Ambitious (NeXt Book 4), page 3
I toss one of my favorite shirts into a suitcase as some story about a bobcat loose in a local elementary school begins. See? The story of our escort business getting busted doesn’t even rank higher than a wild animal on the prowl feature.
“And now for our lead story, the arrest of the owners of the escort service that’s been running right here in Gainesville for years, right under everyone’s noses. We’ve got team coverage on this breaking story starting with reporter Casey Grounder outside the home of Cassian March, one of the owners of the business. Casey, what else do we know?”
My mouth drops open when I see the front of my building right there on the TV screen in front of me. So much for thinking this isn’t really a big deal here.
The pretty brunette reporter with perfectly straight, white teeth flashes a grin that seems inappropriate for the big deal they’re making of this story. I know I should turn off the TV, but it’s like I can’t stop myself from hearing them talk about my problems.
“Sheila, I’m here in front of Cassian March’s apartment building where police arrested him last night here in the parking lot. He’s being charged with a variety of crimes, but the most serious is running an illegal escort service focused on women exclusively.”
I wait for her to flesh out that statement a little, but she stops talking and before my eyes, I see the men I’ve known for months, some for years, being paraded across my screen as they’re led into the police station today. Over the images, the reporter begins once again to explain our horrible crimes, but this time she gives a bit more color to the two ringleaders, as she calls us, Damon and me.
“The two owners, who police are calling ringleaders of this organization, are Cassian March IV and Damon Childress. Both men attended law school at the University of Florida right here in Gainesville, but both are dropouts, records show. Their business catered exclusively to women looking for male escorts, but authorities say the truth is they preyed on unsuspecting women.”
What the fuck is she talking about? Nobody was unsuspecting. The hoops we made them jump through just to find us, never mind the details we required before even considering pairing a client with one of our escorts, meant there wasn’t a chance in hell any of the women could be thought of as prey for us or unsuspecting in any way.
And just when I think it can’t get worse than being described as predators and seeing my employees perp walked in handcuffs into the police station downtown, the perky Casey hands over her coverage to another reporter who’s standing in front of a home I recognize immediately.
Savannah’s house.
“Casey, thanks. We’re here in front of the home of Savannah Gardener, the widow of the wildly successful hotel mogul Carson Gardener. Mrs. Gardener is one of the women caught up in Mr. March and Mr. Childress’s escort business.”
My eyes grow wide in horror when I see Savannah open her door and look out at the news crew with fear. Christ, she looks mortified.
Damnit, I never wanted this. None of this was ever supposed to happen.
Chapter Four
Savannah
“Mrs. Gardener, the police say they’re looking into charges for the women who hired the escort service. What do you have to say to that?” the blond reporter calls out from the street and then leans forward toward me, thrusting her microphone with her TV station’s logo as far as her arm can stretch.
I don’t say a word, merely shaking my head in disgust that every time I look out these vultures swoop in to ask me more questions. I want to say that this is a victimless crime. That what the escort service did for women like me was let them attend social functions without feeling like some kind of sad freak or outcast because they don’t date much and finding anyone to go to weddings with is difficult in the best circumstances.
My attorney has already warned me they’d try to scare me into saying something with threats of prosecution, but I’m not worried. I did nothing wrong. If the police in this town want to humiliate women just to show how prudish they are, then they can go ahead.
I have enough money to humiliate them right back.
“Honey, just close the door!” Cheyenne yells from the living room, frustrated I insist on actually seeing what these people are up to out here.
I slam it in their faces and march back through the house to the kitchen. When my husband was alive, we often had press wanting to speak to him. He was a powerful man and a successful hotel owner, so it wasn’t surprising.
They never acted like this, though. Then again, Cash isn’t like him.
Cassian March IV, more correctly. That sounds far more imposing than the name Cash. No wonder they keep using it like he’s some supervillain. And he lied about his last name. I guess I don’t have to ask why.
So the man I fell in love with wasn’t just some hired escort who ended up liking me. He’s the co-owner of the service. I wish he would have told me.
Cheyenne sits down at the island in front of me and clears her throat. “You’re getting lost in your head again, Savannah. Stop thinking about things. Trust me. It’s not going to make them any better.”
I grit my teeth so I don’t snap at her again this morning and turn around to get water from the refrigerator. “I’m not getting lost in my head.”
