Ravenous (NeXt Book 3), page 5
“Good to meet you, Cheyenne.”
As she shakes my hand, she rolls her eyes and says, “Sorry about Cecile. She’s a royal bitch, but she’s family so we have to deal with her. Everyone, this is Nico. He’s probably horrified by that little show our sister put on, so why don’t we go inside and find the bar? I definitely need a drink.”
When the two of them walk away, Anna sighs and looks over at me. “You’re probably thinking you should be getting paid twice your rate for this, I bet. I don’t blame you. This is why I hate weddings.”
“As long as we’re sitting with your younger sister and not your older sister, I think we’ll be fine. The singles’ table is usually the best in the house.”
Not exactly the way I thought this job would go, but so far, at least it hasn’t been boring.
Chapter Seven
Savannah
By the time we finish our dinner, I know I have to admit the truth about what my real name is to Cash. I didn’t think things through when I lied on the phone initially, and since we’ve been sitting at a table for the past hour with a place card that has my real name written on it in bold black ink, I can’t keep pretending I’m some woman named Anna.
When everyone around us heads out onto the dance floor, I take a deep breath and finally turn toward him to make my confession. “I guess you know my name isn’t Anna.”
Cash gives me a sly smile and glances over at the place card. “The choice was either that you got it wrong or they did.”
“I didn’t think it through when I said my name was Anna. I’ve never done this before. I guess it’s pretty obvious I’ll never be a criminal mastermind.”
“It’s okay. You didn’t exactly lie since Anna is technically part of your name. Savannah is a nice name too, though.”
Hanging my head in humiliation, I mumble, “Thanks. It’s a family name.”
A family name from a family full of people I wish I didn’t have to see at this moment. So far, my sister Cecile has come over twice to rudely give her opinion on my dress and how I’m wearing my hair, and my mother have ventured over to the table to simply stare at Cash and Nico, likely amazed her two youngest daughters aren’t sitting alone trying to drink themselves into oblivion.
I should have found a way to avoid this day. Cash is nice enough, which is a blessing because if he wasn’t, this would be a complete nightmare, but I feel ridiculous. Everyone here thinks I’m with him, and all I can think is I’m betraying my husband.
God, I’m pathetic.
It would be one thing if I was out of my mind and couldn’t grasp the reality that Carson is gone. I’m not insane, though. In fact, I know all too well that my husband died two years ago and since then I’ve made myself practically a hermit. Crazy people at least have an excuse to be pathetic. They’re crazy.
I’m just sad.
“Would you like to dance?” he asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
Torn with how guilty I feel for being here today with anyone, not just Cash, and wishing I wouldn’t feel this way, I take a deep breath and nod. “That might be nice. Thank you.”
As we walk out to the dance floor, he says quietly, “I thought a slow song might be better.”
Slow song. Fast song. It doesn’t matter. Anything to take me out of my own head so I don’t think about how wrong this all feels.
I don’t recognize the song, but it seems many of the guests do, because the dance floor gets crowded. That’s a good thing because if it was just the two of us out here, it would feel like we were on display.
It doesn’t take long to see Cash knows how to dance. Smiling, I look up at him as he turns me away from my mother and Cecile standing on the edge of the dance floor.
“I’m afraid I’m not as good at this as you are, so if I step on your toes, please forgive me.”
With a nod, he smiles back at me. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you how I learned how to dance. By the way, I think your mother and sister are trying to get their husbands out here, so be prepared.”
Looking around, I see Cecile tugging on her husband Jacob’s arm trying to pry him away from the bar on this side of the room. I know my brother-in-law, and he has no intention of dancing. He attends these things solely for the alcohol, and my sister knows that too. If she thinks she’s going to change him now after ten years of marriage, she’s out of her mind.
As for my father, while he might give in to my mother, he’s busy playing the mayor of the reception, glad-handing everyone he sees come near his table. That’s his style, though. My father loves to put his arms around you and pull you close while he tells some stupid joke or brags about his golf game. If he comes out to dance, I suspect it would be only to talk to other people and not to spend time with my mother, which he assiduously avoids at all times.
Turning back to face Cash, I shake my head. “I think we’re safe. Jacob and my father have other goals for this reception than to spy on me. My brother-in-law and I haven’t said more than a polite hello and goodbye in the decade he’s been part of the family, so he doesn’t care one whit what I’m doing, and my father is the type of dad who doesn’t want to think of his daughters with anyone. It’s like I’m perpetually stuck being eight years old in my father’s eyes.”
Before he gets the chance to change the subject away from how he learned how to dance, I add, “So tell me the story of who taught you to dance so well. Mother or sister? I’m guessing sister.”
That makes him laugh. “Neither. I don’t have any sisters, and my mother doesn’t really dance. It was one of my aunts. Abbi, my Uncle Kane’s wife. I was in eighth grade and there was a big dance at my school. I had the biggest crush on a girl named Kasey. Kasey and Cash. Looking back, I can see it was doomed just because of our names.”
“That sounds adorable. Kasey and Cash. You must have been too cute together,” I say as he slowly turns me toward the other side of the dance floor where Cheyenne and her date seem to be getting quite cozy with one another.
