Billy
"This is a bad idea." Rand paced in front of me.
"What are you talking about? We've talked about this. It's just Bex. She's perfectly capable of looking past all your flaws." I grinned. "And if you piss her off, which you seem to have no problem in doing... well, she can take care of herself. She'll happily put you out of your misery. Quick, albeit, not so painlessly."
"You're not helping." He studied himself in the mirror, wiping at and picking off invisible no-see-ums from the lapel of his tuxedo.
I didn't even want to guess how much his tux cost, but he looked damned good in it. There is something incredibly sexy about a man who doesn't know just how gorgeous he is. Of course, Rand knew he was attractive, but the depth and breadth of it was lost on him. The clothes, and the visit to his favorite salons for all the cures; mani, pedi, and facial, put a luster on the already perfect sculpture. Add a perfectly tailored tuxedo... I shook my head. I should be thinking about something else right now.
I caught his eyes in the mirror. He lifted an eyebrow. "Is that what you're wearing?" He might as well have wrinkled his nose and waved a hand in front of his face as if my suit was stinking up the place.
I shot him the finger. "Sorry, my tailor's on vacation."
"You can use my guy. Get you fixed up in no time."
"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" I looked in the mirror and yanked on my lapels while glaring at Rand over my shoulder. There's nothing wrong with what I'm wearing, I thought. I look perfectly... adequate. I glared at Rand again. Him and his perfect perfectness.
"Nothings wrong with what you're wearing, but, you forget; this is Connor Chase. He's accustomed to a little more than off the rack." Rand winced. "Seriously, let me get my guy." He looked at his watch. "Could be here in ten minutes."
I looked at our reflections in the mirror and sighed with exasperation. It was like James Bond 007 and Billy Hyde double 0 nothing. The comparison was disheartening. Don't let anyone fool you into believing clothes don't make the man. In certain situations, that's all that makes the man. "Fine." I nodded.
Rand whipped out his phone, a smile on his face. "I knew you'd see it my way. It's for the best. Cinderella can't go to the ball in..."
I shot him the finger again.
~~
"You said, guy! You said, my guy, you said." I gestured with a nod in her direction. "That is not a guy. That's your sister."
Rand smiled at my discomfort. "She's the best there is. Don't get your panties in a wad." Rand's smile had increased in wattage. "She's not gonna take advantage of you."
"But..."
"Seriously? You're getting flummoxed over Ash. She's seen you naked on more than one occasion." He rolled his eyes. "We both have."
I don't know why I suddenly felt vulnerable. I'd known Ash almost as long as I'd known Rand. She used to have a massive crush on me.
"Rand. I don't have all day, I've got another appointment at 11:00." Ash stood in the doorway.
"He's being a girl." Rand and Ash exchanged a knowing glance..
I grimaced. "Fine." That seemed to be my go-to phrase. I looked at Rand. "Is this because of the other day with Bex? This is your revenge."
His gasp of astonishment was answer enough.
"Assume the position," Ash spoke with authority armed with a measuring tape and a soluble marker, as I stood in the center of the room, arms out, legs spread apart, muttering incoherently about my vengeance being swift and furious.
I jumped as she ran the tape up the length of my inner thigh. I imagined a devious grin on her face that mirrored Rand's. She threaded the tape around my waist and hips. "Stand up straight." She nudged me. "Don't slouch. And don't suck in your gut." She measured my arm span and my chest, again threading the tape with an intimate touch.
"For the record, I don't have a gut." I was holding my breath as she measured the breadth of my shoulders.
"Okay, once more for good measure."
"You already have all my measurements," I complained. "For that wedding, we went to in..."
"That was a couple of years ago." Ash shrugged her shoulders and looked at her measurements. "You've let yourself go. Now be still. She tapped my stomach. "Don't hold in your gut."
I groaned internally. She kneeled in front of me and started over.
When she was done she rolled the cloth tape around her palm like a bandage. She had written my measurements on the inside of her wrist. She studied the numbers and then nodded to herself. "I'll call in the measurements and have Brad start. I'll have it ready by 4:00." Ash looked at her brother. "If you bring him by the shop at say 12:30ish, we'll do a quick fitting and I can do any necessary adjustments."
Rand saluted smartly "Aye aye, captain."
Ash rolled her eyes and was gone.
I turned on Rand instantly. "What the hell? You couldn't tell me it was going to be Ash?"
"You would have said no. I think, your inner straight guy liked it. Sometimes, I see him struggling."
"Oh really?"
"When a beautiful woman walks by."
I shake my head. "We've had this discussion before. Just because I find someone beautiful, doesn't mean I find him or her attractive. My inner straight guy is probably thinking, she's beautiful, I bet she has a hot brother." Rand smirked at that and I realized what I had just said. "Clearly, you're the exception to the rule."
Rand scoffed and once again did his have-you-seen-this gesture.
I couldn't roll my eyes fast enough. "Whatever."
"You know and I know the truth." He shook his head with dismay. "Denial is not pretty on you."
"Yeah well, you missed a no-see-um. It glints like a tiny little spotlight when it catches the light." I crossed my arms. "And I'm not gonna tell you where it is."
Connor
"You like him, don't you?"
Bex jammed her elbow into my back, adding pressure as she supposedly massaged a knot. "You..." She pressed down harder in a circular motion. "...Don't get to ask me about guys."
