“No, I get it,” he says calmly. “Trust me, you don’t have to explain.”
My heart breaks a little at the bitterness in his tone. Because the way he says it is like it’s certainly not the first time.
“You don’t know me, so you don’t know I take my health pretty seriously, and I don’t fuck strangers.”
His words are harsh and cut deeper than they should. Because he’s right. I don’t know him. He is, in all reality, a stranger.
A man I barely know. A client, nothing more.
So why does that word sting so much?
“Right,” I say defensively. “Well, good thing I’m just doing my job then, stranger.” I force a smile, and I note his eyebrows furrow.
“Right. Your… job,” he says.
There is a tension between us that is thick and irrefutable. Gone is the fun, the whimsy—the warmth.
I hate morning after’s, especially ones with clients who regret sleeping with me, and it’s clear, despite the energy and the attraction between us, Aaron regrets this.
I shouldn’t be mad or upset, really. I shouldn't feel guilty, considering he paid for my company in more ways than one. So I need to focus on that.
“Yes, which is now complete, so…” I clear my throat, my blood moving so slow I think it’s frozen. “Now would be the part where you pay me and we can go our separate ways.”
My heart thuds so loud in my chest I think it’s echoing in the room, but then I realize that’s just in my head. No one can hear my rapid heartbeat or my vicious thoughts but me.
“Three thousand was the agreed upon rate for three hours. Seven to ten pm.” Realistically I could charge him for the overtime, but I run the risk of him saying something to Foxy about what happened, and since that’s against her rules, I don’t want to risk him telling her about it. I could charge him a private rate, like my brother does sometimes for clients, but the thought of charging Aaron for what happened between us just feels… wrong.
It makes me feel like a stripper all over again, and I don’t like it. Because I get the feeling this wasn’t really part of his plan, either.
Neither of us meant for this to happen, clearly. We made the mistake together. So maybe we can just chock it up to drinking and having fun, and just leave it at what it is.
I hold his gaze for a moment, and I think he’s going to protest, maybe even haggle me down on price. It wouldn’t be the first time a client decided after the fact I was too expensive, though usually a mention of reporting them to Foxy and contacting a lawyer solves that problem. I hope I won’t have to go that route with Aaron.
“How does five thousand sound?” he asks calmly, as if he’s asking to pass the salt.
Of course, to him, five thousand is probably nothing. Given his dad is the owner of one of the most popular hotel chains in existence.
Hot, rich, and sexy as hell. God must really fucking hate me.
“Sounds great,” I say as I take my robe off and get into my pants. I pull my shirt on while he pulls out a checkbook and writes me a check. The air between us is stale and bitter and I hate it. I knew this would happen. I can’t believe I let myself believe, even for the fraction of a second, that Aaron Everett actually likedme.It was just a job. I was just providing him a service, like his employees. And I fell for his charms and gave him exactly what he wanted and now I feel like shit. How could I have been so dumb?
Aaron walks over to me and holds the check out. I take it gingerly.
“Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Everett,” I say, my voice softer than it should be given the circumstances. I feel like I can’t speak. Like I can’t breathe.
“Pleasure was all mine, Cinderella,” he says swiftly, sliding his hands in his pockets. “I’ll call you a ride,” he says but I stop him.
“No, it’s fine. I, uh… I have to call my brother, since… I didn’t come home last night and he’s probably worried.”
Shit, I didn’t mean to ramble. Why did I say that?
Aaron’s eyebrows furrow.
“I didn’t know you had a brother.”
I dig my phone out. It’s on five percent and there are a dozen missed calls and texts from Noah.
I smirk at the one sent at one thirty am.