Behind me, she sighs. “You are, but it’s not a bad thing, per se. It’s just that I worry you’re going to get depressed when you realize everything that’s happening.”
I set the glass water pitcher on the counter between us and look directly into her eyes. “You mean like we’re going to be shunned because we dared to only want men to have on our arms for special occasions and not every day? Or do you mean the part about my falling for a man who wasn’t really an escort but a businessman the local press is making out to be some kind of Casanova law school drop out?”
My sister’s eyes open wide as I say what’s truly on my mind, but then a sly smile lights up her beautiful face. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you sound so strong, you know that?”
“Well, maybe I’m just tired of being a victim. We did nothing wrong. I think that’s something worth saying and saying with some strength.”
Cheyenne slides her hand over to touch mine and gives my fingers a gentle squeeze. “You really like him, don’t you? For what it’s worth, I think he might be good for you, Savannah.”
“I do, but it might all be a moot point anyway since I can’t seem to get in touch with him. I’ve tried three times already, but it always just goes to voicemail.”
“Honey, they probably took his phone off him. That’s how it always happens in the movies. They confiscate the bad guy’s phone and all his laptops to find out what evidence they can glean from them to use against him.”
Yanking my hand away, I pour myself a glass of water and correct her terminology. “Cash is not a bad guy. Don’t call him that.”
A sheepish look settles into her expression. “I didn’t mean it that way. I was just talking about what happens in movies when they bring someone in to arrest him. I’m guessing that’s why you can’t get in touch with him. That’s all.”
I push a glass of water over in front of her and try not to glare at her. “Fine, but don’t call him a bad guy again. We don’t know all the facts about any of this.”
“We know he ran an escort service the two of us used. At least we can say we know that.”
She seems to want to discuss this, but I don’t. I don’t care about the legality of what Cash and his partner did. Nobody got hurt. They provided a service women like us asked for, and if I hear that idiotic woman on the news call us “unsuspecting women” one more time, I’m going to scream.
My cell phone rings for the first time today, and I excitedly look to see who’s calling, hoping it’s Cash. It isn’t, sadly. Instead, I see the one name I definitely didn’t want to see this morning.
Cecile.
I hold up the phone to show Cheyenne the name. Instantly, horror fills her eyes.
“Don’t answer it!” she says, practically pleading with me to not talk to our older sister right now. “You know she’s going to be a nightmare about this.”
Nodding, I swipe to answer it anyway. “Hello, Cecile. How are you this morning?”
And with that, I put the call on speaker and set my phone on the countertop between Cheyenne and me. Like I suspect, it takes about two nanoseconds for our older sister to start her nonsense.
“How am I? Utterly humiliated is how I am. How could you do this, Savannah? You brought that man around our family. Our family! Have you no respect for us or yourself?”
“He wasn’t infected with a communicable disease, Cecile. The man simply ran a business. Stop overreacting.”
She stammers out a few unintelligible words that sound like some kind of prayer for someone to come save us all from damnation or something like that and then says, “This is so utterly embarrassing, Savannah. I had no idea you were so desperate as to hire a man to pretend to be your date. I don’t know how I’m going to ever show my face again at the club.”
My feelings are instantly hurt, but even more, I’m angry at her attack on me, so I don’t hold back when I answer. “You mean the club where I’d bet at least some of the women have hired men from Cash’s escort business? That club? Don’t kid yourself, Cecile. I wasn’t desperate. I simply didn’t want to get involved in a relationship and this made it easy for me to attend things like Spencer’s wedding so I wasn’t a sitting duck who would have to tolerate all your comments about my being single.”
I barely finish when Cheyenne leans forward and says into the phone, “And you can add me to the list of women who used that service too, Cecile. That guy Nico who was my date for the wedding? An escort. And that wasn’t the first time I’ve used them either. So get off your high horse and try living in the twenty-first century where women don’t have to be married if they don’t want to be.”
She’s so sassy, which is nothing new for my younger sister, but this time I’m right there with her. “Right. So just keep your talk of humiliation and anything else you want to say today to yourself. We’re fine, so thank you for calling. Since I’m sure Mom and Spencer plan on doing the same thing you just did, tell them they don’t have to. Feel free to give them the Cliffs Notes version of what we said, though. That way everyone can be up to speed.”
And with that, I press END and that’s the last I want to hear from my family about this matter.
