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Authors: Lauren Gallagher

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Damaged Goods (26 page)

BOOK: Damaged Goods
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partook in this kind of thing was obviously open-minded enough to view it as

something reasonably acceptable. On one hand, the men of Elite Escorts were

precisely what she demanded in a man. Well-groomed, well-dressed, and at least in

the case of the one I"d been with nearly every night this week, well-hung. On the

other, they
were
escorts. Considering this was a woman who didn"t think a man was

Damaged Goods

127

relationship material unless he owned a yacht, she could see Austin as a hell of a

prize or a complete slimeball.

“Can I be completely honest about something?” I asked.

“Sure, yeah.” She rested her hip against the counter. The humor faded from

her heavily made-up face. “Is everything okay?” Her eyes widened. “Did something

bad happen with one of the guys? Oh my God, hon, I"d feel horrible. Tell me—”

“No, nothing happened.” I paused. “Nothing bad.”

Her brightly painted lips twisted into a smirk. “Haven"t been able to find

anything better? It"s easy to get spoiled with these guys. Believe me.” She winked. “I

know.”

“Something like that.” I blew out a breath. “So, I"m guessing you"re pretty

familiar with Sabian?”

Her eyes lit up. “Am I familiar with him?” She fanned herself. “Oh, am I.

He"s—”

I put a hand up and shook my head. “Okay, okay, I don"t want details.”

“You don"t, but I do.” She grinned. “Do tell.”

“Um, well, I"ve seen him a few times, actually.”

“Can"t blame you there.”

I glared at her.

“Okay, so what"s wrong?” she asked.

“The thing is, I"m…seeing him.” I swallowed. “Like, regularly.”

“My God, you"ve got him on a schedule or something?” She laughed. “No

wonder he hasn"t been available much lately.”

I cringed. This was par for the course dating someone in his line of work, but

I"d be the first to admit it was weird as hell. Avoiding her eyes, I said, “No, I mean

I"m seeing him.” I looked at her, bracing for her reaction.

“Seeing him?” She cocked her head. Then her eyebrows shot up. “You mean,

like,
dating
him?”

I nodded slowly.

She rubbed her forehead, then blinked a few times. “You"re dating him? Him?

Sabian
?”

I took a deep breath. “Yes, I am.”

“But he"s…” She shook her head. “He"s…he"s a…”

“A prostitute?”

“Yes.
That
.” Disgust oozed from that single word, and I knew this conversation

was as much a mistake as coming to the club in the first place tonight.

“I know he is,” I said quietly. “Believe me, I know.”

“And it doesn"t bother you?”

Oh, it does
. I shrugged. “It"s…different.”

128

Lauren Gallagher

“Different?” She snorted. “He"s a
whore
, Jocelyn.”

Folding my arms across my chest, I said, “And?”

“And?” She laughed and rolled her eyes. “You really don"t see the problem

here?”

“I"m not going to lie and say it isn"t weird.” I shrugged. “But he"s a great guy,

Kim.”

“Sure, I guess,” she said with a sneer. “If you discount all of the places he gets

paid to put his dick.”

I tried not to visibly cringe. “Please, Kim, don"t act like you think it"s dirty.

You"ve been with him too.”
Christ, I really am living in a damned twilight zone.

“Yeah, I have,” she said. “He"s worth a roll in the hay for a few hundred bucks,

but relationship material? No way.”

“Why not? Because he isn"t a damned billionaire?”

“No, because he"s a whore.” She huffed and rolled her eyes again. “Look, a guy

dating a hooker? That"s amusing. Amusing, pathetic, and so
obviously
just for sex

and arm candy, it"s—” She cut herself off and gestured sharply. “For heaven"s sake,

you"re a mother. Are you going to introduce this guy to your kids?”

“Not at the moment, no,” I said through gritted teeth. “But Michael knows

about him. And he knows what he does for a living.”

