There’s only one reason Scarlett would give back all the money I spent on her.
“I’m a goddamn idiot,” I breathe.
Lucas leans back in his chair as he studies me. “It would look that way, yes.”
I don’t even have the energy to smack him for the comment. I just turn my attention to him with slack-jawed shock.
“What the fuck am I supposed to do now?” I ask, my tone pleading. “She was planning to give all the money back, and I?—”
Christ. I made her feel like a money-hungry prostitute.
“I need to go see her.” Suddenly, everything feels urgent. I can’t let Scarlett spend another second thinking I don’t see her as the most incredible woman in the world. That Ialwaysfelt that way, and that I just got really fucking scared and stupid for a second.
I go to pull my shirt on, but with that motion I get a whiff of my own booze and misery-fueled stench. When I wince and dropthe shirt, the pause in my panic brings a big dose of reality to the moment.
I collapse onto the couch in defeat. “I have no idea where she lives.”
Lucas rolls his eyes at that. “I told you, I already solved that problem. Go shower before you make the poor girl pass out from your stench.”
My brow furrows. “Yousolvedthat problem? What does that mean?”
He lets out an exasperated sigh and leans back in his chair. “It means I have a private investigator on my payroll, and I asked him to find Scarlett’s address.”
I gape at him. “Youwhat?”
“What, so doing a google search is immoral, but hiring an escort isn’t? Pick your battles, little brother.”
It only takes one reminder of Scarlett’s face as she walked off last night to make my decision.
“Send me the address.”
THIRTY-EIGHT
SCARLETT
When I leave Amara’s apartment the next day, I don’t feel any better—or have any more answers—than I did last night.
But the exhaustion of staying up has my brain moving through mud, therefore dulling my thoughts. So, I can’t bring myself to regret going home with her instead of being alone. The only thing that ends up being annoying is having to put my gala dress back on before I call an Uber.
I probably could’ve just stayed in the lounge clothes Amara lent me to sleep in, but a weird part of me wanted to wear a walk-of-shame outfit. I might not have had sex last night, but if I’m going to feel like an escort, I might as well look like one.
Even though I don’t think I’ll ever be an escort again.
I’d already subconsciously made the decision the night I ran out on my last client, but now I’m sure of it. Even though things are over with Nico, I can’t go back to that life. I need to be more than I was.
I need to decide who I am.
Odd that I needed a man to show me that my mother may have been wrong.
Exhaustion pulls at my bones when my Uber finally pulls up in front of my apartment. It’s late, later than I wanted to get home, and all I want to do is sink into a hot bath and sleep for a week.
But when I find Nico sitting on the steps of my building, that exhaustion disappears. Suddenly, my skin is crackling with electricity.
I have no idea why he’s here, and more importantly, I have no idea how he knows where I live. However I felt about Nico before, at this moment, I’m going to treat him like any other man: with my guard up and my brain on full alert.
He spots me as soon as I climb out of the car and hurriedly stands to his feet. It isn’t until his eyes drag over my body and his face goes pale that I realize what he’s seeing.
He thinks I was with a client last night.