Cheyenne jumps off the barstool and throws her hands up in the air. “That was the best thing ever! I never knew you could be such a badass, Savannah.”
Now that all those sassy words came out of my own mouth, I have to admit I’m a little shocked. “I didn’t know either, to be honest.”
“I like this new you,” she squeals, pointing at me like I’m something amazing. “I definitely like it.”
With a heavy exhale, I let the air out of my lungs and try to calm myself. “I’ve never spoken to anyone like that. Cecile is probably thinking I’ve lost my mind. You know what? I don’t care. Let her think whatever she wants.”
“She’s just a stick in the mud anyway, so forget her. I’m still not convinced Mom didn’t have an affair with some cool mailman to have you and me because Cecile and Spencer are the world’s two biggest flat tires.”
I smile like I feel as confident as she does, but I can’t help but hate that our family is embarrassed by us. Why do they have to be so uptight? What crime is it to want to have someone to go to family events with like Cheyenne and I did with Nico and Cash?
“Don’t worry, Savannah. I see it written all over your face. You’re worried Mom and Dad are going to be angry with you. Trust me. This will all blow over. I won’t let you deal with it alone, though. Nico and all those other guys I spent time with from Cash’s escort service were some of the best dates I’ve ever had. They wanted me to be happy, and I got exactly what I wanted. Plus, that Nico was an okay guy and a fantastic lay.”
My mouth drops open in shock. “You slept with him?”
Cheyenne tilts her chin up proudly. “Of course, I did. You saw him. I would have been crazy not to. He’s gorgeous with a body to die for. It was the best part of the day, and I regret nothing.”
I burst out in nervous laughter at my sister’s admission. If only I could be as badass as she is. “He really was gorgeous. Good for you. I’m glad you had a good time. Too bad the poor guy was arrested.”
“For making women happy! Leave it to this place to be so damn provincial,” she says before sitting down on her barstool again. “What kind of world is it we live in when putting a smile on a woman’s face is a crime? Seriously, you’d swear the guy was a serial killer or something. It’s ridiculous. The cops should be spending their time on real crimes and leave guys like Nico and Cash alone.”
None of what she says is wrong, but I know the world doesn’t work like we want it to. I don’t like it, but that’s the way it is.
“And another thing,” Cheyenne says, clearly not done with her rant. “If they have the nerve to come here and arrest me for sleeping with a man, you better believe I’m not going without a fight. I’ll be like those suffragettes from the nineteen-hundreds. They’ll have to carry me out kicking and screaming. Give me liberty and a hot guy or give me death!”
I roll my eyes at her historical mistake. “That wasn’t the suffragettes who said that. That was Patrick Henry from Revolutionary War times, and I’m pretty sure he never included the hot guy part.”
Cheyenne waves away my correction. “Whatever. It’s the same idea. Just giving you fair warning. I’ll make them drag me out of here, a man on each limb with me telling them how wrong it is the whole time. They can take away our men, but they can’t take our freedom!” she yells, pushing her right fist high in the air.
The image of Cheyenne creating a scene that would make my sister and mother die of embarrassment flashes through my mind, and I can’t help but laugh. “Nice. Braveheart references. I’m sure William Wallace would relate to our plight.”
“I’m not kidding. I’ll do it.”
“Well, at least that will take the attention off of me. Right now, I’m the worse of the two of us since I was with the guy who was the owner of the escort service. You just went out with one of his guys. In the ranking of mistakes, mine’s far graver.”
My sister’s sags against the island and sighs as a frown makes the glee in her face from a moment ago drain away. “I’m sorry about getting you involved in all of this. I was just trying to help. I hope you know that.”
I take her hand and give it a sympathetic squeeze. “Don’t feel like you have to apologize. I’m happy I got involved with Cash and his business. I don’t regret a thing, just like you. And if we’re being honest, I slept with him and I don’t regret a second of that, to be sure.”
A smile brightens Cheyenne’s face. “Good. I am sorry for giving you such a hard time about him, though. That was wrong. You were happy, and I was being an overprotective bitch. I’m sorry, Savannah.”
“No apologies needed. You worry about me. That’s a good thing. He’s a good guy, though. Honest. I mean, other than the whole getting arrested thing. He makes me smile and he makes me remember what being twenty-seven feels like again.”
