Confessions of a Bad Boy(22)

“Millions.”

“Millions of people. It’s…sexist. Degrading. It’s plain disrespectful.”

“No no no, Jessie!” Lorelei says, stepping towards me and waving her hands as if begging for understanding. “That’s the thing! I know what you mean, there are guys like that – but he’s so different. He doesn’t lie, he doesn’t manipulate women. He’s just honest about what he wants, and respects women enough to understand that we love sex too! He’s got this whole philosophy about just being in touch with yourself, about being open, about grabbing the moment. He gives advice on how to navigate our sex lives responsibly in a world still defined by an outdated culture of repression! What could be more empowering than that?”

I stare at Lorelei, blinking. It takes me a moment to process all the ridiculousness that just spilled out of her zealous mouth. “Wow. You make him sound like some kind of guru cult leader.”

“I’ll tell you this: I would drink his kool-aid for sure.”

I pause mid-sip to cast a dubious look at Lorelei.

“I hope that’s not a euphemism.”

“All night long.”

She looks at me with psycho-eyes before we both break out in laughter.

“Between you saying all this and another fourteen-hour shift, I need a shower,” I say, packing stuff away.

“I need a man like him, Jessie. I really do.”

“Stop. That’s the last kind of man you need. The last kind of man any girl needs. He’d cheat on you the second you went to the bathroom and then make a video telling the whole world about it,” I say, walking past her and back into the hallway. The doorbell rings, and I hold a hand up to tell Lorelei I’ll get it. “I wouldn’t go within ten feet of a guy like that.”

I swing open the door.

“Hey Jessie, did you get my messages?”

Nate is almost mid-sentence the second I realize it’s him.

“It’s okay, Lorelei. It’s for me,” I call back over my shoulder before turning back to face him. “Nate? What are you doing at my apartment? It’s like ten o’clock at night.”

“I tried calling you all day. Did you change numbers or something?”

I look at him for a few seconds while the fact that he’s standing at my doorstep processes.

“You came all the way to my apartment to ask me if I changed numbers?”

Nate gives me a look. “No. I came all the way to your apartment to beg you, Jessie. I really need your help.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, laughing with the sheer absurdity of it all, “but there is no way in hell I’m helping you with this. You’re ridiculous.”

His eyes narrow as he leans forward, shooting me a sexy-dangerous glare that goes straight between my thighs. “You did say you owed me one…”

“Oh come on!” I yelp, stepping back and snapping myself out of the ‘do-whatever-I-say’ spell he’s trying to cast over me. “It was five minutes at the police station! And I already paid you back!”

“Okay, okay. You’re right, and I’m sorry for even asking,” Nate says, hanging his head and shuffling his feet a little. “This is just really important to me. It’s my career. I’ve worked so hard to get where I am, and now I’m hitting a wall and it’s just…frustrating. I’m gonna hate seeing someone else get this promotion. But I respect your decision.”

I sigh a little, trying not to break. It’s way harder to reject someone when they’re standing in front of you looking like a sheep-dog, talking about the impending death of all their hopes and dreams. I should have sent that rejection text on the bus.

“I have work on Friday,” I protest. “I won’t even get out til eight or nine if I’m lucky.”

Nate shrugs. “I can find someone to fill in for you, don’t worry about that. I still have strings I can pull with your producers. Hell, I’ll try and get you a couple of extra days off for yourself too if I have to.”

The thought of a few much-needed days off is undeniably appealing. I feel myself wavering. “But…don’t you know some actress who could do it? What if I can’t pull it off?”

Nate looks at me with a gleam in his eyes that tells me he already knows he’s won.

“Even if we pretend that Robinson hasn’t already met you, and even if I could get an actress to stand in, I’d have to go and tell her everything about myself so somebody doesn’t ask her the wrong question. And we’d probably be weird around each other. With you, it’ll be totally natural. You’re the only girl who actually knows me. Besides, you need a vacation. And after this, we’ll be even.”

Maybe it’s the effects of it being the end of a hard day, maybe it’s the weird sense that long-buried feelings are getting stirred up inside of me like a breaking storm, or maybe it’s just the dizzying effects of his distinct cologne – but I suddenly can’t think properly.

“I guess I do need a few days off…”

“There’s a spa, a pool, room service. It’s like a free resort getaway.”

“A free resort getaway where I have to pretend to be married to you, and spend most of my time with a bunch of manipulative Hollywood types. I get enough of that at work.”