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Authors: Kristen Strassel

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BOOK: Wrapped Around My Finger
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It was a rare occasion when my best friend squirmed. “Yeah. I’m thrilled you two will be working together. My idea of happily ever after is different than yours. I don’t want to lose myself in the relationship like you do. Get that look off your face, I don’t mean it as a bad thing. But the more I get to know Reno, the more I see it your way. All I’m asking is that you give him a chance.”

“I will.” If he was an asshole, he was getting seventies-style gold appliances. “If you do the same thing for Jagger.”

Chapter Six

J
agger

“What’s your next job gonna be, the Incredible Hulk’s stunt double?” Zach rubbed a towel over his wet hair and grinned at me. He’d wimped out and gone to the shower, but I was still working out. My muscles had turned to goo, way past mind over manner, and I had to stop.

I’d always worked hard on my body. Many people considered it all I had to offer.

“Maybe. What’s the pay like?” My legs trembled when I stood up. I so overdid it.

“Not as good as being an escort.” Zach tossed the towel at me. I caught it and wiped the sweat away. “Are you sure about this? Barry’s losing his shit. Your clientele doesn’t want to fuck just anybody. Apparently you’ve got a special something.”

I threw the sweaty towel back at him. Zach and I started with Barry around the same time, and we became friends by comparing notes. I couldn’t talk about my job with my other buddies over a beer, they didn’t get it. And they didn’t want me anywhere near their wives, thinking I’d take them to bed. Only if they paid me.

Hey, it was the truth. It was my job. I didn’t deal with the after-effects of my clients’ lives when the appointment ended. I punched out and went on with my life.

“They’ll get over it. You have to up your game.”

Zach scoffed. “There’s nothing wrong with my game, brother.”

After I took a shower, we went out for a drink. I didn’t want to go home.

“So what is it about her? Leah, right? I watched her show, and she’s cute, but I’m surprised she’s the one.”

“Fuck you, man,” I said. Zach was an asshole.

“You always had the touch with the older ladies.” Zach wiggled his eyebrows and took a sip of his beer. He got under my skin every time he talked about Leah, always mentioning her age. She was six years older than me. At this point in our lives, it meant nothing. “But seriously, how did you know? Don’t get me wrong, I have the best job in the world, but it’s a job.”

The answer was easy. “I couldn’t stop thinking about her.” I knew he’d drag more details out of me if I didn’t give them willingly. “She didn’t want what the rest of the clients wanted.”

“Freaky sex?” The waitress came to the table as he said that. She turned bright red, coming in at the wrong part of that conversation. Zach didn’t agree; a slow grin spread across his face as he took the waitress in. I’d watched this scenario play out dozens of times. “You into that sort of thing, darlin’?”

The waitress stepped back, disgust blossoming on her face. Not tonight, my friend. “Another round?” she asked.

“Please,” I said before Zach had a chance to make more of an ass out of himself.

He watched her ass sway back to the bar before continuing. “As I was saying, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself without the sex. Not normal sex, like if I talked the waitress into coming home with me. Yeah, I know that’s not happening. But I can get that anywhere. It’s the crazy shit that I crave. I need it. You do, too, Jag. Leah’s not into that?”

I hadn’t been completely honest with Leah about why I’d stayed in the escorting business so long. Yeah, the money was unbelievable. As much as I bitched about it, I hadn’t worked a day in my life. I got paid to do what so many people hungered for, and Zach was right. I stayed in because I needed it, too. Even though I was often asked to dominate my clients, take the reins, I was never actually in control. It was always the client’s choice what we did, how far we’d go. The thrill of the unknown, pushing all the limits, that was the part I’d miss. I wasn’t ready to give it up.

But Leah was so much more than sex. She’d brought my soul to life, and without her, it had insomnia.

I’d only been back in Miami for two days. So far it had been a mix of resisting all my old habits and having no idea what to do next. I needed to make this city mine again.

“We haven’t gone there yet,” I said.

The waitress got in and out with our fresh drinks in record time. Zach only got a chance to wink at her before she disappeared. “You don’t even know if you’re sexually compatible with this woman?”