We fall into silence as the sounds of horns outside remind me the madness of what’s happened is mere yards away, no matter how much I wish it wasn’t. If only Cash would call me and let me know he’s okay. I’d understand if he couldn’t see me because of the trouble he’s in, but at least I’d be able to let him know I don’t hate him for lying to me.
“You know what?” Cheyenne says, interrupting my thoughts about Cash.
Shaking my head, I smile. “No, what? You plan on laying siege to the news trucks outside?”
“Don’t give me any ideas, but no. I was just going to say that I think Carson would like it that you found someone to make you happy.”
My chest tightens at the mention of my husband and what the press is probably going to do to his name and his memory with all of this. “You think he’d be okay with me being tied to an illegal escort service and having those people outside dying to hear all the scandalous details of my time with Cash?”
My sister screws her face into a scowl. “Are you done glossing over the dirty life your husband led before and during the time he was married to you? Because everyone who isn’t living in a dream world remembers. Carson was a great guy, but he was a cutthroat businessman who would eat weak people for lunch. I bet he’d be impressed with Cash and his idea of starting a business catering to single women looking for dates and romance and no commitment. I bet he’d pat him on the back and congratulate him for seeing a need and filling it.”
“No pun intended?” I say, barely able to control my giggles.
She rolls her eyes at my attempt to change the subject. “Maybe I intended that pun. Whatever. All I’m saying is Carson was a savvy businessman who didn’t always walk on the right side of the law, if I remember correctly. I’m thinking of that time when he was dealing with the Brazilian government and things required a little monetary persuasion, as he called it when he told us the story. That was a bribe, Savannah, and Carson wasn’t above doing that because he wanted that hotel to open, come hell or high water. I think you might just have a type, big sister. You go for the charming and debonair businessman who’s actually a criminal on the side.”
I wave away that absurd suggestion, but I have to admit both Carson and Cash do have one thing in common. Both of them had a way of making me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world and both made me feel like I was the most important person to them.
And just like with Carson, Cash made me fall in love with him, even though I didn’t think it could be possible to love again.
Maybe I do have a type after all.
Chapter Five
Cash
The crowd of reporters and spectators on the street outside my parents’ house make it impossible to get into the driveway. They rush toward the car, banging on the hood and the windows like crazy people, and I blast the horn to try and scare them away.
“And now for our lead story, the arrest of the owners of the escort service that’s been running right here in Gainesville for years, right under everyone’s noses. We’ve got team coverage on this breaking story starting with reporter Casey Grounder outside the home of Cassian March, one of the owners of the business. Casey, what else do we know?”
My mouth drops open when I see the front of my building right there on the TV screen in front of me. So much for thinking this isn’t really a big deal here.
The pretty brunette reporter with perfectly straight, white teeth flashes a grin that seems inappropriate for the big deal they’re making of this story. I know I should turn off the TV, but it’s like I can’t stop myself from hearing them talk about my problems.
“Sheila, I’m here in front of Cassian March’s apartment building where police arrested him last night here in the parking lot. He’s being charged with a variety of crimes, but the most serious is running an illegal escort service focused on women exclusively.”
I wait for her to flesh out that statement a little, but she stops talking and before my eyes, I see the men I’ve known for months, some for years, being paraded across my screen as they’re led into the police station today. Over the images, the reporter begins once again to explain our horrible crimes, but this time she gives a bit more color to the two ringleaders, as she calls us, Damon and me.
“The two owners, who police are calling ringleaders of this organization, are Cassian March IV and Damon Childress. Both men attended law school at the University of Florida right here in Gainesville, but both are dropouts, records show. Their business catered exclusively to women looking for male escorts, but authorities say the truth is they preyed on unsuspecting women.”
What the fuck is she talking about? Nobody was unsuspecting. The hoops we made them jump through just to find us, never mind the details we required before even considering pairing a client with one of our escorts, meant there wasn’t a chance in hell any of the women could be thought of as prey for us or unsuspecting in any way.
And just when I think it can’t get worse than being described as predators and seeing my employees perp walked in handcuffs into the police station downtown, the perky Casey hands over her coverage to another reporter who’s standing in front of a home I recognize immediately.
Savannah’s house.
“Casey, thanks. We’re here in front of the home of Savannah Gardener, the widow of the wildly successful hotel mogul Carson Gardener. Mrs. Gardener is one of the women caught up in Mr. March and Mr. Childress’s escort business.”
