Page 66 of Escorted

"Maybe.But maybe you should dig into it a little to make sure. Have you thought abouttalking to him about how you are together?”

Stiffening, Lorisaid a little awkwardly, “No, I haven’t. He’s told me quite clearly that hebreaks off the business arrangement when a client tries to go beyondprofessional boundaries.”

“Oh. I see.”After thinking about this for a moment, Sabrina added, “And you’re not willingto take that risk.”

“What risk?It’s a done deal. He made that more than clear. No more appointments for aclient who tries to break those boundaries. I know this thing can’t lastforever, but I’m having a good time with him, and I don’t want it to end yet.”

Sabrina studiedher—a little suspiciously, she thought. But for once her cousin didn’t sayanything.

Lori let out along breath. Her legs felt weak from the exercise and her face was blazing red.

And she feltstrangely uncomfortable in the wake of this particular conversation.

***

Lori lay next to Ander on thebed of her hotel room and stared up at the ceiling. “Are you going to retire?”she blurted out.

Ander’s necktwitched spasmodically, jerking his head over to look at her. “What?”

She found thecourage to glance over at him. Saw his expression was still, almost frozen. “Iasked if you were going to retire,” she admitted, feeling a surge ofmortification at the random, revealing question.

It was almostseven-thirty on Friday evening. Just last weekend they’d been in Quebec. Just last Monday Lori had talked to Sabrina on the elliptical trainers. And boththings had been on her mind all week.

When Ander hadarrived, they’d talked for a while about casual issues and then had fallen intoa silence that felt almost tired. They hadn’t yet touched, and now Lori hadbeen foolish enough to blurt out a question she never should have asked.

Ander repliedwith a slow, careful sentence. “I assume I’ll retire one day.”

“Yeah. I wouldimagine so. I meant any time soon.”

“Why do youask?”

She gave ahelpless shrug. Sorted through a few possible responses and landed on thetruthful one. “My cousin was talking to one of your old clients. And she saidyou were retiring.”

Ander’s lipsparted slightly, as if he now understood where the question was coming from.But he didn’t immediately answer.

Lori felt herpulse start to pound as she watched the subtle flickers of emotion cross hisface—the flutter of a jaw muscle, the tightening of his mouth, the blink of hiseyelashes. She unconsciously held her breath as she waited.

She wasn’t evensure which answer she wanted to hear. Part of her wanted him to say yes, wantedhim to give up this line of work and find something to do that would reallyfulfill him, that would make him feel like something more valuable than a pieceof meat. Maybe doing this job wasn’t unhealthy for some people, but she was worriedit was unhealthy for Ander, so he would probably be better off if he didn’t doit.

But the selfishpart of her was terrified that he was going to drop her as a client, that she’dnever see him again.

Either way, shewas more invested in this answer than was entirely healthy.

Finally, Andersaid, “I would have told you if I no longer wanted you as a client.”

Lori swallowedhard. Then let out her breath. “Yeah. I assumed you would. But I guess thisformer client seemed pretty sure of your retirement.”

Ander clearedhis throat. His blue-gray eyes were oddly tentative. He opened his mouth tospeak. But then shut it again without shaping a word.

“What is it?”she asked breathlessly, tilting her head toward him instinctively.

He shook hishead and glanced away. “I told you I was cutting back on my clients. And I hadto tell her something.”

“Yeah. That’swhat I told Sabrina. I figured it was just an excuse. I mean, it would be kindof rude for you to retire without telling me, wouldn’t it?” She smiled at him,trying for ironic teasing although she still felt oddly nervous andembarrassed.

He returned hersmile easily and Lori relaxed a little. Everything was as it always was betweenthem. There was no reason for her to get so uptight about what Sabrina had toldher on Monday.

“Oh, I meant totell you,” she said. “I’m going to be out of town for a couple of weeks at thebeginning of next month.”

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