Page 22 of Reckless Desire

Having a job would also help me find new friends, my circle. People who don’t know how gullible I used to be, how I made choices that led me to a situation I wouldn’t wish on anyone. A permanent job would definitely help with my debts.

I fire up my laptop to check the permanent positions available with the school board. But instead, I type Hunter Stewart into the search. Or is it Stuart? The search engine produces multiple results, but before I can go down that rabbit hole my phone rings and I snap the laptop closed.

Busted.

Jesus, it’s not like whoever calls can see me. Or understand who I am trying to cyber stalk. Or whatever I was doing.

I check the phone’s screen and groan. I don’t have it in me to listen to London or avoid her questions. I’m so deeply embarrassed about the way that stupid date impacted me, I don’t want to discuss it with my sister.

But I have to face her inquiry at some point, so I may as well rip the bandage off while the wound is fresh. That makes no sense. I shake my head and answer the call.

“Hey, Lo, you’re up bright and early on a Sunday morning.” I hope I sound like myself, but I’m never this chipper, so she’s probably already figured out something is up.

“What happened with Hunter?”

Geez, no preamble. But then I realize she sounded as if she knew something was up.

“What do you mean what happened? We had dinner, we talked, and as you may have assumed, knowing me, we didn’t have sex.”

“Why the hell not? I source someone who can safely take care of you—”

“Stop it. I can take care of myself.”

“Clearly. The combination of the vibrator and your failed dates is doing wonders for you. But back to my question. What happened?”

I roll my eyes. “I just told you.”

“What I don’t understand is why he returned his fee? Have you robbed the man of reason and turned him into a monk like you are?”

“He returned his fee? Why?” My heart hammers so hard I fear it’ll burst inside my temple. It’s a good thing I’m sitting because my limbs go weak. I use all my remaining strength to hold the phone, but even that seems too much.

I drop it into my lap and tap the speaker button. What the hell? Why did he? Is he expecting me to call him? He doesn’t know I’ve seen his wife and daughter. Oh God.

“Well, I called him to ask.” God help me, London has no shame gauge. “In his words, ‘I don’t want Sydney to be uncomfortable when we meet again.’ Why would you be uncomfortable? When are you meeting him again?”

“Never.” The events of my life are like domino blocks. As soon as I carefully place one, it tumbles and takes down everything else. Not that this Hunter thing could be compared to my previous disasters. It can’t. Why do I need to remind myself of that?

“He seems to think you’ll see each other. Why?”

“We kissed and he gave me his card. He said it was his best date yet.” The numbness spreads through me like mercury, poisoning me with detachment. I might as well tell her everything.

“How unprofessional. It’s not like you would ever date a male prostitute. What was he thinking?”

“It’s not like that. We really had a great time.” My voice shakes.

“Damn it. Okay, let’s have breakfast. I’m downstairs.”

Wait, what? “You’re here? In Brooklyn?”

“I was in the neighborhood.”Unlikely.“Put on something casual and we’ll find pancakes somewhere.”

I don’t want to go out, but I want to stay home even less. I put on jeans and a simple black T-shirt and drag myself outside. London gets out of her car and hugs me.

“I’m sorry my present achieved the exact opposite of its intent. You were supposed to fuck him, not start a relationship.”

I lean into her embrace because it feels so good to have someone on my side. “You know the worst part? I was considering giving him, us, a chance, but he’s married.”

And the dam breaks and I cry into London’s sleeveless cashmere top. I cry because Jeremy robbed me of any joy. Because I’ve spent the last three years like a hermit. And I cry because the night I started opening up to the outside world turned out to be a big fat lie.

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