten

  Bond with Your Gigolo

  July

  “You look better.”

  Gabe looked up from her typing and smiled. For once, she didn’t feel the need to prevaricate, though she knew Cheryl would draw unfortunate conclusions.

  “I feel better. Don’t know that I can explain it, though.”

  Her friend pulled the chair over closer to the desk and sat directly opposite, blue eyes concerned despite the greeting. “Isn’t it about time you tell me what’s really going on? Is it about the fuck buddy?”

  Clearing her throat, Gabe winced. “I really, really don’t like that term.”

  “Yeah, but it’s the only term that applies.” Blue eyes narrowed. “Unless, of course, it doesn’t apply anymore.”

  “I don’t really want to talk about it—”

  “But you need to.”

  “Cher—”

  “No. Not this time.” Cheryl sat forward, leaning her arms on the edge of the desk. “I’ve never seen you like you were. It scared me. I couldn’t tell if you really were sick or if you’d just found out that some family member had died. It’s been over a week and you do look better, but I’m worried about you. I’ve kept my mouth shut because I know you don’t like to talk about stuff, but it’s time to tell me what’s going on.”

  Gabe sighed, turned to face her friend, and debated what to tell. What could she say? She couldn’t put it into words, didn’t know if anything had really changed. She liked Jack entirely too much and she finally admitted that, but what did it mean? Did it mean anything?

  And why had seeing him play with her nieces and hearing Ivy call him “Nunka Jack” done such melty, swimmy things to her heart?

  “You’re falling in love with him, aren’t you?”

  “I am not!” She blushed, unable to meet her friend’s eyes. In a voice so soft she wasn’t sure Cher would hear it, she continued. “I think…I already have.”

  “Oh, honey.” Cheryl’s voice radiated sympathy. “How does he feel about you?”

  She swallowed hard. “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.”

  “How could it not matter?”

  “I don’t plan on telling him. It doesn’t change anything.”

  “It changes everything. It has to.”

  Shaking her head, she closed her eyes. “I told you he was complicated. It’s simply not possible for us to have any kind of…of relationship. It wouldn’t be fair to tell him I love him. He couldn’t say it in return.”

  “But why? Who is this guy? There must be some way.”

  Opening her eyes and forcing a smile, she looked her friend full in the face. “There doesn’t have to be a way. This is how I want it. It’s the best of both worlds—love without commitment.”

  Cheryl’s eyes gleamed with sympathy. “But that’s no way to live. You love him. Surely you want to be with him. What’s standing in your way? Is he married? Has he said he doesn’t love you, can’t love you?”

  “No.” She tilted her head to one side, looking away from sympathy she didn’t need or deserve. “I don’t want him to love me. He likes me. I know that much. I’m…safe. It’s not a problem with him, per se. It’s just circumstance.”

  “I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t you want him to love you back? You haven’t loved anyone for years. You have to take the chance on this one. The very fact that you admit it means something, for God’s sake.”

  “There’s no chance to take.” A more realistic smile quirked her lips, and she turned her attention back to her friend. “I want him to be happy, and I think he is right now. I don’t want him to have to choose between what is and what could be.”

  “If he loves you, it won’t be a choice.”

  “Love doesn’t fix everything.” The words came out harder than she intended, and she tried to soften her tone. “Life isn’t a fairy tale. Meeting a handsome prince doesn’t mean you’ll end up a princess.”

  Her friend’s shoulders slumped a bit. “I know that, but I just can’t think of you loving this guy without any hope of return. I don’t want you to end up like I did. How long could you keep it up? How long before you slip and tell him during one of his weekend visits?”

  “I’ll never tell him.”

  “That’s not fair to him.”

  “You don’t know the situation.”

  “Then tell me!” Taking a deep breath, Cheryl sat back. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to talk. I just…I want to help, damn it.”

  “No help is needed. I’m fine. I think I’ve accepted this as the way it has to be, and I’m okay with it. I never wanted a commitment, anyway.”

  She endured being stared at for a long moment. She simply looked back, relieved that she’d finally admitted her feelings aloud. It clarified things, gave her a path to follow. She didn’t feel so directionless.

  Finally, Cheryl sighed. “Why do you always have to do things the hard way?”

  “My sister asks me the same question all the time.”

  “Your sister is wise beyond her years.”

