What We Find (Sullivan's Crossing, #1)(100)

She went to dinner with him in her borrowed dress and, to her absolute amazement, had a lovely time. He was kind and thoughtful and patient, and he wanted her to enjoy herself. They became friends, and so it gave him great pleasure to take her places. It was important that she dress appropriately and so they shopped, outfitting her with more clothing at greater expense than she’d ever had in her life. He didn’t think the neighborhood in which she rented her one-room studio was very safe and so he lent her the use of one of his company’s corporate apartments, rent free. He had several that were usually used by traveling executives. One more or less made no difference.

And he sent her to a cosmetic dentist. His treat. Her smile, he had said, was stunning, and she should use it often.

Eventually she even enjoyed sleeping with him, but that wasn’t really a priority for him. He spent the greater part of his energy on business, a lesser amount in the company of his lovely young mistress, and an even lesser amount with his wife. Jennifer remained his girlfriend for about two years.

Because Jennifer had never been able to trust anyone to take care of her, she was completely prepared for their relationship to be temporary. When it was over, most of the accoutrements would vanish. The apartment and leased car would have to be returned, though being rich and a gentleman, he would very likely insist she keep the clothing and jewelry. She was determined to be prepared. So while her gentleman picked up the tab, Jennifer put a little bit of money aside for a rainy day. Growing up hand to mouth had provided her with considerable restraint in spending, and discipline in saving. Jennifer was going to take care of Jennifer, and she realized she had stumbled upon a good way to do it.

The rest, as they say, was history. The first gentleman came along when she was nineteen, Nick when she was twenty-eight. There’d been a few in between. She had been very fond of Robert and sad when he moved on, and Nick had grown on her in the last couple of years, but the others had been merely business arrangements. The only requirements were that they be rich, civil and derive great pleasure from treating her well.

*



As Jennifer walked down the wide hall of the MGM Grand Hotel, her extra-short skirt swaying back and forth across her shapely thighs, her high-heeled boots padding softly on the rich and thick carpet, men turned and watched as she passed. Hotel guests and bellhops and maintenance men. Even here in Las Vegas where great beauty abounded, they filled their eyes with her. She walked past a little boy, grasping his mother’s hand, who turned and looked up at her. He couldn’t be more than four and was fascinated. That’s men—so visual. She looked down at him and smiled and winked.

Her shiny platinum hair bounced down her back to her waist. Her eyes, made lavender by the contacts she wore, sparkled under thick lashes, and her lips, full, pouty and glossy, enhanced by collagen, begged to be kissed. To say nothing of her breasts—right up there where they should be thanks to relentless chest presses and a small saline implant under each one, compliments of gentleman number three. If she’d had it this together ten years earlier, she might’ve tried modeling rather than this current vocation. But this look hadn’t come cheap or easy.

She and Nick had been in Las Vegas for three days and tomorrow would be their last day. He was on a real run in high-stakes poker, and every time he wanted to get back to the game he had treated her. One of the gifts was the new tennis bracelet she wore. As well, he gave her a nice crisp stack of Bens—hundred dollar bills—with instructions to entertain herself. He spent a great deal on her, and she used the money to stay fashionable and desirable, always tucking a little away for that rainy day just around the corner.

She’d had a very good time, though she hadn’t spent much of it with Nick. She had shopped, taken in a couple of movies in the screening room, worked out in the private gym, spent some time in the spa being massaged, manicured and pedicured, and she’d caught up on her reading in the cabana by the private pool. Jennifer was tanned, but it wasn’t from the sun. She wouldn’t subject her skin to that. She was spray-tanned. Once a week she would have a facial, massage and a spray tanning that would begin to fade after four days. When she went to the pool or the beach, she lay under an umbrella or cabana. Her skin, she was proud to note, was nearly flawless.

She was with Nick every night, of course. Or make that the wee hours, after many hours of poker. At fifty-four Nick was fit and energetic, sometimes demanding, often relentless when it came to getting what he wanted. And if he wanted her at 4:00 a.m., she was compelled to oblige. Thankfully, it was only on trips such as this that she was on such a schedule. In Florida they kept separate residences and Nick rarely spent the whole night with her.

Sometimes she wondered if Nick wasn’t just a little more than she could handle. He was certainly the most virile man she’d been with. Every time she began to consider ending this affair, whether because of Nick’s demands or his wife’s instability, he’d give her something amazing, reminding her that he was worth every hour of her time. His gift to her last year had been a condo on the beach, and she was weakened by her love for it. Even with her growing savings accounts, it was way out of her league.

However, life could be lonely. Working in a business that catered to Nick, and having a flexible schedule so she could be at his beck and call didn’t make the other women in the office particularly friendly. But then, she’d always been a loner. She knew what they said about her, but she was no slut. There had only been a scant few men in her life since she was a teen, and she never dated more than one man at a time. Never.