Now, in addition to all my worries and concerns about the house and Gavin and the library, I added Cooper to the list. If I didn’t sort things out, and soon, I was going to give myself an ulcer. But I had no time to worry about that.
By the time afternoon came, I was slipping into my dress and fussing with my hair, getting ready for another night with the man who should have been my perfect match.
When Cooper arrived, things went as smoothly as they had during our last date. We fell into easy conversation—the scene with Gavin ignored but not forgotten—and time flew as we headed to the party. Cooper really was sweet and sexy all rolled into one captivating package. In many ways, I knew he would be perfect for me, but the more I realized that, the more I craved the intense connection I shared with the dominating and enigmatic Gavin. The thought made my stomach twist, and not in the butterfly way.
Soon, the limo was dropping us off on the charming Newbury Street in front of the art gallery. There were only a dozen people or so in the small gallery space enjoying wine and cheese.
“Are we early?” I asked.
Cooper chuckled in response and led me through the doorway.
“Good evening, Mr. Kingsley.” A woman wearing all black with a short blond bob walked eagerly toward Cooper and completely ignored me. I could almost see the dollar signs in her eyes. Cooper gave her his most charming smile.
“Right this way, please.” The woman led us behind a curtain to a back room with a spiral staircase. “They’re all down there.”
“After you, princess,” Cooper said, blowing a kiss in the blonde’s direction as a thank-you.
“Former fling of yours?” I raised my eyebrows as we descended the staircase into the darkness below.
Cooper laughed. “She’s gay. No worries, I’m all yours.”
Another twinge of guilt coursed through me, but I ignored it as we stepped into the dimly lit basement of the gallery. My eyes began to adjust and two dozen or more faces appeared in the semi-darkness.
Most of the guests were well-dressed men in expensive tailored suits, though a few were women in dresses as fancy as my own. Not one of the women looked a day older than thirty.
Are these all escorts? Does everyone here know that I’m an escort?
Thinking of myself as an escort was still strange. It felt much more like a friendly outing, beside the fact, of course, that he was paying me to be here.
“Can I get you a drink?” Cooper asked.
“Yes, please.” Tonight, I could use the break from my own thoughts.
Cooper headed to a small table in the corner and grabbed two small glasses of clear liquid, each with what appeared to be a slice of pickle at the bottom. My nostrils burned at the smell.
“Is this vodka?” I wrinkled my nose.
Cooper nodded. “With a pickle back.” He drank the shot quickly and then set his glass on the table between us.
I exhaled sharply and followed his lead, only to come up coughing at the intense flavor of pure alcohol.
Cooper laughed and took the glass from me. “You okay?”
A tall, silver-haired man approached us. “Cooper Kingsley?”
“Bruce, great to see you.”
The men exchanged a firm handshake.
“And who is this beauty?” Bruce asked him, eying me up and down greedily. “When can I take you out, gorgeous?”
“This is Emma, my girlfriend. Sorry, Bruce. Can you grab us a couple more drinks, babe?”
Cooper smiled at me sweetly. I nodded and left the pair of men who huddled to talk in a low whisper.
The table was filled with more of the vodka-and-pickle drinks. I grabbed another and downed it before bringing two back over to Cooper, who stood talking to another man. I watched the sly passing of the business cards as I brought back the drinks.
“Tying one on tonight?” Cooper said as I handed him the drink. He raised his glass to clink it against mine, and we drained our drinks.
“These grow on you.” I was already slurring and Cooper chuckled, placing his hand around my waist and pulling me close to him. He felt so much like Gavin, and smelled like him too. I thought drinking was supposed to get your mind off of things.
“So, I’m your girlfriend now, huh? This is news to me.” I raised my eyebrows at him.
“It’s easier than explaining that Gavin and I share you as our own private escort, right?” Cooper grinned, clearly pleased with himself.
I nodded. “Another drink?”
His eyes went wide as a mischievous smile tugged at his lips and his dimple flashed. “You’ve got it.”
Soon, he returned with two more glasses, and I downed the liquid quickly again. I no longer needed to cough at the taste. The heat of the alcohol raced through me.
“Should we look at the art for a little while?” he asked.
“Where is it?” I looked around the dim room again, but there wasn’t anything hanging on the walls.
“This way.” Cooper led me toward the end of the room where a crowd was standing in front of what must have been the art. I looked at it, but only vaguely as my vision had started to blur a little. Another few minutes passed, and I realized with a snort-laugh that was beginning to lose my balance in my high heels.
“Are you tipping the room to the side?” I demanded in a stage whisper, closing one eye as I tried to get Cooper back into focus.
He caught me by the elbow as I stumbled and chuckled. “I see we have ourselves a lightweight. Okay, princess, I think we need to get you out of here.”
A poorly timed hiccup made him chuckle again and had me grinning along with him.
Cooper. Easy-peasy Cooper. No drama. No fear or shame. It was . . . nice. Just like him.
I sighed and nestled closer as he took out his phone and typed out a quick message. His screen pinged back almost instantly.
“All right, the limo’s out front.”
Cooper followed me up the stairs, one hand on my back steadying me. He was probably getting an eyeful of my ass or the bare skin of the backless dress he’d picked out for me, but I couldn’t find it in me to mind. He held me close to him as I stumbled toward the door, feeling the effects of the vodka more intensely as we stepped into the light.
By the time we got in the limo, I was in a haze. The swaying of the car wasn’t helping. Cooper led me out when we stopped, and I looked around to see he hadn’t taken me home.
“Where are we?”
“My place in Cambridge.” Cooper shot me a sweet half smile and continued. “I’m going to take care of you, get you sobered up before I can take you home in good conscience. Wanted to make sure you were going to be okay, princess. You had three shots in a short time, and that was on my watch. I didn’t realize how hard it would hit you.”
I nodded, my alcohol-soaked brain taking in the massive ornate building.
“Good evening, Mr. Kingsley.” A man in a red-and-gold bellhop uniform greeted us as we moved toward the elevator.
Cooper pressed the button for the top floor, number fifteen. The elevator rose fast, and I stumbled again. Cooper caught me, holding me close during the ride up. Soon, the doors opened into a small vestibule containing a single door.
I tried to keep steady and hold on to my thoughts, the ones swirling around madly, telling me this was nuts. That I should turn around and go home before something happened I might regret. But I couldn’t seem to catch hold of a single one.
“I think I need a hot shower and some coffee,” I mumbled.
The next second, Cooper swept me into his house and I went, closing the door behind me, the click echoing like a shot.
Chapter Seventeen
Cooper
“How are you feeling?” I helped Emma through the front door and held her forearm as she slipped off her high heels.
“Mmm, good.” She nodded more eagerly than necessary, like she was trying hard to convince me. I knew she was drunk, and I felt bad for introducing her to my favorite vodka. “It’s freezing in here, though.” She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering in her pretty emerald lace dress.
“Yeah. Sorry about that.” Every woman I’d ever brought home complained about the exact same thing. It appeared the fairer sex didn’t appreciate my fondness for sixty-six-degree air-conditioning. It was a luxury I grew up without, and I now tended to overindulge. “Hang tight. I’ll get you a sweatshirt.”