  Gabe snorted. “I will not tell her you said that. She already knows, and the confirmation would only make her insufferable.”

  Her cell phone rang, the familiar tune bringing a genuine smile to her face. She loved the song, no matter how many times Phil dogged it.

  Cheryl rolled her eyes. “Why do you never remember to turn that thing off?”

  “Because the world needs more kung fu fighting. Now, get outta here so I can answer.”

  “Is it him?”

  She plucked the phone out of her purse and grinned at the number. “Yup.”

  “Does he usually call you out of the blue like this?”

  “Only when he wants to come down for the weekend.”

  “Ah. Booty call time.” She stood and brushed a wrinkle out of her skirt. “I still think you should tell him.”

  She waved her friend away and pressed receive. “Hello?”

  “Am I interrupting?”

  Giving Cheryl a pointed glare, she sighed dramatically. “Only my attempts to get rid of a friend.”

  “I’m going.”

  “Come again?”

  Cheryl closed the door behind her after sticking out her tongue, and Gabe leaned back in her office chair with a soft grin.

  “Long story. What’s up?”

  “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for showing up at Mike’s. I didn’t think about it at the time, but it might have seemed encroaching after what happened with Phil and Doug.”

  She blinked. “You don’t have to apologize. I didn’t see it that way at all.”

  “Good.” He sounded honestly relieved. “I wanted to give you a while to stew on it before saying anything. When Mike invited me, I was too intrigued at the possibility of meeting her in the flesh, so to speak, to really give it the proper thought.”

  Her grin widened. “I forget you actually talked to her first. How funny is that?”

  He cleared his throat. “Weird is more like it, but whatever makes you happy.”

  “Are you coming down this weekend?”

  He paused, and she groaned internally. Hadn’t she just insisted to Cheryl that knowing how she felt wouldn’t change anything?

  “I’d love to, Gabe, but I can’t.”

  She wouldn’t ask why. She didn’t need to know. It was no more her business now than it had been before her revelation.

  “Oh.” There was a brilliant response. “No problem. I think Phil wanted to drag me to a movie, anyway.”

  “Good. I was actually thinking of not coming down until my birthday, the weekend after next.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. I kinda have something planned.”

  Her grin returned, overshadowing her disappointment. “For your own birthday? Aren’t I supposed to do the planning?”
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  She winced again, wanting to kick herself. Why should she assume she was the only important person in his life? Maybe his friends—though she didn’t really remember him mentioning any, or any family, for that matter—had something planned for him.

  “Would you?” To her infinite relief, he sounded genuinely pleased rather than annoyed. “Or are you already?”

  “Well…” She hadn’t really thought of it. How had she lost control of this conversation?

  “Never mind. Wouldn’t want to spoil a surprise, if there is one. But would next weekend be okay instead of this weekend?”

  “Absolutely. See you then?”

  “I’ll be there. Thanks, Gabe.”

  “Jack?”

  “Yeah?”

  She couldn’t think of anything to say beyond what trembled on the end of her tongue. Not a good idea to let those words loose.

  “Um…thanks for not laughing at the clown get-up.”

  Whew.

  He chuckled. “I should have long since stopped being surprised by you. I’ve resigned myself to not having a clue what you’ll do next.”

  Oh, she had a whopper of a surprise to drop into his lap. Too bad she couldn’t.

  “Just trying to keep you on your toes.”

  “And you’re succeeding. Look, I gotta go, but I’ll see you soon.”

  “Okay. Bye, Jack.”

  She terminated the call and sat staring down at her phone. Finally, she whispered the words she’d never thought she’d want to say again.

  “Love you.”

  In all those years spent escorting, he’d had no idea how hard it was to keep regular business hours. Paying his bills had become a game of beat-the-clock as he tried to drop off payments during his lunch hour. Even just getting food during that hour was a trick, what with clogged traffic and long lines at take-out counters.

  On the plus side, time fairly flew with at least nine hours of every day filled with computer problems and quick fixes. He’d had a bad time at first because he immediately recognized two of his old clients, but after a few coy smiles to which he didn’t respond, the receptionist simply went back to her telephone and the other woman moved on to the computer problem with which she’d called the help desk. He counted himself lucky. Dealing with another Karen might have cost him the job he’d interviewed so hard to get.

 

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