June (Calendar Girl #6) (12 page)

Read June (Calendar Girl #6) Online

Authors: Audrey Carlan

Kathleen flitted around the room, oohing and aahing adoringly, clinging to Warren’s arm. Whatever relationship they’d had over the last several years was finally being brought out into the open. Kathleen literally beamed with joy. It seemed to burst out of every single pore.

Where that left me, I didn’t know and really didn’t care. As long as the two of them were happy and moving forward, and I still received my fee, things were golden as far as I was concerned. Though it definitely put a damper on what my position at tomorrow’s charity event and future dinners meant. Did I still pretend to be his arm-candy, friend, and date? Would he take Kathleen along?

All these questions were instantly forgotten when I entered the bathroom. Talk about lush. Promptly, I walked into the room, traced a finger along the white marble vanity and sat on the edge of the square tub. Yes, square tub and it was as large as a full-sized bed. Two people could easily fit in there and get into some serious hanky panky water action. In the mirror across from me, I noticed the frowning girl staring back. There would be no water sports for this gal in the magnificent, once-in-a-lifetime tub. Sighing, I stared out the floor-to-ceiling window…
in the bathroom
. I imagined the windows were glazed in a way one could only see out and not in. Someone with a telephoto lens would have a field day with naked celebrities otherwise.

Standing, I realized how tired I was. Not only bone weary from the travel, either. Tired of not knowing what I was doing. Tired of staying with strangers, even though they were kind and extremely generous, and for the most part, hot as fudge dripping along a cool scoop of vanilla ice cream.

Then like concrete hardening into sidewalk, reality hit me hard. My life wasn’t my own. My kid sister was off living with a man I’d only met once. Once! Even Pops wouldn’t allow that. And Pops. I’d up and left my comatose father in a convalescent home. What the fuck was wrong with me? Granted, this entire year was his fault, and I should be pissed at him, I knew my father. He would never have wanted this for me. Uprooting my life, Maddy’s, and for what? To pay off a goon I’d once fucked and thought I loved? No, he’d allow Blaine to kill him to protect me from living this life. The life of an escort.

I shook my head and trudged into the room that Warren pointed out was mine. Face planting into the clouds of white reminded me of another time I’d done this very thing in a room three thousand miles away, That room was owned by a man I wasn’t convinced could ever truly love me and would leave me. He would hurt me like the others, destroy the last speck of faith I had in the opposite sex for all of eternity. If I was honest, I think I was more afraid that he couldn’t possibly ever compare to the man I’d made him in my deepest, darkest, fantasies, a man that could be everything in one. The devoted, worshipping, loving man I’d always dreamed of and spent my late teens and early twenties looking for only to fail miserably. Now, I didn’t know what we were to each other outside of friends with benefits. I also knew I’d go to great lengths to avoid finding out. At least until I got past this year.

The goal was set and in sight. Blaine was being paid monthly, his blood money finding its way into his bank account, keeping my father, Maddy, and me safe. For now.

 

***

 

If a terrorist group wanted to destroy the United States economy, all they had to do was take out Bryant Park that evening. Every major charity, not just one, was in attendance. They all had booths set up on the gravel perimeter surrounding the main grassy area in the middle. Rows and rows of lights had been extended and strung horizontally, high above the grass. Highboy tables with silver cloths and decorative lanterns sat every ten to fifteen feet covering the massive ground. There were men from every major corporation you could think of. I was pretty sure I spotted Trump and Gates roaming around along with celebrities, and a horde of governmental officials. Famous movie stars glittered here and there and I had to hold my tongue not to fan girl all over the place. It was a veritable feast of the richest of the rich.

As I took in the lights, people, and music wafting through hidden speakers, my body was jolted up into the air. I was spun around mid-air, slammed against a hard body, and squeezed in a vice-like grip. The scent of cologne mixed with a hint of familiar male sweat entered my senses and I smiled.

“Let me go, you big lug!” I kicked and hollered as my body slid along a very firm, muscled chest I knew well but not intimately. His hands cupped my cheeks and the emerald green eyes I adored sparkled.

