Page 29 of Resist

It’s all for her.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Vaughn

My smile is permanent and my spirits are high from my afternoon with Lucy as I flit around the house picking things up. Always on the ready for social services to stop by unannounced, I try to keep the place clean and orderly, reflecting a home that would be suitable for Lucy, all the while making sure any hint of Wicked Ways is nonexistent.

Grabbing my dry cleaning from the kitchen counter where I laid it when I walked in, I separate out my day-job uniforms from my “Vee” clothes and begin putting them away when the distinct ring of my Wicked Ways cell phone echoes through the house.

“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter before picking it up and sighing when I see the number. The same number that has called me numerous times in the past forty-eight hours that I’ve yet to have the courage to answer.

But I need to. I’m the boss he’s calling, not the escort who insulted him and ran out without giving him what he paid for.

Now or never, Vaughn.

With a straightening of my shoulders, I sink down onto the edge of my bed and then stand back up, figuring this is a job I need to do while on my feet.

Here goes nothing.

“Mr. Lockhart. What a pleasure to hear from you,” I greet him, my voice smooth as silk and brimming with professionalism while my insides are suddenly a bundle of nerves.

“Is it? I’d think by the way you’re avoiding my phone calls that you’re busy figuring out what to say to me or how to explain why I was left high and dry and completely unsatisfied.”

“Not avoiding you, no,” I say as the grate of his voice rumbling through the phone gives my body a visceral reaction. My pause is unexpected. I’ve tried to figure out how to play this a million times and never decided how. Now that we’re talking, I decide honesty is the best way. Well, almost honest. “Actually, I’m rather embarrassed about what happened and have been busy trying to figure out how to make it up to you. We are a professional company, and what Saxony did—or rather, what she told me happened, as I’m fairly certain there is more to the story from your end—is unacceptable to me.”

When in doubt, stroke a man’s ego, and if you stroke it long enough, he’ll come to the conclusion that you’re wrong and he’s right even when you never utter the words.

“As it should be.”

“Would you mind giving me your version of events, Mr. Lockhart, for her employee file?” I ask.

“No.”

“No?”

I picture him sitting behind some big desk somewhere with the night skyline stretched out in front of him while he runs his hand over his jaw and contemplates my words.

“No,” he answers resolutely, leaving no room for question.

“May I ask why not?” Curiosity gets the better of me.

“Because it’s my understanding that I’ve paid for companionship and that nothing else is included in the price.” There’s a hint of amusement in his voice as he reiterates the point I drive home to all my clients. “Whatever happened was part of that nothing else.”

I walk over to the window and look at the swing set in the backyard and wonder how long it’s going to sit here before Lucy will be able to come home to use it.

“Is that so?” I ask, wondering why he’s giving me a break when he could deservedly be a real asshole.

“That’s so.”

“While I appreciate your understanding of the situation, I still feel the need to refund you your full payment as well as offer you a night with another one of my girls on the house as an apology for the mix-up.”

“Mix-up?” He chuckles, and I swear I can all but feel it tickling over my skin. “Is that what we’re going to call what happened?”

“What would you like to call it, then?”

“A refund won’t be necessary,” he says, disregarding my question.

“I insist.”