Before I even have a chance to give Rachel my drink order, Jules cuts in. “We’ll take a bottle of your best pinot noir, please.” My gaze drags from the server, over to him. He’s already watching me, one brow raised as if daring me to say anything about him ordering for me.
He’s fucking intense.
Clearing her throat, Rachel nods. “Absolutely! Are y’all ready to order, too, or would you like a few minutes?”
“A few minutes, please,” he replies, his voice like melted butter.
The moment she’s out of earshot, I glance at him before quickly averting my gaze. “This is stupid. I don’t know why you’re insisting I stay here. You’re wasting your money.”
“Why are you here, Bodhi?” It’s the second time he’s asked.
“What the fuck do you mean? I’m here because you hired me, obviously.”
“Don’t be a smartass.” My head snaps up, meeting his gaze, probably looking as dumbfounded as I feel. “Imean, why are you here, for hire, in the first place?”
Is he serious?“That’s none of your damn business,” I hiss. “I haven’t seen you or your family in what, five or six years, and you think you have any right to ask me why I do what I do for a living? Fuck off.”
“Whoa.” He holds his hands up innocently. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m just a little surprised.”
“Yeah, and I’m not?”
Our server comes back, interrupting our back-and-forth, with the bottle of wine and two long-stemmed glasses. Opening the bottle, she pours a small amount into one of the glasses to allow Jules to taste and give his approval. I can’t help but zone in on the air of authority and confidence he carries himself with. He has the type of personality and body language that make someone know not to question him. He’s theboss,it’s very clear. Once he sniffs the wine and takes a sip, letting it swirl around in his mouth, he nods, and she pours us each a glass before taking our orders.
He orders the lobster, while I get a Caesar salad with the house soup. I’m surprised he doesn’t attempt to order for me again. A thick sheet of silence blankets the table as I look anywhere but at him. I can feel his heated gaze on the side of my head, but like the coward I am, I can’t face it.
Despite loathing the taste of wine, I down the glass without much thought, pouring another right away. After what feels like hours, he speaks, startling me out of my anxious, racing mind.
“How have you been, Bodhi?”
The question takes me by surprise, as does the sincerity in his tone. My head feels light, like I’m going to pass out at any second, and I’m finding it hard to breathe. Running a trembling hand through my hair, I meet his gaze, despite how difficult it is.
“I’ve been well.” I consider not asking in return, because a conversation is the verylastthing I need to do with him right now, but he is still a paying client after all. Can’t exactly be rude. “How have you been?”
A half-smirk tugs on one side of his nice, full lips. “I’ve been okay. Moved to Raleigh not that long ago for work. Do you live here?”
“No.” It’s a completely inappropriate question for a John to ask an escort. Giselle would have him by the balls if she knew.
His brows pinch together. “Oh? Do you live far? I hope you didn’t have to drive too out of your way tonight.”
“I’m a few towns over. It wasn’t too bad.” I shrug. “It’s my job.”
Thankfully, our food arrives and we’re able to put a cork in this uncomfortable small talk, but not without the weight of curious eyes staring back at me, more questions I don’t want to answer simmering below the surface.
Chapter Five
Jules van der Meer
Bodhi fucking King…the shy kid who used to come over to my house on an almost daily basis, who was bullied, and who couldn’t look you in the eye to save his life is sitting across from me in the lounge at one of the city’s nicest hotels. He’s anescortwho I unknowingly hired for the evening, with hopes of hiring on more than one occasion.
What are the fucking odds? The one time I finally allow myself something like this, it’s someone I know on a semi-personal level. My kid’s old friend, to boot.
He tried to leave when he got here. I should’ve let him, I know this, but I couldn’t. Some part—some deep, fucked up part of me—needed him to sit down. Needed to find out what he’s been up to, who he’s become since he was the defeated, unsure young man who was once my son’s best friend. It’s sick and twisted, but it’s true. Even now, glancing at the man sitting across from me, he seems lost. Why is that? Why do his icy blue eyes carry a level of sadness that should be crippling? No matter how wrong, that part of me has to find out. Find out if his sorrow mirrors mine.
He’s barely touched his food. A few bites of his salad, but otherwise, he’s just pushing it around the plate. He also hasn’t said a word since before the server dropped the food off either. Finishing off the wine in my glass, I set it beside my plate, clearing my throat.
“How long have you been doing this? I ask gently, knowing he’s probably going to get defensive again. I have to hold back a chuckle when his piercing eyes lift, shooting daggers at me.
“We’ve been over this. It’s none of your damn—”
