CHAPTER TWELVE
Roe
My next day of work was, thankfully, completely uneventful.
I actually didn’t even see Frank, save for a flash of him as he walked past the door when it was open.
That didn’t mean, though, that I wanted to linger. So I changed and got out of there within five minutes of walking out of the piano lounge.
My mind had been restless and spinning ever since I got home and locked my door.
On the one hand, there were all the many worries about this new job of mine, about Frank, about my personal safety.
On the other, there were the (maybe even more abundant) thoughts of Milo.
I wish I could claim they were more of those very reasonable ones about working with a stranger, needing to figure out what his last name was, and being cautious about accepting any more gift-type items from him.
It was not that.
Nope.
It was mostly my mind flashing back to him grabbing me and pushing me up against a wall, then saying all that stuff about not having to pay women to sleep with him.
He wasn’t wrong.
Sure, many rich, powerful, and handsome men paid for escorts simply to make life easier. There were no messy feelings. It was all as personal as a business transaction.
But I got the feeling Milo was the kind of man who prided himself on his charm, on how he could get a woman into bed and both have a great time. Without any other enticements. Not even dinner. I bet that man could walk into a bar, approach a woman, and leave with her without even buying a round.
God, I swear that man could probably crook a finger at me and I’d come running. Or crawling on my hands and knees.
I needed to get a grip.
I notched the treadmill up, forcing my body from a leisurely jog to a full run. Even if I was pretty sure no amount of exercise would make my body forget about how much it ached for the man.
By the time I climbed off the machine, my legs were wobbling, close to complete failure, and I needed to plant my ass at the juice bar and rehydrate before my muscles would even think about walking me back to my place to shower.
The only thing motivating me was the little text I woke up to that very morning that demanded I get in the ride-share when it showed up at eleven. But was quick to add the location of our meeting so it didn’t sound like I was being kidnapped and taken to a second location to be murdered.
We were meeting at a spa.
Not just any spa.
A super luxury spa.
I was a little excited, even if we were just going to meet in the parking lot.
Because, well, dresses.
If nothing else.
The car pulled up outside the building, and I climbed out, looking around but not seeing Milo anywhere.
Nerves fluttered in my belly as I made my way to the door, feeling like I might step inside and be clocked as a fraud immediately.
It wasn’t always this way.
In another city, in another life, I would walk into spas like I belonged there. I wouldn’t give pricey dresses a second thought.