Coppery hair glinted off the overhead lights, and I ran my hands from his neck to his shoulder. “Miss me, sweetness?” He kissed my forehead the way a brother does a sister he hadn’t seen in a while.

“Mace,” I smiled and pulled him into my arms, holding on tight. He was something familiar in a sea of strangers. I held onto his lengthy, hard form like a leech with no plan to ever let him go.

Mason firmly grabbed each hand and tugged me away. His eyes took in my face then narrowed. “You look tired.” I huffed, blowing out a breath. Leave it to a man I’d spent a month with, one who became one of my best friends in the world, to notice when no one else had.

They don’t know you.
A little voice inside my head taunted.

“Is that another way of telling me I look like shit?” I pouted.

Mason’s eyes did a scan of my body, taking in the tight little gold dress that hugged every curve, and I mean every curve. It hugged so much so that I couldn’t wear anything underneath it. A very non-brotherly look crossed his features. “Wasn’t referring to your dress, sweetness. The body is still a hundred percent bangable.”

I shoved at his chest and made a gagging noise. “Where’s Rachel?” I asked and then was greeted with her model-esque body as she walked up. Mason watched her walk from the bar holding two glasses of champagne. She was wearing a drop-dead gorgeous, white scrap of a dress. She looked downright chic.

“Never far from me, I’ll tell you that right fuckin’ now.” His Boston accent took over as he licked his lips, that sexy smirk of his turning into a cat-like grin.

“You’re a lucky man,” I joked.

He winked and knocked my shoulder. “Don’t I know it?”

When Rachel got a little closer, her entire face brightened. Her blonde hair positively glowed in the lights, and her cheeks pinked prettily. She handed Mace the glasses then pulled me into a hug. “Mia, my God. Whatever are you doing here?”

I leaned back and held her at arm’s length. “Me? What are you two doing here?” I pointed to Rachel then Mason.

He shrugged. “All part of the image. Biggest charity event of the year.” He looped an arm over Rachel’s shoulder. “My publicist thinks attending these things will only solidify what I’ve been building on with my investors.”

Rachel handed me one of the glasses she probably had gotten for Mason but he didn’t seem to mind. He was all smiles looking from me to Rachel. “She’s right.” I took the glass and sipped. “Thank you.”

We caught up for a while. I had no clue where Warren and Kathleen were. He was probably introducing his
real
girlfriend to everyone. Me, I was just here, mostly because we didn’t want Warren to get any flack. If I was here, it wouldn’t look as though I was mad or he was carrying on with several women and piss off the Benoits. I guess it made me look expendable, but in reality, all the gold-diggers were and that was not new to the men I’d previously met, with the exception of sixty-six-year-old Mr. Benoit and his twenty-five-year-old pregnant wife.

Thinking of her must have conjured her up. Christine Benoit was waving at me from across the lawn. “Guys, can we catch up in say an hour? I need to network for my client.”

Rachel hugged me again. “Mia, I didn’t get a chance to thank you. To tell you how much what you did meant for me, for Mace. We…well, we just love you like family, okay?”

We love you like family.

Mason pulled me into his own hug as Rachel used her pinky fingers to dot at the corner of her eyes. “She’s right you know,” he whispered in my ear. “We do love you like family. Any time you want to get away, come visit, there’s always a ticket with your name on it. Okay?” He moved back and bent down low so that it was green eyes to green eyes. I nodded, choked up. “I mean it. You text saying you want to come to Boston, I’ll ensure a ticket is waiting. Got it?”

I smiled wide then kissed his cheek. “Got it, brother.” I winked and stepped back. He put an arm around Rachel’s waist holding her close. That was a beautiful picture. So beautiful I pulled my phone out of my clutch and captured it for all time. One day, when I had a place of my own, I’d print that picture and put it on my own wall or mantle. An image to capture the moment that these people told me I was their family and that I was loved.

Turning around, I waved. “Catch up with you later on, okay?”

Both of them waved, and I turned, walking across the vast lawn to Christine.

As I sidestepped men in tuxes and women in the latest couture fashions, I thought about what they’d said. They loved me, and I was their family. Two people I’d only known for a month claimed me as theirs. As family. Clearly, not the family I’d been born into; that would have been impossible, but by choice.