"I'll take that as a yes." I sounded like I was being tortured in a covert black site for top-secret information. I had half a mind to yell out my name and social security, but Bex was under the impression, she was born to be a masseuse and I was certain, she wouldn't take to my jest lightly.
"What's the big deal?" I cringed as she pounded the heel of her palm with renewed urgency. "Seriously!"
Bex huffed out a breath of air. I waited patiently, enduring her ministrations in pained silence.
"Rand's a giant pain in the ass."
I couldn't help but grin. She was always calling me the same thing.
"Is that why you agreed to go?"
"You are such a pain in the ass," Bex emphasized each word with another jab of pressure to the middle of my trapezoid muscle.
"Becca Hardcastle is getting soft." It was becoming increasingly more difficult to speak as the pressure increased. She might as well be jumping up and down on top of me. "And what about your boss?"
The pressure relented, suddenly. "What do you mean? What about him?"
"I mean; I know you like him, despite the fact that you bitch about him constantly. Bex isn't happy unless she's bitching about something." I started to get up and turn over so I could look at her, but she forced me flat on my stomach again, pressing an elbow to the trap muscle below my shoulder blade. "But really; is he a good guy, B?"
"I wouldn't work for him if he wasn't a good guy. I certainly wouldn't have set you up on a date with him. Is he a saint? No. He's actually your type."
"I don't have a type when it comes to V-Day. Except rich."
"You, definitely, have a type. Rich hasn't always been it. He reminds me of Bran."
Even after all this time, the sound of his name, the way she spoke it, evoked a response. "Bran was a long time ago, B." I smiled as memories came to the fore, the three of us in Hyde Park, in London, running from angry swans in Kensington Gardens, tramping our way through Europe, staying in hostels, guarding our belongings, such as they were, like a treasured hoard. Our pooled funds provided enough to eat or drink, but not both. Suffice it to say, we were drunk a great deal of the time. "Sometimes, I go weeks.... months without thinking about him. And I think I'm happy, then I remember."
"We were just kids. On an adventure." I guess she noted my melancholy. "What's with you?" Her massage had taken on an actual massage-like quality and not something created for the Spanish Inquisition.
I shrugged. "I think this may be my last time."
"What? Really? That's..."
I'd pondered quitting before, but had never gone through with it. This time felt different. "It was fun. Extravagant. Exciting. I've seen the world. I just... I don't need the money, and really, that's why I started in the first place. We were in dire straits, back then. Now I have plenty tucked away, more than enough."
"No, I think it's great. You know I never liked it anyway. Especially after..." Bex's hands rested on my shoulder blades. We had tread onto topics seldom discussed. First, Brandon, who had captured my teenage heart quickly and easily, so long ago, and then the incident involving my assault.
"That's not the reason. I can take care of myself now."
"I know." She spoke barely above a whisper.
"I just don't want to be that guy anymore."
Bec laughed if only to herself. "You are that guy. You're the guy everyone wants to be."
"Except for that whole prostitute part," I added with a smirk. "I don't want to be him. I want to be..." I shook my head.
"We're not having a pity party for the millionaire escort." She leaned down and dropped a quick peck on the back of my head. "I'm glad you're quitting."
"I'm thinking about it."
"No, you're quitting. I can tell. I've known you long enough, Connor Chase. It's already a done deal." Bex laughed looking towards the brightness of the window.
"What?"
She shook her head. "Nothing. I was gonna say something rude."
I looked at her expectantly.
"I was just gonna say, if anybody can make you want to quit, it'll be Billy. But, I'm not serious. Honestly, he's a great guy. If I were gay..."
"Well you're not, so, don't even finish that sentence."
"Honestly. Billy is a great guy. I think, no I know, you'll like him. He's fun. And funny. Not to mention easy on the eyes. Like you." She smacked my butt. Punctuating the compliment.
I pushed up off the bed. "I know, you planned on wearing that little black dress of yours, but I got you something. Maybe you'll wear it instead?" I went to the closet and pulled out a nondescript garment bag.
"What did you do?" I loved Bex's smile. It shone in her eyes, making her beautiful.
I shrugged. "Try it on. See if it fits." I've known her measurements for ages and knew it would.
I left her to it and walked into the kitchen and heard her voice echo through the loft. "What are you wearing?"
"Oh you know, same ol thing, potato sack with a hemp pull string..." I rolled my eyes. "You have to ask?"
"Well, I don't have to, but I thought; it'd be nice. Show I care."
I heard a hushed gasp. "D'you like it?" I didn't hear anything and knew she was trying it on.
While the Keurig did its thing I read the news, scrolling through Apple NEWS jumping from an article about the polarized political division in DC from the New York Times to a conspiracy-laden article about the forthcoming election from FOX news.
"So?"
I looked up. "Woah! You look... Amazing!"
I watched as she gave the dress a slow whirl. "It's beautiful, Con. I love it. It'll go great with that potato sack you're wearing." She drew me into an embrace. "Seriously, thank you."
"Welcome."
She hugged me tighter for a moment then released me. "Now get out. I need to get ready. And so do you. If you're late for your appointments..." She gestured at my hair, my face, and the rest of me as if I was going in for major work and not simple polishing.
I looked at my watch. "Okay, they'll be here at 7:00. I'll be back by 5:00."
We blew kisses, as I poured coffee into a travel mug. I was excited. Something I hadn't felt in a long time.
* * *