“Actually, she’s ex-CIA. No military background. Great with things electrical. Computers, firewalls, security, forensic accounting, and she interacts better with humans than Trace does.”
“Forensic accounting? So she uncovered my money laundering scheme?” I joked, although as soon as I said it, I hoped he knew I was joking. I could actually have used a forensic accountant during my divorce, though. My heart was still racing, and I needed to get out of here before I blew up from both anger and anxiety. Dirk had been thorough.He said she. Interesting.
“So, let me get this straight. You want to see me for the agreed upon ten times. You only blew me off because you needed to be sure you could trust me and to do that, you had to dig into everything I’ve ever done. In my entire life. And our… encounter at the club was just an indiscretion that you never intended to happen. Does that about sum it up?”
“Yes, that about sums it up.” He looked hopeful suddenly. Not like a hardened military lieutenant who couldn't care less what I said next.
“So, you believe that after reading this file, I’m trustworthy?” The anger had slipped away and the panic that had crept in had been supplanted by my more analytical self.
“Yes. I believe I can trust you to keep to the non-disclosure agreement, and help me in my situation with Scarlet.”
“What in this file led you to that conclusion?” I uncrossed my arms and leaned with my forearms on the table again. My green eyes penetrating the darkness behind his deep black eyes.
“Your divorce trial transcripts. The way you answered questions. The way you remained strong against your husband’s team of lawyers. Plus, there was nothing else in your background to prove any of your statements in court wrong.”
Unlike my lying ex-husband.
My shoulders relaxed as I tried to read him. His thoughts. He had determined he could trust me. Could I trust him? That was the big question. I was eager to leave, though. I had to decide.
“Pay me the original rate for the missed meetings at the same rate as the others. Twenty thousand dollars per appointment. And show up next Friday for your scheduled appointment.”
He thought for a moment before replying. “Ten thousand dollars for each of the two missed appointments.”
He jumped right into business mode. I wouldn’t settle for less. Not because I needed the money, but out of principal. Something was off and I couldn’t put my finger on it. It was time to walk away.
“That was my final offer, Mr. Baxter. Good luck in finding a new therapist.” As I stood up, I put the file into my bag. “I’m keeping this, by the way. I’m sure you have electronic copies of everything here.”
I turned to walk away.
“I agree to your terms, Miss Davenport.” I heard the gigantic sigh that followed.
“Good. Call Trace and tell him I need a ride home,” I said, without turning back to face him.
I heard a chuckle behind me that soon got lost in the crowded restaurant noise.
On the elevator down, I sent a text to Jerald.
Hey, I miss you. Can you come to my place? I’ll be there in an hour.
I slipped my phone into my bag, not waiting for an answer. I had so many regrets about Dirk right now, but I had added forty thousand to the bottom line. Nothing but the money felt right about this arrangement.
I had a strong sexual attraction to Dirk. It had been evident at the club, even more so in the Cherry Pit during that private lap dance that turned into much, much more than a dance. It didn’t even seem right to call it Amateur Night anymore after what happened then.
I felt like he had a sexual attraction to me too. But he was married, on the verge of divorce, and too damn handsome for his own good.
As those emotions roiled through me, I also felt this pang in my gut—maybe a little lower—almost an ache that comes from an unfulfilled desire. Dirk was my client now, so I had to put that out of my mind, even if it was the best sex I’d had since my divorce.
Jerald could ease that ache a bit if he wasn’t busy. And he could answer some questions.
When I exited the elevator, I found Trace waiting for me. After I got in the Navigator with all these regrets rushing through me, the one regret that popped into my mind and made me laugh was:
I only got one sip of that mojito.
Chapter9
Sexual Relief
I only hadenough time to undress and slip a kimono robe on when I got to my condo. I poured a glass of Malbec wine and took a sip. The plum flavor rolled over my tongue and immediately calmed me. A lamp in the living room cast a soft glow into the kitchen in the open area of my home.
