Sex, Lies, and Beauty Aides (23 page)

BOOK: Sex, Lies, and Beauty Aides
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“Sure,” he responded, but played with his food.

Whatever bothered him really tore him up inside. She empathized,
tried to snuggle up to him. Teased and cajoled him into a better mood. Nothing worked.

He was bothered so deeply, she didn’t think offering herself up on a platter, dipped in chocolate, and ready for sex would help. Not that she was ready to it, but that’s how badly she wanted to banish his despair.

Maybe it was time for her to take a leap of faith. She admitted to herself she fallen head over heels in love with him the morning she woke on the couch, wrapped in his arms.

He was the one for her. There was no doubt in her mind.

* * * *

Trent paced, unable to let go of the conversation with Sabrina. Disturbed by his conversation with Kat, added to that mix his breakfast with Sabrina and nothing was going to fix the predicament he was in.

Kat was right. He was up shit creek.

He should have kept Sabrina at arm’s length until Travis came back then made his play for her. Screw hindsight. He was too deeply ensconced in hell and at a complete loss to figure out how to fix the mess he’d made.

Here it was Monday and he was holed up in his office two days before Christmas. Time moved too fast for him. He focused on the situation that practically paralyzed him, refusing to leave his office until he figured out a solution.

He couldn’t think.

He couldn’t eat.

He couldn’t seem to function on any level.

No wonder Travis had fallen bait to the pressures. At least he had an excuse. Travis had been expected to handle the family’s money and he’d been accused of sitting on his ass letting Travis do all the work. The fact of the matter was, Uncle Max, their father’s twin brother died two years ago, leaving a disgustingly obscene amount of money to Trent. He kept Uncle Max’s legacy alive and was technically juggling more than Travis. The funny thing about the whole mess was he was actually worth more than Travis. Fat lot of good it did him. The family mistakenly believed he was living off Max’s legacy and nothing more.

The Pro-Am Golf Tournament he was a participant in was his added contribution to the legacy. His uncle’s funds gave the current charity plenty to survive on. His paperwork had been submitted. He just needed to work on his stroke. As soon as Travis returned he planned to leave immediately for Palm Springs. Only, he had to square things with Sabrina.

Priorities. Travis first. Sabrina second. Tournament third.

He’d handle what he owed to Travis.

The magazine’s employees didn’t simply work there, no they had become a family that cared about what they published. He’d been proud of what they’d been able to produce in three weeks. What he feared most was what would happen once Travis took over. What then?

The magazine wasn’t something he imagined Travis enjoying. Maybe he could convince his brother to go home and let him continue on once he proved he was capable. Travis would be free to head back east where he was happiest.

He’d done his best in Travis’ absence. All these questions added to his overwhelming, already stressful situation.

Trent liked the west coast. The laid back attitudes, the warmer climate suited to him. Hell, he loved California.

Sabrina.

She was another topic altogether. He didn’t just love her, he was in love with her, and confident she felt the same way. The torture his mind put him through gave him serious reservations. Dejected and filled with gloom and doom, as if he’d let her down.

Had he really done anything so awful? Damn straight. He’d lied.

The worst thing he did to Sabrina was to pretend to be Travis and find out she was in love with Trent and not admit it. It did him no good to worry about it now, too late. Especially considering their conversations about lies. In that respect he was a low-down-dirty-son-of-a-bitch because his admission was guaranteed to hurt her.

Everything was clear to him now.

In her eyes, she’d admitted to Travis how she felt about Trent. But she’d bared her soul to the wrong person. It was flattering their one and only introduction left such a huge imprint on her. In Sabrina’s eyes it wouldn’t make a damn bit of difference in the long run. A lie was a lie was a lie.

He was filled with sadness and fear, terrified their relationship would end. Worry and panic didn’t begin to cover the depth of his pain or how agonizingly unbearable life without Sabrina would be. He had to stop the torment and tell her the truth. And he needed to do it fast.

He was miserable.

Hell, he was miserable to be around.

His usually carefree attitude disappeared. Oppression plagued his every move. He questioned every decision. Full of remorse and wracked with guilt, he was beset with doubt over his motivations for everything he did. There was no solace for him. He was there under false pretenses regardless of the fact he’d done a damn fine job.

What to do?

Admit the truth, no brainer.

He’d covered for Travis. But that meant the family would find out about Travis’ problem.

They were used to Trent’s screw-ups.

Not Travis.

No, he’d take that secret to the grave. No matter what, he didn’t want Travis to experience the stark bewilderment nor the perplexing emotions courtesy of the family.

Hell no.

An admission to the staff about their deceit? Nope, wasn’t gonna happen either. He had to convince Travis to let him handle the magazine. Let the team see the two of them and get Travis to leave him in charge.

Damn, he needed someone to talk to and unfortunately Kat was the only one available. Maybe if he swayed her she’d be his ally with the family and help convince them he was capable of handling the job.

This job meant everything to him. He’d never looked forward to anything so much in his life. He was a part of a team. Liked what they stood for, wanted to see each and every member succeed.