“She was adorable. I wanted so much to be manly, but I didn’t know how to dance and I knew there would be at least one slow dance that night. I didn’t want to blow it, so I told my parents and they shipped me over to my aunt and uncle’s house.”
“So is your aunt a dancer?”
Cash’s expression twists into one that looks like he doesn’t want to tell me the truth, so I quickly say, “It’s okay. If you don’t want to tell me because that’s not what happens with what you do, that’s fine.”
Shaking his head, his frown disappears. “Oh, no. It’s not that. It’s just…how can I phrase this correctly? She was a dancer, but not the type your family would appreciate.”
I feel my cheeks heat up and know I’m blushing, even though he didn’t say anything even close to risqué. Quickly, I try to show him I’m not as prudish as my face seems to indicate.
“That sounds so exciting. Please don’t take my blushing as a sign you offended me. It must be so cool to know someone who was that free that she had the confidence to dance like that.”
“My aunt is sweet, and to look at her, you’d never guess she did that. It was only for a short time, but she was the one who taught me to dance. Kasey and I ended up having that one slow dance, and then she never talked to me again.”
A laugh threatens to escape from me as I listen to the end of his story and watch him practically pout as he recalls that night. I bury my head in his shoulder to hide how funny he looks now years later as he tells it, not wanting to offend him.
“I’m sorry. I’m sure you were heartbroken back then.”
I lift my head and see him smiling down at me. “I was, but I’ve recovered. I’m just glad I got you to laugh with that story. If I knew that’s what it took, I would have started telling you stories of my many teenage heartbreaks hours ago.”
“Well, since you made me smile, why don’t I tell you about my family so you can get a good laugh?” Tapping on the front of his shoulder, I say, “Behind you, left side, is my Aunt Linda. She’s my father’s sister, and she and my mother have this thing that when they get together, they seem like they’re being nice, but if you listen carefully and watch what their eyes do, you know there’s nothing good happening.”
Cash glances over his left shoulder at my aunt with her hair up in a bun on the top of her head that looks like someone placed a big blond doughnut up there. Dressed in a red gown that’s intended to highlight her breast implants, she reminds me of some country singer wannabe.
He looks back at me and opens his eyes wide. “No missing her, I guess. So what do they say to one another?”
I think back to the last time I got to witness the spectacle of my aunt and mother together. The time when she announced she was adding a boob job to her list of plastic surgery.
“Well, when she turned fifty, my aunt decided that she needed a tune up. That’s what she called it. A tune up. What that meant was she was going to get a tummy tuck and some liposuction. When she mentioned it around all of us, my mother said, ‘Well, that’s lovely, Linda. It seems truly appropriate after years of trying to change your body with exercise.’ You could hear a pin drop when the last word came out of her mouth.”
Cash looks down at me, his own mouth hanging open at that part of the story like all of us looked that day at my mother’s house. “What did your aunt say?”
Giggling, I explain, “No kidding, she didn’t miss a beat. Turning to look at my mother, she said, ‘Well, Karen, it’s no crime to want to improve yourself. You should try it. I’m sure my brother would appreciate it greatly.’ And again, there was nothing but complete and utter silence. You could cut the tension around us with a knife. And you know what? They never stopped smiling, the two of them, the whole time.”
“I guess the knives come out when those two ladies are around,” he says with a chuckle.
“So you see, I’m thinking my family is worse than yours.”
The slow song winds down and some typical wedding reception song that involves a silly dance comes on, so we walk back to the table as he tries to convince me my family is about the same as his. “We don’t have anything like your aunt and mother in my family, but I can tell you that I heard stories about two of my aunts not talking for a while back before all the kids came along. My father talks about that like it was some kind of Middle East peace summit that had to be brokered.”
When we get to the table, no one else has returned, so it’s just Cash and me. “Well, all I know is families can be a lot to handle,” I say, happy this reception is almost over, even as I have to admit I’m having a good time with him.
“No doubt, but can you really imagine your life without them?”
Just then, my sister Cecile pops up out of nowhere and sits down next to me. Before I turn to face her, I whisper to Cash, “I can imagine my life without some of them, yes.”
I scan the room for Cheyenne, desperate for her unique brand of sass at this moment since I have a feeling Cecile is about to pry into my business and I never have a snappy comeback for her when she does that. My younger sister is nowhere to be found, though, so I’m on my own, I guess.
“Are you having a good time, Cecile?” I ask, hoping to charm her into being nice. Or at least nicer than her usual self.
Completely ignoring my well-meaning question, she asks one of her own. “Don’t you hate dancing? I saw you out there with your friend here, but I always thought you hated to dance. You used to say that whenever any of us asked why you and Carson weren’t out on the dance floor like we wanted you to be.”
I sheepishly look over at Cash, hoping he doesn’t think I hated to dance with him. Why does my sister have to be so nasty all the time? Couldn’t she just dial it back for one afternoon?
“I don’t hate dancing,” I answer quietly, dreading the rest of the answer I know I have to give to stop her from talking about this subject. “Carson didn’t like to dance because he didn’t think he was very good at it, so I didn’t press the issue.”