Friends are the family you choose.

Like Tai, Tony, and Hector had, they all in some way referred to me as their family. Wes and Alec were totally different when it came to their connection to me. With the other guys, that beyond anything solved the weariness and the concern I had over making this year-long journey. The part that was meant to be was the people I was taking into my heart, into my soul. The men and women that would stay with me…that would add to what was now
my family
. They were the reason for this journey as much, if not more than the debt I needed to pay. Before, it had been me, Pops, Maddy, and Ginelle. Aunt Millie, of course, was there somewhat. But these people, they were the ones I now checked in with. Told funny stories to over the phone. Emailed. Thought about when I was in a place or saw something that reminded me of them. The same way a person did with their own flesh and blood, only better because they had
chosen
me.

With a renewed sense of peace, I walked into Christine’s arms. The tiny, pregnant, sex maniac was all smiles and billowy hair. The slip dress she wore accented the small baby bump her hand rested over. I yanked her hand away and turned her to the side.

“Holy smokes. I can see your bump!” I said and she nodded vigorously.

Excitedly, her words came fast. “I know! Isn’t it amazing! It just popped out a couple days ago and all of a sudden you could see the proof of Franny’s and my love. We find out what we’re having in a week!”

Speaking of Francis Benoit, he came up behind his wife and placed his hand over her stomach. “How’s my pumpkin and our little one?” Christine’s eyes lit up like a hundred candles on a birthday cake. It was clear in her body language how much she genuinely loved her husband, hugging him tighter to her, caressing his hand over her bump. It was odd, unconventional, and definitely weird to see someone over forty years older than she was gorging on her neck, but hey, who was I to judge? Okay, maybe I was judging a little bit. In my defense, anyone in their right mind would.

“I was just telling Mia about how we’re going to find out about the baby.” He nodded and kissed her temple. “Also, Mia, everything is in place for the project on our end.”

My eyes went wide. “Already?”

“Yep, Franny and I know how important this cause is. We burned some midnight oil this past week and paid a few workers some overtime, but everything on our end is in place. When the product and people arrive, we’ll plan for setting up the shipping schedule to the UK.” 

I ran my hand through my hair and held it back. “I can’t believe you did that. Does Warren know?”

“Just finished telling him. He’s looking for you by the way. Everything okay between you?” Francis asked, uncharacteristically intrusive for a man like him.

“Perfectly okay. Thank you for asking.” I said a couple more congrats about the baby and the job, and scanned the area looking for Warren. My gaze landed on perfection in a tux instead. Senator Aaron Shipley’s eyes were all over me. For a moment, I appreciated the obvious praise as he pushed evenly through other guests, steadily getting closer. A full tumbler of amber liquid accompanied him. About ten feet away, he lifted the glass to his lips and drained the entire lot. His eyes were glassy and hard, all traces of the sexy man I’d met earlier in the month gone. In his place was the predator that had touched me in my sleep.

Shit.

“Pretty, pretty, Mia. Looks as though your date has chosen another to fill his dance card.” His lips pursed as he came closer and put a hand on my hip, his fingers tightening.

I tried to push back, but he locked an arm around my waist. Making a scene to pry his hands off me wasn’t an option. He was the Senator for California and I was nobody. I was a nameless face that had been attached to his father for the last few weeks.

“Can you let me go?” I pressed against his chest trying to squeeze out of his grip. No dice. He held me tight.

“Come now, Mia. I just received the news that my father has been fucking my nanny for as long as my mother’s been dead. Hell, possibly before. I’m in no mood for your antics.”

I shook my head. “That’s not true. That connection formed over decades. Talk to him, Aaron. Let him tell you how it came about.”

His lips pinched together into white slits. He was walking us through the crowd, his grip bruising against the tender skin of my hip. I looked over my shoulder and caught Rachel’s eye way in the distance. She looked concerned and her hand went to Mason’s shoulder as she stared my way. Unfortunately, he was busy talking to a group of men that might be fans. Talking to the star pitcher of the Boston Red Sox was a big deal even if you were a ridiculously rich man and fan. Not to mention, it might open the doors to prospective new deals for advertising and sponsorship.

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