bit of money. The walls of the cavernous room are done in rich wood paneling with dark parquet underneath and silk rugs scattered under the furniture. Large, deeply cushioned chairs of mocha-colored leather are clustered in groups with small tables in between. It’s a man’s room for sure, with not a single feminine touch to be seen.
I casually wind my way through the party guests and stand against a wall that is covered in prints of various golf courses, as well as other golf memorabilia. Sipping at my champagne, I focus my attention on two men playing a game of pool and settle in to wait for Beck to finish up with his dad. I have no doubt that as soon as he’s done he’ll come looking for me and will eventually find me down here.
“Enjoying the party?” I hear from my left and recognize the voice instantly. Because I don’t need to act the part, and because it comes very naturally to me, I turn with cold eyes toward JT as he stands next to me. He’s got a glass of a dark-colored liquor in one hand and his other hand tucked causally in his pocket.
He’s stares down at me with superiority and amusement, no doubt enjoying his memory of the conversation he had with Beck a few days ago whereby he encouraged Beck to put the brakes on with me. Knowing this man doesn’t think very much of me based on the circumstances of my birth, that he’s pushing his friend away from a chance at real happiness, and let’s not forget that he drugged and raped me, leads me to shut down this nasty conversation before it begins.
“Can’t say this is really my speed,” I tell him with a slight shrug of my shoulders. My eyes glance around the room before coming back to him. “You know . . . not for a girl from Belle Haven.”
“Exactly,” he says in what sounds like a polite voice but that’s really just to hide his rude declaration that I’m not good enough for this crowd.
This actually amuses me, that he feels the need to tear me down. It also gives me an important piece of information. He’s still very worried about my connection with Beck and feels threatened by it.
“But as long as you remember the true role of a Sugar Baby,” JT says casually as his gaze flicks from mine to the action on the pool table. He stares at it pensively before continuing, “you should be fine.
“And what role would that be?” I ask sweetly.
“That the arrangement with Beck is temporary and it’s a services-only arrangement. You fuck him, he gives you money. It’s quite simple, really.”
I blink at him, unsure of what to say. Every fiber of my being wants to tell him off and make him understand how close Beck and I truly are, but the part of me that wants him to suffer eventually wins out, so I play it cool. “Thank you for the reminder, Mr. Townsend.”
“If you think there’s something deeper with Beck, you’d be wrong about that,” he insists as he turns back to me. “He doesn’t see you as anything more than a great fuck.”
If I really wanted to preserve status quo with JT and not alert him to anything, I would meekly agree with his statement. But the fighter in me . . . the woman who hates this man and wants to defend herself to make up for the fact that once I was absolutely defenseless against him, narrows her eyes and sneers, “I am a great fuck, JT. A really superb, fantastic fuck. But you and I both know there’s more to me than that. Otherwise you wouldn’t be trying so hard to tear me down.”
JT actually rears backward a bit with eyebrows raised. I can tell he never expected me to fight back.
Before he can even think of a comeback, and before I can ruin anymore of Beck’s plan to solidify his friendship with JT so he’ll seek him out for money, I step into JT and murmur softly, “But don’t worry . . . I would never attempt to come in between your friendship with him. I’m very aware of Beck’s feelings for you and I’m going to try to make a very concerted effort to get along with his oldest friend and business partner.”
I step back and beam up at him with a warm, brilliant smile. Giving him a nod, I set my half-empty