Whether Sabrina forgave him or not he wanted to stay with the magazine. How would he find someone to replace her if she left? No one could replace the spirit she brought to her every endeavor.

Who else but Sabrina cared so deeply for her readers she’d put herself through such misery for the sake of her beauty aids. He loved the mental image of Sabrina’s plump swollen lips that first day. He’d taken her damnable mask and kept it on his nightstand by the bed. A fond memory of what it took to get that first kiss. Witnessing first hand her wounded pride when he’d laughed and relived every wince she’d let out when he’d tried to remove it. Even the struggle to keep his laughter at bay when she defended him made him smile. Her distress when he’d told her of her new duties. How irked she’d been when Kat remained silent.

He couldn’t do the job without her.

Kat was his answer. He’d be willing to do anything to prove his point.

He dialed Kat.

“I need to talk to you. It’s urgent.”

“Hello to you, as well. Where’s the fire?”

“I don’t want to get into it over the phone.”

“Uh-oh, I smell trouble.”

“Can I interest you in dinner at the Top Hat?”

“Oh, it is serious when you’re plying me with food at my favorite restaurant.”

“It’s a matter of life and death. Mine.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Please.”

“Fine, what time are you picking me up?”

“Can you be ready in thirty minutes?”

“You are in a rush. Sounds like there’s a bottle of Cristal in it for me.”

“Whatever you want. Name it.”

“Oh this is going to be good. Fine, I’ll be ready.”

“Thanks.”

He hung up before she could respond.

Trent left the office and went home. He dropped his cell and Travis’s on the table by the front door. He took the world’s fastest shower, dressed, and left to pick up Kat.

He grabbed his cell on the way out, and left Travis’ phone behind. He didn’t want any interruptions. He needed to focus on what to say, what to do, and how to get it done.

He knew how to hedge his bet. Treat Kat to a nice meal. Plead his case and hope to God things worked out.

He had to believe in the possibilities.

And if all else failed, beg like a dog.

 

 

12

 

Two days before Christmas Sabrina still had a few questions and Angel didn’t have the answers. Outside The Satin Slipper, she berated herself for the cowardly way she dawdled. For crying out loud it was only a store. Who cared if most everything in it was XXX-rated and it had a slimy reputation. There had to be more to it. She had promised to try to grow her mind and become more evolved. Now was the time to take a deep breath, suck it up, and do her job. Besides, if Mitzi and Vera went in there, so could she.

Come on stupid if you want to have any chance to show Travis what you’re made of get your butt inside and ask questions
.

That’s all it took.

Hand on the door, she marched inside and was immediately pleased to see the place deserted. Whew.

At the counter she cleared her throat. “Um—excuse me.”

“You want something?”

“I certainly hope so. I’m looking for—uh—”

“Yes.” A barely twenty-something girl behind the counter sat on a wooden stool, legs crossed, filing her nails. She didn’t even bother to look up as she chewed a wad of gum, snapping it.

“Well, it’s like this. I work for a magazine and I need to interview—uh—is the manager in?”

“I’m the day manager. What’s your question?” The girl was hell bent to make her work for an answer. Dang.

“Okay, here’s the deal. I need some help with an article for a magazine and I need to interview someone with experience who can give me the ins and outs of how people use your store.” If she pretended to do an article on her, maybe the girl would open up. “Any chance you have suggestions. I’ll be glad to pay for the time.”

“I see.”

“I’m doing an article on adult stores and the products, and well to be honest about the bare bones details.”

“Excuse me?” The girl asked mid snap then gave her a bored look before she hopped down and went to the back room. Her expression was a cross between skeptical and downright amused.

It irritated the daylights out of her. She was embarrassed to be twenty-four and clueless about sex. The girl probably knew more than she did. This job was either going to give her the courage of David and the strength of Hercules or her ego was likely to be completely pulverized.

The gal returned minutes later and handed Sabrina three business cards. One for Candy Kane, one for Sammy Stevens, and the last for Xanadu.

Hookers?

What better way to find out about sex and what men want. Genius.

“Thank you. You’ve made my job much easier.”

“Anytime.” She snapped her gum and went back to her nails.

Outside she pulled her cell phone from her purse and dialed Xanadu. She made an appointment to meet her at the Pink Elephant across the street from the store and agreed on a price. She’d have an hour to do the interview then she’d finish her Christmas shopping. She still needed to find a gift for Travis.

Sabrina headed straight to the bar to use the time to come up with the questions she wanted to ask. She ordered a drink and started to jot them down. Questions came fast and plentiful.

Someone tapped her shoulder. “Excuse me. Miss Thompson?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Xanadu.” The most gorgeous, statuesque brunette she’d ever seen removed a beautiful mink coat. Almost six feet tall, she sported a black leather ultra-mini skirt and fuchsia sequined halter top, shiny black silk nylons and five-inch spiked heels.

Sabrina felt like an insignificant rock. She fumbled and knocked her purse off from lap, dumping the contents on the floor.

The brunette squatted beside her and helped her gather her things including the two hundred bucks for the next hour.

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