She wrinkled her nose. “And he"s on board with that? It doesn"t bother him at

all what you"d be exposing his children to?”

“Do you
hear
yourself?” I said. “Austin"s not a piece of meat. He doesn"t

advertise what he does, he—”

“Which should give you a clue right there,” she said. “If it"s not such a big deal,

why doesn"t he tell people?”

“Oh, I don"t know.” I rolled my eyes. “Maybe because of the preconceived

notions and assumptions people have about him?”

“Like the fact that he has sex with other women for money?” She laughed

humorlessly. “That"s not a preconceived notion; that"s his job description.”

“That"s all it is,” I said. “There"s more to him than his job, you know.”

“Jocelyn.” She raised a pencil-thin eyebrow. “He has sex. With other women.

For a living. Hell, I"ve been with him. More than once.”

I forced back the growing queasiness. “Look, I know it"s unusual. It"s been

weird as hell for me to adjust to it, but him being an escort doesn"t change what

we"re like together.”

“Except he"s selling what he gives you. Not exactly special, is it?”

“Does it have to be? It"s sex.” I leaned against the counter and folded my arms

across my chest. “That, and having sex for money doesn"t mean he has what
we

have with anyone else.”

Damaged Goods

129

“How do you know he doesn"t?” She cocked her head and raised both eyebrows.

“He"s obviously managed to have what the two of you have with
one
of his clients.

What"s to stop him from having it with another?”

I didn"t know how to answer that. Deep down, as much as I didn"t want to

admit it, I wondered the same thing.

“Think about it,” she went on. “You think you"ve got something so special with

him, but I could get on the phone right now, make an appointment, and go have sex

with him. I could go fuck your man, Jocelyn, and you"re telling me that doesn"t

bother you at all?”

I suppressed a shudder. “Yes. It does. Okay? Trust me, this hasn"t been an

easy thing to get used to. But he"s—”

“Oh, Jesus.” Another roll of the eyes. “He"s. A.
Whore
. You"re dating a

prostitute
. Someone who sells his body to any woman who wants it and doesn"t bat

an eye.”

I set my jaw. “So tell me, why is it okay for you to pay him for sex, but when he

wants to have a relationship with someone, it"s suddenly disgusting?”

“Oh, he can have all the relationships he wants,” she said. “What I can"t figure

out is why
you
have to scrape the bottom of the barrel and date someone like
that
.”

“Do you know anything about him, Kim?” I dug my fingers into my arms,

barely resisting the urge to backhand her across the face. “Besides the fact that he"s

an escort?”

She gave a snort of laughter. “Oh, I know quite a bit about him. Probably some

of the same things you do.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I meant about
him
. As a person.”

“No, I don"t know a damned thing about him, and quite frankly, I don"t care

to.” She sneered. “I don"t need people like that in my life.”

I released a sharp breath. “So that defines him, then? That"s all he is, and all

he"ll ever be.”

“Pretty much.”

Narrowing my eyes, I said, “So if I told you I worked my way through two

years of college as a lap dancer, you"d suddenly redefine me?”

She made a choked sound and her eyes widened. “You…did?”

“Does it change the way you look at me?”

Kim shifted her weight, and the disgusted down-up look she gave me hurt

more than anything she"d said all evening. “Yeah, I"m not going to lie. It does.”

I pursed my lips and rested my hands on the edge of the counter, tapping the

marble slab with my nails. “I was never a lap dancer. I was just making a point.

Even if I had been, you didn"t know until this very moment, so that shouldn"t negate

all the years you have known me.”

130

Lauren Gallagher

“And all I know of your little boy toy is that he"s a whore.” She shrugged so

flippantly I wanted to smack her. “Quite frankly, I don"t want to know anything else

about him, because I don"t want to associate with someone like that.”

“Unless you"re desperate and feel like a switch from your vibrator?”

“He puts himself out there as a piece of meat,” she said. “So don"t get all high

and mighty with me for calling him what he is.”

