“Still way too young for me.” I shrug. “But… but that’s the best part. I don’t want to risk feelings or any of that other… bullshit getting in the way. I just want to keep it simple, easy. A mutually beneficial agreement.”
“Howmutually beneficial?” she questions, another dubious look in her eyes.
I lift my chin, folding my arms across my chest again. “Name your price.”
“Well, I need to know what would be involved,” she says with another shrug.
“You’d come with me to tournaments, parties, events,” I list. “I haven’t figured out the specs just yet, but… you’d need to quit this place because we’re talking a full-time gig. Only I won’t put my hands on you like the pretentious motherfuckers around here.” I nod back in the direction of the golf course.
“Quit?” Poppy’s eyes flash with fear. “I-I can’tnothave a job.”
“Youwouldhave a job,” I assure her. “With me.”
“Yeah, but what happens when… when it’s over? When you don’t need me anymore? I can’t be your fake girlfriend forever.” She scoffs.
“Then I’ll make sure you get your job back here… I mean, if you still want it.”
Poppy’s lips twist to the side, and I can tell she’s considering the offer.
“Why don’t you take the night to think about it, and tomorrow we can touch base, and I’ll have a contract drawn up for you so you can make your final decision?” I suggest, and, tucking a hand into my pocket, I pull out the napkin I scrawled on earlier when I was having lunch with Jonesy, after I suffered some sort of momentary lapse in judgement and let him convince me to do this. “Here’s my number.”
Poppy takes the Vista Palms napkin, looking down at it before meeting my eyes again.
“Let me know tomorrow if you’re… interested… and we can meet up.”
“Okay.” Poppy nods, sliding the napkin into the pocket of her leggings.
“Poppy, you good out here, hon?”
I startle, turning to see a man sticking his head out the back door, eyeing me suspiciously before he realizes who I am, his mouth falling open in apparent shock.
“Yeah, I’m okay, Rodrigo!” Poppy smiles, waving her hand at him.
Rodrigofixes his spectacles and, with a knowing smirk, he spins around and heads back inside.
“Friend of yours?” I thumb back in the direction of the door.
She huffs a laugh. “Yeah…. I guess. It’s… not so easy making friends at this place.”
I nod because I know that more than she probably even realizes.
With another small smile, Poppy moves past me and unlocksher car, the door hinge creaking loudly as it opens. And I stand back, watching on until she’s safely inside, the engine struggling to kick over before it finally does with a wild and unstable rattle.
I wave a hand as she pulls out of the parking spot and, with a wave back, she drives off into the darkness, and I’m left standing here wondering what the fuck I just got myself into.
CHAPTER 6
POPPY
My mind has been reeling since I left Vista Palms. So much so that I don’t even know how I made it home in one piece. I can’t remember what roads I took, or how many red lights I stopped at. Hell, I could have run down some poor innocent pedestrian and I’d be none the wiser. When I hop out of my car, I check the front of the vehicle, just to be sure, and I heave a relieved breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding when I find the hood thankfully dent-free.
With my head down, one hand gripping my bag, the other fisting my car keys to use as a weapon if needed, I hurry through the parking lot of the three-story walkup where I live. I’ve never had any issues, but it’s not the safest neighborhood, so I know better than to dawdle.
Taking the stairs two at a time, I make it to the second story and follow the walkway past the three neighboring apartments before reaching my door. And with a quick glance around to make sure I haven’t been followed, I unlock the door and hurry over the threshold, locking and deadbolting myself inside. But, before I can relax, I notice the state of the apartment and my relieved sigh turns into a frustrated groan because you have got to be kidding me.
When I first moved to Florida with Simon, we didn’t have a lot of money. We were both fresh out of college, with not a lot of family support, and he’d been drafted to play with the Hurricanes out of Palm Beach, but double-A doesn’t pay much at all. So, with what little savings we had, we packed up both our cars and drove out here. At first, we stayed in motels until Simon started getting paid and I picked up the server job in the bar, and when we finally had enough for first and last month’s rent, we found this place, a one-bedroom apartment that smells a little funky, has barely any ventilation, and questionable heating. But it was our first official place together, and, at the time, it was perfect. Until it wasn’t.
I’ll never know exactly where things went wrong between me and Simon; maybe it was that we moved half way across the country when we’d never spent more than a few nights a week together in my dorm room, or maybe it was when he stuck his dick in another lady’s vagina when he was out of town, playing in South Carolina. Who knows? Jury’s still out, at least according to Simon…
