When I tried to click on one of the videos, a pop up box came up saying that if I wanted to watch the full video, I would need to become a member, and spelling out the different membership options.
I glanced at Abby and then typed Carson's name into the site search bar. Immediately, a page loaded and I let out a tiny gasp. There were stills of Carson actively ha**ng s*x with different women in multiple screen shots. My brain couldn't keep up with my eyes as I let out a small, choked sob and Abby squeezed my hand, saying "Let's turn this off, honey…"
"No, not yet," I said, my voice sounding very far away to my own ears. I needed to see this. I needed to see the truth of what he did.
"Gracie, these are things he did before he even met you," she said quietly.
"These ones are, Abby, but if I come back here and look next month, there will be a new one, maybe two," I said miserably.
Abby squeezed my hand. "You won't do that though right, hon?"
I shook my head. "No, just this once. I just need to remind myself why I can't contact him. Why I have to let him go."
She shook her head sadly and we both looked at the photos in silence for a minute.
"Holy hell, sweetie, you were right, he's hot."
I looked at her, my brows snapping down.
"Sorry, not helpful," she muttered, looking back at the screen.
As I too looked back at the photos, feeling simultaneously empty and sickened, it registered that the look on his face was… wrong. It was… it was the same look I had seen on his face in the lobby of the Bellagio when we first met and then again at the bar. It wasn't the look that had been on his face when he was with me in bed. He had his mask on in these pictures. But it was little comfort. I felt the vomit rise up my throat, and I stumbled off the bed and ran to the bathroom just in time to lose my lunch.
**********
Carson
Shit, this was gonna suck. I took a deep breath and pulled the door open. Irene, Courtney's elderly receptionist looked up from her computer screen. "Hey, Carson." She smiled. I smiled back warily. Well, at least her reaction to me wasn't calling security like I thought it might be.
"Hey Irene. Courtney in?" I leaned on her desk and she batted her lashes up at me. I usually flirted with her when I came in. I just didn't have it in me this time.
Irene furrowed her brow. "She is, hon. Do you have an appointment with her?" She started flipping through her book. "I don't see–"
"No, Irene, I don't. I'm actually–"
"Carson."
I looked up and Courtney was standing in the doorway of her office, in a gray skirt and a light pink blouse, her black hair hanging straight and long down her back, her face expressionless. Shit.
"Courtney, hi." I walked toward her. "I'm sorry, I haven't called you and I didn't make an appointment, I just–"
"Carson, come on into my office."
I followed along behind her, like a kid who had been called to the principal's office, a kid who knew he was guilty and deserved exactly what he was about to get. After the way things had gone with Tim, I was not hopeful that this meeting would go well. Again, this was gonna suck.
Courtney sat down behind her desk and I took the chair in front of it. As I opened my mouth to speak, Irene's voice said behind me, "Can I get some coffee? Tea?"
Courtney raised her eyebrows at me. "No, not for me," I answered her silent question.
"No, Irene, we're good, thanks," Courtney said and I heard the door close quietly behind us.
Courtney leaned back in her chair, steepling her fingers and studying me quietly. "What happened, Carson?" she asked.
I let out a breath. "I'm done, Courtney. I'm sorry. I know it wasn't the professional way to do it. You've been good to me and I really do hate that I'm ending things this way between us."
She was silent for a minute. "You cost me a lot of money that day, Carson."
I took a deep breath. "Yeah, I know. That's part of the reason why I'm here." I reached into my pocket and removed my wallet and took the check out of the billfold. "I sold my car. I had them make out a cashier's check and I signed it over to you. I don't know if it's enough to cover all the expenses of the shoot, and I know it's not enough to cover what you would have made off of the video itself, but I hope it's a start, and I can make payments for the–"
Courtney sighed. "First, tell me what happened to spur you running out of that suite half-dressed?"
I looked down at the check in my hands and set it on the edge of her desk.
I looked away for a minute, finally making a half-laughing/half-choking sound in my throat, and ending it on a sigh. I liked Courtney. She'd always been good to me, always been someone I felt like I could trust in a business full of untrustworthy people. "I met someone, Court," I said softly.
She studied me, her expression softening. "Ah, you fell in love. Well, that'll sometimes do it."
"No, not exactly. I only spent a weekend with her, but–"
"Carson, you fell in love. I see it in your eyes."
I shook my head. "No, really, two and a half days, Courtney. I've just never felt that way about anyone. We–"
She studied me again and I could practically see the wheels turning in her head. She let out a deep breath. "Love doesn't always make sense. And that's the great beauty of it, the great mystery–the thing cynics who scoff at so-called 'insta-love' would bottle if they could. But you can't manufacture mystery, honey. Believe me, I know."