My eyes grow wide in horror when I see Savannah open her door and look out at the news crew with fear. Christ, she looks mortified.
Damnit, I never wanted this. None of this was ever supposed to happen.
Chapter Four
Savannah
“Mrs. Gardener, the police say they’re looking into charges for the women who hired the escort service. What do you have to say to that?” the blond reporter calls out from the street and then leans forward toward me, thrusting her microphone with her TV station’s logo as far as her arm can stretch.
I don’t say a word, merely shaking my head in disgust that every time I look out these vultures swoop in to ask me more questions. I want to say that this is a victimless crime. That what the escort service did for women like me was let them attend social functions without feeling like some kind of sad freak or outcast because they don’t date much and finding anyone to go to weddings with is difficult in the best circumstances.
My attorney has already warned me they’d try to scare me into saying something with threats of prosecution, but I’m not worried. I did nothing wrong. If the police in this town want to humiliate women just to show how prudish they are, then they can go ahead.
I have enough money to humiliate them right back.
“Honey, just close the door!” Cheyenne yells from the living room, frustrated I insist on actually seeing what these people are up to out here.
I slam it in their faces and march back through the house to the kitchen. When my husband was alive, we often had press wanting to speak to him. He was a powerful man and a successful hotel owner, so it wasn’t surprising.
They never acted like this, though. Then again, Cash isn’t like him.
Cassian March IV, more correctly. That sounds far more imposing than the name Cash. No wonder they keep using it like he’s some supervillain. And he lied about his last name. I guess I don’t have to ask why.
So the man I fell in love with wasn’t just some hired escort who ended up liking me. He’s the co-owner of the service. I wish he would have told me.
Cheyenne sits down at the island in front of me and clears her throat. “You’re getting lost in your head again, Savannah. Stop thinking about things. Trust me. It’s not going to make them any better.”
I grit my teeth so I don’t snap at her again this morning and turn around to get water from the refrigerator. “I’m not getting lost in my head.”
Behind me, she sighs. “You are, but it’s not a bad thing, per se. It’s just that I worry you’re going to get depressed when you realize everything that’s happening.”
I set the glass water pitcher on the counter between us and look directly into her eyes. “You mean like we’re going to be shunned because we dared to only want men to have on our arms for special occasions and not every day? Or do you mean the part about my falling for a man who wasn’t really an escort but a businessman the local press is making out to be some kind of Casanova law school drop out?”
My sister’s eyes open wide as I say what’s truly on my mind, but then a sly smile lights up her beautiful face. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you sound so strong, you know that?”
“Well, maybe I’m just tired of being a victim. We did nothing wrong. I think that’s something worth saying and saying with some strength.”
Cheyenne slides her hand over to touch mine and gives my fingers a gentle squeeze. “You really like him, don’t you? For what it’s worth, I think he might be good for you, Savannah.”
“I do, but it might all be a moot point anyway since I can’t seem to get in touch with him. I’ve tried three times already, but it always just goes to voicemail.”
“Honey, they probably took his phone off him. That’s how it always happens in the movies. They confiscate the bad guy’s phone and all his laptops to find out what evidence they can glean from them to use against him.”
Yanking my hand away, I pour myself a glass of water and correct her terminology. “Cash is not a bad guy. Don’t call him that.”
A sheepish look settles into her expression. “I didn’t mean it that way. I was just talking about what happens in movies when they bring someone in to arrest him. I’m guessing that’s why you can’t get in touch with him. That’s all.”
I push a glass of water over in front of her and try not to glare at her. “Fine, but don’t call him a bad guy again. We don’t know all the facts about any of this.”
“We know he ran an escort service the two of us used. At least we can say we know that.”
She seems to want to discuss this, but I don’t. I don’t care about the legality of what Cash and his partner did. Nobody got hurt. They provided a service women like us asked for, and if I hear that idiotic woman on the news call us “unsuspecting women” one more time, I’m going to scream.
My cell phone rings for the first time today, and I excitedly look to see who’s calling, hoping it’s Cash. It isn’t, sadly. Instead, I see the one name I definitely didn’t want to see this morning.
Cecile.
I hold up the phone to show Cheyenne the name. Instantly, horror fills her eyes.