Death by vodka tonic. What a way to go. “We’re compatible,” I said once the coughing stopped.

“How can you say that? Has she crawled across the room, naked, and begged you for your cock? Does she even have a safe word?”

“It’s not always about that.” My mouth watered with the vision Zach put in my head. Leah on her hands and knees, her tits swaying, those big brown eyes looking up at me. Her lipstick smeared all over my cock. I shifted on my bar stool. “We have our own thing.”

“Bullshit. She’s changing you. You don’t want that. Next thing you know, you’ll cut your hair, move up there, and drive a minivan or some shit. What are you gonna do for work?”

I took a long sip of my drink. The vodka was too smooth. I needed the burn of rotgut tonight. “I’m opening the gallery. The plan hasn’t changed.”

Zach’s laugh took over his entire body. His head tipped back, and he spread his legs out like he needed leverage. “Jagger, this changes everything. You can’t quit your job for a woman and go back to business as usual. Not just any woman, a fucking successful one. She was just on an ad for the morning show.” My head whipped around, hoping to catch a glimpse. I loved that ad, I rewound it over and over every time I saw it on TV. It was Leah and the big reveal of a makeover with one of her clients. She looked so proud. And absolutely gorgeous. Zach shook his head. “See? She’s got you wrapped around her finger. You can’t fit her into your life when it’s convenient. She wants things, too.”

Of course she did. Leah wanted me to work for her, at a job I had no business having. It would be a matter of time before I fucked it up, fucked our relationship up. This was give and take. I was used to that, but on a totally different level. I had no fucking idea what I was doing in a relationship.

**

W
e didn’t stay late. The night was cool by Miami standards, but a virtual heatwave compared to what I’d just come from. It was fitting that Leah lived in a different world than I did, it helped put everything into compartments. I wasn’t pushing her away; that was the last thing I wanted to do. I planned to bring her into my life here, and I had to make it as good, if not better than what she already had. She’d come to expect success. She hated to be held back, and I suspected she’d feel the same way about failure.

We were still so new to each other, and while she’d become as much a part of my life as breathing, we had a long way to go. Our present was scorching hot, but we needed a future. I’d never thought about my life after escorting because I didn’t think it was possible. Still wasn’t convinced. It had been something I’d have to do the rest of my life, until I added something that made me not need it anymore.

I never expected that thing to be a woman.

Wynwood was on the way home. I loved this part of the city—the vibe, the music ringing out of the bars, people that spilled out of them onto the sidewalks, and especially the colors. Hot, tropical tones, bold graffiti, breathtaking art. Wynwood had been the industrial part of Miami, decaying warehouses and factories had been revived into a place that made the blood sing in my veins. No wonder I loved it. I couldn’t wait for Leah to come soak it all in. This was exactly what she was trying to accomplish with her show.

It killed me not to be a part of it. That was pretty much my dream job. An opportunity like that knocked once. An opportunity that didn’t have to chase anyone—it had plenty of suitors. I couldn’t ignore the lifestyle I wanted and let Leah be my boss and my lover. What would be left of me? As much as I hated to admit it, Zach was right. I’d invited her to a place few people had been. I showed her my artistic side, and she made it blossom. But I had yet to introduce her to the rest of me.

I’d walked away from the biggest part of my life, and I didn’t know what I needed to make me whole. Besides her. And this gallery.

The side street that gallery waited for me on was quieter than the neighboring street I’d come from. More galleries and stores surrounded it, closed for the night, and its patrons had moved on. Something was different, I knew it before I had a chance to park the bike. My heart pounded as I walked along the dark sidewalk. I’d courted this property like a shy suitor for months—admiring it from the distance, but never making contact. I had grand plans for it. Together we’d bring beautiful, haunting, grotesque art to the community. To me, they were all the same thing. But tonight, the only grotesque thing was the sign hanging in the window.

Coming soon! Mirabella’s Tapas Bar! Now hiring! Submit your application at...

Fuck.

I’d waited too long.

It was just a building. An empty hull to house my dream. The glass rattled when my hand slammed against it. That sign, so cheery and full of promise, changed everything. I’d had my heart set on this place for so long, and I took having it slip away to someone else personally.