“And when he"s not working? When he"s just doing what normal people do?”

She shrugged again, and her smirk made my blood boil. “A piece of meat is still

a piece of meat whether it"s on my plate or in the freezer waiting to be cooked.”

“Jesus Christ, Kim,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Quit getting all high and mighty.

It"s not like you have any problem buying the commodity he"s selling.” I narrowed

my eyes. “Tell me, would you get involved with a guy who"d used call girls as often

as you"ve used escorts?”

She stiffened almost imperceptibly. “Depends.”

“On?”

She shifted her weight. “On if he still used them, for one thing.”

“And you"d be pissed as hell if he judged you for using Elite Escorts, wouldn"t

you?” I glared at her. “Or would you be too busy counting all the presents he"s given

you to see if it adds up to enough to buy sex with
you
?”

Kim"s jaw dropped. “What?”

“You think it"s different?” I folded my arms across my chest. “Deciding whether

or not to put out based on his net worth, or the things he gives you? How is that

any—”

“I am
not
a whore,” she snarled.

“Aren"t you?” I cocked my head. “So if a guy came along with not a lot of money

and couldn"t take you to five-star restaurants, you"d still consider him relationship

material? Or if he didn"t give you the jewelry you wanted or fly you to Jamaica,

would you still fuck him?”

She glared at me. “That doesn"t mean he"s paying me for sex.”

“Then what does it mean, Kim? Where"s the line?” I took a breath. “Just

because he doesn"t give you cash doesn"t mean it"s not what you"re doing.”

Her lips twitched with the threat of a snarl. I braced myself, knowing what

kind of screaming tirades this woman could unleash.

She didn"t let fly, though. Instead, she spun on her heel and stormed out of the

bathroom. When the slamming door cut off the thunder of angry stiletto-heeled

footsteps, I exhaled and looked at myself in the mirror.

I didn"t bother going back to the table. It wasn"t at all like me to stick someone

else with my tab, but I didn"t feel too guilty about it this time. I"d just learned a hell

of a lot more about my “friend” than I was ever comfortable knowing, and didn"t feel

the need to learn any more. By now, Jackie and Tina were probably in on it, and I

didn"t need to be outnumbered in this conversation.

Damaged Goods

131

Outside, I hailed a cab, gave the driver my address, and didn"t even glance

back to watch the club fade behind me. It wasn"t the mojito and a half that had my

stomach twisted in on itself. I spent the entire ride home with my fingers pressed

against the bridge of my nose while I took long, deep breaths, willing myself not to

find a reason—such as the pungent cab smell—to get sick.

Somehow I made it, and once I was home, I went into the living room and

dropped onto the couch.

I thought about deleting Kim"s number from my phone. I doubted she"d be

calling, not after I"d confessed to dating a prostitute
and
called her a whore. There

wouldn"t be any outgoing calls in her direction either; life was too short to spend

around people like that. Good riddance, if I was honest with myself. Kim and I had

been friends for a long time, but she"d shown herself to be even shallower than I"d

ever realized. If she could define someone like Austin that way, then I didn"t need

her in my life. There was a time when I"d thought along the same lines, but those

days were gone. I couldn"t go back. No matter how much Kim or anyone else turned

up their noses at him, Austin was human.

I was also human. Only human. I had my limits, and while I didn"t judge

Austin for what he did, could I really be in a relationship with him?

Exhaling hard, I rubbed my forehead.

I couldn"t do this. There was just no way. I was simply not wired to be the

lover, girlfriend, whatever, to someone in Austin"s line of work.

If I miss having sex with him
, I thought bitterly,
I could always go buy an hour

or two.

My own thought made me flinch. But had I really thought I could do this?

Really?

Maybe, deep down, I"d seen this as a challenge. Dating a sex worker was

something another woman couldn"t handle, but Jocelyn fucking Rhodes could do it

without batting an eye. I didn"t back down from any challenge. Ever. So was it the

BOOK: Damaged Goods
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