I chuckle. “I’m certain men designed high heels. They look great, but after several hours of standing in them, they’re like a medieval torture device.”
Damon makes room and reaches down to grab both of my feet. He shifts me so that they’re in his lap while his long, skilled fingers rub the soreness from my toes. The feeling is divine, and I let out a satisfied groan as he continues to knead his way toward my heels.
“Would you be interested in accompanying me again?” He leans forward, quirks his brow, and smiles.
“Damon, I’m not the escort, I’m the fill-in. I only did this because my best friend needed my help. I’m sure Emma will never double-book again.”
“Katarina, I don’t want Emma. I want you, and I’m willing to pay you for your time.” At the mention of money, he stops rubbing my feet and pulls out his wallet. He flips through his bills and pulls out several hundred. Folding the money in half, he places it in my palm.
The crisp bills feel uncomfortable in my hand. Although they are new bills, they make me feel dirty. Before he can put his wallet away, I hand the money back to him.
Pulling my feet from his lap, I sit next to him. “Thanks for a lovely evening, but I can’t take your money. It’s just not me. Emma can justify selling her time for money, but it makes me feel wrong. I’m flattered you would like me to escort you again, but I’m not that girl.”
His head lowers as he nods in affirmation. “I understand. You’re a candy-and-flowers type of girl. You like walks in the park and movies with popcorn. Am I right?”
“You’re so good at summing me up in very few words. I wish I were different, but yes, I want the popcorn and movies.”
He heaved a sigh. “Sadly, I’m not that guy. Out of curiosity, what are your prerequisites for dating?”
I ponder this for a few moments before responding. “You can’t be a serial killer, and you need nice teeth.”
“Wow. Nice teeth? Your standards are high, Ms. Cross.”
“A girl has to set the bar somewhere.” He thinks I’m joking, but nice teeth are important, and he has a smile a dentist would be proud of.
I lean back against the seat and sit in silence for the rest of the trip. Thoughts about how nice dating Damon would be, fill my mind while I leaned against his shoulder and dozed off.
“Katarina? Wake up. We’re at your house.”
I slowly open my eyes and realize I’m nearly wrapped around his body.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.” I feel awful and cheated. I wasted fifteen minutes sleeping when I could have spent them with this man.
“You’re exhausted. Work and school can be taxing.” He walks me to my door and kisses me gently on my forehead. As he turns to leave, he says, “Call your mom and tell her thank you for the dance lessons. I had a good time.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, he looks at the sidewalk. “Take care of yourself, Katarina.”
I stand on the porch and watch him walk away and disappear from my life.
Emma opens the door and yanks me in. “Where have you been?” Her voice is almost frantic. “I was so worried about you and thought maybe you had an accident.”
“I’m fine. Contrary to your belief, Damon likes to dance. We stayed and closed the place down. He was a perfect gentleman, and I enjoyed myself. Thanks, Em. I never thought I could have so much fun.”
With her hands on her hips, she stands before me. “You like him, don’t you?” She hasn’t been home long herself because she’s still wearing the blue dress.
“Yes, I like him, but he’s out of my league. I’m not an escort, and I’d have a tough time separating my feelings from my job. How do you do it?”
“I’ve never connected with any of my clients. And while some are attractive, I feel nothing more than a tingle between my legs.”
I blush at her candor, but it is one thing I love about her. She’s an open book and always tells it like it is.
“He asked me to accompany him again,” I mention.
“Really? What did you say?”
“I told him I’m not the escort, I was the fill-in, and if he needs a companion, he should call you.”
“Hmm.” She rubs her chin. “I watched you two, and there’s something there. You haven’t seen the last of Damon Noble. He’s into you. Probably wants to get into you.”
She bursts out laughing, and I wave her off and head to bed. Six o’clock will come much too soon.
Chapter Three
Java Joes at six in the morning is pure torture. Thank goodness it’s a Saturday, and things won’t get hopping until around eight. Between the lattes and cappuccinos, my mind returns to last night’s fundraiser.
Damon Noble is an enigma. He’s handsome and rich and charming, yet he hires girls to accompany him to social functions. He could have anyone but remains alone.
There’s a story there, but it’s one I’ll never get to hear. Deep in thought, I walk through my morning on autopilot and help person after person seeing no one’s face. They all blend together.
“Hey, Kat. How’s it going?” I turn toward the familiar voice.
“Em, what are you doing here?” She hasn’t stepped inside Java Joes in over a year because she prefers the little European café down the street. She’s what you’d call a coffee snob.
“There’s something in my handbag I believe is yours.”
“Oh, sorry. I forgot to take out my lipstick and compact, but that could have waited until I got home.”
She looks to an empty table in the corner. “Can you sit with me for a few minutes?” She asks, but I know she’ll never take no for an answer.
I look over my shoulder at my fellow barista, “Can you handle everything for a few minutes? I have something I need to take care of.”
Without waiting for an answer, Em pulls me to the table where we sit down. “What went on with you and Damon last night?” Her eyes fill with questions. I recognize the look as one she gets when she’s on a fact-finding mission. Em is like a relentless dog when she’s after a bone.
“I told you everything. You were at the dinner and saw what happened.” My shoulders lifted. “After that, we danced, and then he drove me home.”
Her right brow raises. “It’s a huge deal that he did that and coupled with this”—Em slaps down several hundred dollar bills on the table—“I’m intrigued.” On top of the bills, she places his business card.
I stare at the stack in shock. Picking up the pile, I count the bills one after another.
“You don’t need to count them,” Em says. “There’s a thousand dollars there, and … he gave you his card. You should read what he wrote on the back.”
I turn the card over and see the inscription.
Best night of my life. Please reconsider.
My lips lift into a smile, and a wash of warmth spreads through me. “I wouldn’t accept payment from him. I had such a nice time, and that was payment enough.” I stare at the stack of cash. “He must have snuck it in the purse when I fell asleep on the way home.”