She smiles like anything I said should please her, and for a moment, I can’t help but think she looks like the Joker from the Batman movies with her red colored lips turned up into a vicious grin. God, where is Cheyenne?
“Well, there you go. I thought he was always perfect, but now the truth comes out. He was just a mortal man like the rest of us have.”
My sister’s jealousy regarding our husbands has never been a secret she’s tried to keep under wraps. I know that, yet still to hear her talk about a dead man like she gets some kind of glee from knowing he had flaws makes responding to her impossible. The words get stuck in my throat, and nothing comes out.
From my right, Cash leans over and clears his throat before saying, “You know, I think a man who was wildly successful in the hotel business, along with having a beautiful wife and a gorgeous home can afford to have a few imperfections. I’m sure Savannah would put Carson up against any of the men in this room and still come out on top.”
For a few seconds, my sister doesn’t say a word and I’m not even sure I heard Cash correctly. She huffs out her disgust at his comment and storms away in her usual style, sure to return with more cruelty another time.
But for now, I can’t express how much I appreciate what Cash said to her.
“Thank you. You have no idea how much I wish I could say things like that when she’s so mean. I know I should just ignore her when she’s being petty, but I can’t. The problem is I can’t respond the way you did either.”
“Sounds like a case of jealousy to me. I’m sure she’s going to be hating me now too, but that’s okay. I’m glad I could help there.”
I want to say so much more, but instead I just look into his blue eyes and hope he understands how much what he said meant to me. He really is a gorgeous man, inside and out.
Cheyenne returns to the table with Nico and drops a bag of candy in front of me. “Cecile just left, so of course, you need something sweet to wipe away the taste of her words,” she says with a smile.
“Thanks, but I think I need to find the ladies’ room. Why don’t you come for a walk with me and Cash and Nico can talk about man stuff?” I say as I stand from the table.
Cheyenne and I have had that code since we were girls, so she knows I don’t really need to visit the ladies’ room. What I need to do is talk to her, and she picks up on my hint instantly.
“Time for us to go powder our noses, gentlemen. Be right back!” she announces before giving Nico’s bicep a squeeze.
We have to wait for two older women to finish before we have the bathroom to ourselves, and when they finally leave, I turn to Cheyenne practically beaming. “This was such a good idea. Thank you for suggesting I call that number. Cash has been really great today.”
My sister bites her lip and smiles. “Nico is the best money I’ve spent in a long time. I can’t stop touching him. He’s so fine. I got very lucky when they sent me him. I think half the women in this place are jealous of me, and the other half are jealous of you because of Cash.”
“Cecile came over a few minutes ago and started in on how Carson wasn’t perfect after all because he couldn’t dance well. She’s so awful.”
Cheyenne rolls her eyes while she checks her makeup in the mirror. “The word you’re looking for is bitch, Savannah. I swear, I don’t know how we’re related to her, you know that? Did Mom have an affair with the mailman to get us?”
I watch her fix her mascara, eager to tell her that this time our older sister didn’t just get to have her say and stroll away like always. “But Cash snapped right back at her. You should have heard him. He said that Carson had such a great life that he could afford to have a few flaws. Well, it wasn’t exactly that. I’m paraphrasing. But that was the sentiment, and Cecile had nothing to say back to him. He shut her up completely. It was so great!”
Finished with her face and hair, she turns to look at me and pushes a stray hair that’s escaped from my bun. “That’s terrific. It’s about time we all started doing that to her. She’s such a bitch.”
“He really was fantastic. I was looking for you the minute I realized she was coming my way, but he handled her. Even Carson never handled Cecile like that.”
Cheyenne tilts her head and stares at me for a long moment. “That’s because Carson thought she was beneath him and you. He’d never deign to bother with her. Savannah, I want you to be careful not to get attached to Cash. I know he handled Cecile, which you know I approve of wholeheartedly, but he’s paid to be here. He’s not a real boyfriend, honey.”
Embarrassed my younger sister feels like she has to remind me of that fact, I lower my head to avoid her intense gaze. “I know. I just really liked how he handled her.”
“Well, that’s good. Then he’s an escort who’s earned his money. Nothing more. Now let’s get back to the table before one of those bridesmaids of Daria’s steals my guy away. He’s mine to touch for tonight.”
I watch Cheyenne flash her reflection a smile before walking out of the ladies’ room and know she’s right. I can’t let myself get attached to Cash. It’s just that I’ve been alone for so long that it’s nice to be around someone who likes me and stands up for me with Cecile.
Then again, he’s paid to act like he likes me. He is an escort, after all.
Chapter Eight
Cash
After a long day of wearing a tux and pretending not to hate weddings as much as I truly do, I set my feet up on the ottoman and close my eyes, happy to be back in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt to relax. The next time I think I should go out on a job instead of making sure someone else takes it, I need to remember how my feet felt in those shoes for all those hours.
I stretch my arms above my head and try to work the day out of my muscles. If you don’t think too much about them, weddings seem like a nice thing, but when you’re working one dressed in a tux and forced to be around people you don’t know from a can of paint, they’re much harder than they appear on the surface.