“Don’t answer it!” she says, practically pleading with me to not talk to our older sister right now. “You know she’s going to be a nightmare about this.”
Nodding, I swipe to answer it anyway. “Hello, Cecile. How are you this morning?”
And with that, I put the call on speaker and set my phone on the countertop between Cheyenne and me. Like I suspect, it takes about two nanoseconds for our older sister to start her nonsense.
“How am I? Utterly humiliated is how I am. How could you do this, Savannah? You brought that man around our family. Our family! Have you no respect for us or yourself?”
“He wasn’t infected with a communicable disease, Cecile. The man simply ran a business. Stop overreacting.”
She stammers out a few unintelligible words that sound like some kind of prayer for someone to come save us all from damnation or something like that and then says, “This is so utterly embarrassing, Savannah. I had no idea you were so desperate as to hire a man to pretend to be your date. I don’t know how I’m going to ever show my face again at the club.”
My feelings are instantly hurt, but even more, I’m angry at her attack on me, so I don’t hold back when I answer. “You mean the club where I’d bet at least some of the women have hired men from Cash’s escort business? That club? Don’t kid yourself, Cecile. I wasn’t desperate. I simply didn’t want to get involved in a relationship and this made it easy for me to attend things like Spencer’s wedding so I wasn’t a sitting duck who would have to tolerate all your comments about my being single.”
I barely finish when Cheyenne leans forward and says into the phone, “And you can add me to the list of women who used that service too, Cecile. That guy Nico who was my date for the wedding? An escort. And that wasn’t the first time I’ve used them either. So get off your high horse and try living in the twenty-first century where women don’t have to be married if they don’t want to be.”
She’s so sassy, which is nothing new for my younger sister, but this time I’m right there with her. “Right. So just keep your talk of humiliation and anything else you want to say today to yourself. We’re fine, so thank you for calling. Since I’m sure Mom and Spencer plan on doing the same thing you just did, tell them they don’t have to. Feel free to give them the Cliffs Notes version of what we said, though. That way everyone can be up to speed.”
And with that, I press END and that’s the last I want to hear from my family about this matter.
Cheyenne jumps off the barstool and throws her hands up in the air. “That was the best thing ever! I never knew you could be such a badass, Savannah.”
Now that all those sassy words came out of my own mouth, I have to admit I’m a little shocked. “I didn’t know either, to be honest.”
“I like this new you,” she squeals, pointing at me like I’m something amazing. “I definitely like it.”
With a heavy exhale, I let the air out of my lungs and try to calm myself. “I’ve never spoken to anyone like that. Cecile is probably thinking I’ve lost my mind. You know what? I don’t care. Let her think whatever she wants.”
“She’s just a stick in the mud anyway, so forget her. I’m still not convinced Mom didn’t have an affair with some cool mailman to have you and me because Cecile and Spencer are the world’s two biggest flat tires.”
I smile like I feel as confident as she does, but I can’t help but hate that our family is embarrassed by us. Why do they have to be so uptight? What crime is it to want to have someone to go to family events with like Cheyenne and I did with Nico and Cash?
“Don’t worry, Savannah. I see it written all over your face. You’re worried Mom and Dad are going to be angry with you. Trust me. This will all blow over. I won’t let you deal with it alone, though. Nico and all those other guys I spent time with from Cash’s escort service were some of the best dates I’ve ever had. They wanted me to be happy, and I got exactly what I wanted. Plus, that Nico was an okay guy and a fantastic lay.”
My mouth drops open in shock. “You slept with him?”
Cheyenne tilts her chin up proudly. “Of course, I did. You saw him. I would have been crazy not to. He’s gorgeous with a body to die for. It was the best part of the day, and I regret nothing.”
I burst out in nervous laughter at my sister’s admission. If only I could be as badass as she is. “He really was gorgeous. Good for you. I’m glad you had a good time. Too bad the poor guy was arrested.”
“For making women happy! Leave it to this place to be so damn provincial,” she says before sitting down on her barstool again. “What kind of world is it we live in when putting a smile on a woman’s face is a crime? Seriously, you’d swear the guy was a serial killer or something. It’s ridiculous. The cops should be spending their time on real crimes and leave guys like Nico and Cash alone.”
None of what she says is wrong, but I know the world doesn’t work like we want it to. I don’t like it, but that’s the way it is.
