Page 91 of Their Courtesan
“I never saidthat.”
“You never said it, but I can sense it in you. I’m intuitive. It’s a part of my job. Or did you forget that all of this is mycareer?”
“Trust me,” he muttered, throwing some of her anger right back at her. “I never forgot for one moment what it is that you do for a living and what my role in your life is.”
“Good! Don’t you forget!” Judith fled to his bedroom, where her purse and overnight bag waited. Fuck waiting around for him to drive her back up to the Château. She’d take Uber. “I’m a sex worker, Seth!” She called that out like he wasn’t standing in the doorway.You’re fucking gorgeous and I hate you.Suddenly he looked so much younger than he actually was. A scared baby-face. Great.Great that I can’t seem to resist this bullshit. Fuck me!Judith pushed passed him.Even though I’d rather run into him.With her desperate body? With a two-ton car? Who knew! “That’s not going to change anytime soon! I’ve worked too hard to give up what I’ve built for aclientI met two fucking months ago!”
“Two and a half.”
“Oh, fuckoff.”
Seth remained standing in his bedroom doorway. The covers were still undone behind him, the sheets dirty from all the sex they had last night.The pervert fucked my ass.Far from the first guy to do it, buthim?
“Judith.”
She stopped halfway to the door, bags in hand.No, don’t talk like that.Strong, but afraid. A man firm enough to stand by her, but as human and vulnerable as anyone else.
“You love him, don’t you? You love the other man.”
Tears dripped down her cheeks. She refused to wipe them away. “You’re an asshole, Seth. You’re everything I ever heard about doctors and artists.Asshole.”
“You’re a…”
She whipped around, ready to hear whatever slurs passed his chauvinistic lips. “I’m a what, huh?” Judith marched to him, determined to slap him if fucking necessary.Not the first client I’ve slapped, either. Out of anger, that is.Usually she charged extra for a slap. “A whore? A prostitute? A hooker? A damaged girl with daddy issues? Go on! I’ve heard them all!”
His leveled glare shook her core. “A woman I clearly don’t deserve.”
What was that manipulative bullshit? Judith raised her hand, the tears now pouring down her face. Her hand faltered.I’m not going to do it. I’m not going to do it!Instead, she made a fist and held it to her chest. “Fuck you, Seth.” Against her better judgment, she lunged forward and kissed him.
Even with her salty tears falling between them, he kissed her back, hard, hands in her hair and pulling on her sundress. She wasn’t much better. Buttons weaved in and out of his shirt. Undershirt came up. Zipper was down and the two of them fell to the floor in a frenzy that screamed at Judith to put a stop to itnow.
She didn’t. For fifteen years she had been playing it safe. So much distance between herself and others. A cool, collected exterior and nothing but calculations in her brain. Maybe, for once, she wanted to throw all that in the wind and fuck one of the few men she would ever call a boyfriend.
Judith was in a daze afterward. She resumed her plan to go back to the Château alone, having already activated the Uber app on her phone. “No, no,” she kept saying whenever Seth insisted on taking her. “I need to think. Goodbye.”
She stumbled out of his townhouse and into the lavender Prius pulling up to the stoop. A young woman with thick-rimmed glasses and a flannel shirt waved and smiled.Thank God. A woman.Judith was worried the Château would be too far away, but after checking in with her boyfriend, the girl agreed to drive Judith all the way up there. In return, Judith left her a huge tip and a partial promise that someone else would want driven back into town.
Good thing the woman didn’t want to chat on the two-hour drive into the mountains, because Judith was busy cleaning herself up and trying to think about anything but Seth.I can’t believe he made me cry. Nobody makes me cry.She touched up her makeup before staring at her phone. Also a good thing that there was a strict policy aboutneverexchanging phone numbers with clients. Some did it anyway, but Judith had always seen the sense in such a rule. Now she really felt it. If Seth was in her phone, she would’ve done something stupid. Like text him.
Also a good thing that Miguel was not in her phone. She didn’t know why, though.
By the time she arrived at the Château, her face was back in somber order, but not her head. Judith thanked her driver and ascended the stairs to the Château, greeted by the bouncer and tended to by one of the maids. In a few hours, Judith would be wearing one of her best designer dresses and draping herself across the laps of a few good and rich men.
Before that, however, she had to check in with the boss.
“You’re back early.” Monica gazed at Judith from behind a piece of paper. “Did everything go all right with Dr. Christens?”
Judith could only nod. “Any messages for me?”
Monica noted her employee’s mood before answering. “Yes, actually. Mr. Bolivar called. He wants to take you out this weekend.” The end piece of her eyeglasses tapped against her mouth. “He asked to take you out for more than a night.”
“Hope you told him no.”
Monica’s smile was not reassuring. “Au contraire, Ms. King. You need to go pack your bags for this Saturday morning. By Saturday night, you won’t even be in the country anymore.”
Judith dropped her overnight bag onto Monica’s Persian rug.That’s what I think about that.