The engine echoed against the quiet buildings when I revved it too hard.

I’d learned my lesson. The time was now.

Chapter Seven

L
eah

I’d only met Reno Romano once. It was at the reunion, in a haze of sangria, rage, and lust, so I didn’t trust my memory. I’d treat him like any other client and go into this meeting with professionalism and an open mind. The butterflies in my stomach always came along. Just because he was dating my best friend didn’t mean he wasn’t batshit crazy. In this business, big, eccentric personalities were par for the course, so I learned to expect the unexpected.

But this wasn’t any meeting. I’d worked with Oscar-winning actors, rock stars that made my heart skip a beat, and many powerful politicians. But I’d never worked with my best friend. Kari sat on the couch in Reno’s living room.

She jumped up and hugged me. A little more enthusiastic than our usual greeting, but I had a feeling the butterflies were fluttering in her belly, too. Kari had nothing to worry about. I planned on giving Reno more of a chance than she’d given Jagger.

“Give him your all,” she whispered. “He didn’t agree to do this because of me. He’s doing it because he loves your work.”

Kari knew exactly how to get me to relax. “I like him already.” I didn’t bother to whisper back because Reno was standing behind her. I reached out to shake his hand. “I know we’ve met already, but that other time doesn’t count.”

Reno laughed. “You could tell me almost anything about that reunion and I’d believe you. I haven’t drunk that much since college. So I have no problem saying, it’s nice to finally meet you, Leah. Kari says nothing but wonderful things about you.”

“Then we have something in common because she gushes about you every chance she gets.” I joined Kari on the couch and pulled my laptop out of my bag. The interns at the office picked on me because I didn’t use a tablet, but I couldn’t risk losing inspiration because I was fumbling with technology. I stuck with what I knew. “I stalked you a little bit when Kari gave me your address, to get an idea of what your house might look like. I drew up some plans, and I’d love to hear what you have in mind.”

“I’d really like to entertain here,” he said. He met my gaze, but it quickly slid to Kari as if she had a magnetic pull on him. The butterflies in my belly danced for a totally different reason. “My restaurants are clean and modern, and this place looks like a frat house.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. You’ve got a great space for entertaining. Are you drawn to any particular style? You mentioned clean and modern, but I want you to be able to relax. I believe in keeping work separate from home life.” Which is why I had an office with its own entrance.

He leaned forward in his worn chair. I wondered if he’d had that since college or if it was a hand-me-down. Like me, he lived in a renovated classic Washington row house, long, skinny, and thankfully, open. We wouldn’t have to knock down any walls, which was a blessing. Maybe it was just the furniture, but the place looked tired. I wasn’t surprised. Kari’s place would look like this if I wasn’t her best friend. Work first, everything else fell behind in a jumble.

“Growing up, my house was always full of people. It smelled like my grandmother’s sauce, and there was no cohesive design. She came here from Italy, didn’t speak English, and pulled the whole thing together as she could. That’s home to me.”

I could practically smell the oregano. I loved that he told me about his grandma. That was everything I needed to know about Reno. “Cozy, inviting, with space for entertaining, does that sound right?”

“Sounds perfect.”

I turned my laptop around to face him. “Here are some mock-ups. These are rough ideas. Scroll through and if you like anything, let me know. Tell me if you hate it, too. That’s just as important. It doesn’t have to be exactly like the picture. Think more in terms of elements, or ingredients. We can take the smallest piece and make it something special.”

This was always the most nerve-wracking part of meeting with a client for the first time. I usually had Diane with me. She’d smooth over my rough edges, and steer the budget back into something production was willing to pay. Although, it was sadly amazing how many items we could get for free because it would be shown in a famous person’s home on a national TV show.

Reno sat between Kari and me on the couch. She automatically put her hand on his leg and looked over his shoulder. He went through every image, pointing out what he liked and what he didn’t. Even if he didn’t know why, he was very decisive about his choices. A theme emerged, and I had what I needed.

“You still use a notebook?” Kari peeked around Reno, smiling at my steno pad.

BOOK: Wrapped Around My Finger
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