“And another thing,” Cheyenne says, clearly not done with her rant. “If they have the nerve to come here and arrest me for sleeping with a man, you better believe I’m not going without a fight. I’ll be like those suffragettes from the nineteen-hundreds. They’ll have to carry me out kicking and screaming. Give me liberty and a hot guy or give me death!”
I roll my eyes at her historical mistake. “That wasn’t the suffragettes who said that. That was Patrick Henry from Revolutionary War times, and I’m pretty sure he never included the hot guy part.”
Cheyenne waves away my correction. “Whatever. It’s the same idea. Just giving you fair warning. I’ll make them drag me out of here, a man on each limb with me telling them how wrong it is the whole time. They can take away our men, but they can’t take our freedom!” she yells, pushing her right fist high in the air.
The image of Cheyenne creating a scene that would make my sister and mother die of embarrassment flashes through my mind, and I can’t help but laugh. “Nice. Braveheart references. I’m sure William Wallace would relate to our plight.”
“I’m not kidding. I’ll do it.”
“Well, at least that will take the attention off of me. Right now, I’m the worse of the two of us since I was with the guy who was the owner of the escort service. You just went out with one of his guys. In the ranking of mistakes, mine’s far graver.”
My sister’s sags against the island and sighs as a frown makes the glee in her face from a moment ago drain away. “I’m sorry about getting you involved in all of this. I was just trying to help. I hope you know that.”
I take her hand and give it a sympathetic squeeze. “Don’t feel like you have to apologize. I’m happy I got involved with Cash and his business. I don’t regret a thing, just like you. And if we’re being honest, I slept with him and I don’t regret a second of that, to be sure.”
A smile brightens Cheyenne’s face. “Good. I am sorry for giving you such a hard time about him, though. That was wrong. You were happy, and I was being an overprotective bitch. I’m sorry, Savannah.”
“No apologies needed. You worry about me. That’s a good thing. He’s a good guy, though. Honest. I mean, other than the whole getting arrested thing. He makes me smile and he makes me remember what being twenty-seven feels like again.”
We fall into silence as the sounds of horns outside remind me the madness of what’s happened is mere yards away, no matter how much I wish it wasn’t. If only Cash would call me and let me know he’s okay. I’d understand if he couldn’t see me because of the trouble he’s in, but at least I’d be able to let him know I don’t hate him for lying to me.
“You know what?” Cheyenne says, interrupting my thoughts about Cash.
Shaking my head, I smile. “No, what? You plan on laying siege to the news trucks outside?”
“Don’t give me any ideas, but no. I was just going to say that I think Carson would like it that you found someone to make you happy.”
My chest tightens at the mention of my husband and what the press is probably going to do to his name and his memory with all of this. “You think he’d be okay with me being tied to an illegal escort service and having those people outside dying to hear all the scandalous details of my time with Cash?”
My sister screws her face into a scowl. “Are you done glossing over the dirty life your husband led before and during the time he was married to you? Because everyone who isn’t living in a dream world remembers. Carson was a great guy, but he was a cutthroat businessman who would eat weak people for lunch. I bet he’d be impressed with Cash and his idea of starting a business catering to single women looking for dates and romance and no commitment. I bet he’d pat him on the back and congratulate him for seeing a need and filling it.”
“No pun intended?” I say, barely able to control my giggles.
She rolls her eyes at my attempt to change the subject. “Maybe I intended that pun. Whatever. All I’m saying is Carson was a savvy businessman who didn’t always walk on the right side of the law, if I remember correctly. I’m thinking of that time when he was dealing with the Brazilian government and things required a little monetary persuasion, as he called it when he told us the story. That was a bribe, Savannah, and Carson wasn’t above doing that because he wanted that hotel to open, come hell or high water. I think you might just have a type, big sister. You go for the charming and debonair businessman who’s actually a criminal on the side.”
I wave away that absurd suggestion, but I have to admit both Carson and Cash do have one thing in common. Both of them had a way of making me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world and both made me feel like I was the most important person to them.
And just like with Carson, Cash made me fall in love with him, even though I didn’t think it could be possible to love again.
Maybe I do have a type after all.
Chapter Five
Cash
The crowd of reporters and spectators on the street outside my parents’ house make it impossible to get into the driveway. They rush toward the car, banging on the hood and the windows like crazy people, and I blast the horn to try and scare them away.
