“You really should. Tomorrow night.” I laugh at that, knowing full well Fletcher’s show is on tomorrow night.
He lets out a chuckle that sounds a little bit like a growl. “It’s a date.”
“Shit, I was kidding.” I say, laughing.
And then he reaches up and scratches his scruffy chin. My eyes immediately dart to his fingers, and then his lips. Lips, Tiffy, I tell myself. Do the mouth thing.
I take another sip of my drink, letting the sticky liquid cling to my lips, and then my tongue darts out and sweeps a small drop into my mouth.
His eyes are fixated on me. So I improvise. Because hell, I’m on a roll here. He’s right where I want him. “So what are you doing here alone?”
“Stood up,” he says.
“What? No way. You? Who would stand you up?”
“You’d be surprised.” He grins, taking a sip of his beer. “So I figured I’d wait around and see if my luck changes, and sure enough, here you are.”
OK, Tiffy. Concentrate. Toe-leg combo. What the fuck can that mean? Why didn’t I listen to Fletch in the car? I run all the possibilities through my head and only come up with one thing. Footsie? Is that still a thing?
I have no idea. But it’s as good a move as any. So I slip my shoe off under the table, cross my legs, and start swinging them. I hit his leg after a few tries and look up to see him smiling at me.
“What are you doing?” he asks with an air of amusement.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bump your leg. So, what do you do?” I ask again.
“I’m… an investor.”
“Oh, nice. My father does that too. What do you invest in?”
“The usual. Stock, bonds.” He nods in the general direction of the bar. “And now golf courses.” He stares at me. Hard. And then I feel something touching my leg. His foot is bare too. And it’s rubbing up and down my calf in long, slow caresses. He has a look of amusement on his face and the whole thing makes me draw in some air with surprise. It’s almost like he’s using Fletcher’s moves against me.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
I stand up at the sound of Fletcher’s voice and bump into his back, that’s how close he’s hovering.
“Fletcher,” I whisper. “Keep your voice down. This is my new friend, Walker. Walker, this is—”
“Nice to see you again, brother.”
“Brother?” And that’s when I see the beaded silver chain around Walker’s neck and the other half of what is probably the grandfather’s dog tags.
“Fuck you,” Fletcher spits out. “We stopped being brothers nine years ago. Come on, Tiffy, we’re done here.”
“Is this your disappointing date, Tiff?” Walker says, standing up and staring straight at Fletcher. “The one you walked out on?”
“Um, I’m not sure what’s happening,” I say. But Fletcher has a grip on my hand and he’s already pulling me through the bar towards the door. Everyone is looking at us, and the heat of embarrassment creeps up my neck and flushes my face.
I look down at my feet as I’m tugged back out into the parking lot. The limo is gone, I’m sure not expecting us to leave so soon. And the parking lot is packed, so I doubt it found somewhere close by to wait. Fletcher pulls me along the asphalt, not saying a word until we reach the edge of the golf course and he walks me into the woods. We follow a dirt trail until the sound of people and traffic recede, and then he lets go of my hand and grabs his hair with both fists.
“What the fuck were you doing with him?”
“What? You sent me in there to flirt with a guy. How the hell was I supposed to know he was your brother?”
“I sent you in there to flirt with Jim. The guy at the bar. You blew him off and made a beeline for my fucking brother!”
“I didn’t know he was your brother! What is your problem? And why did you have someone in there? Did you set me up?”
“Tiffy,” he says, taking a firm grip on my upper arms and shaking me a little. “What kind of man do you think I am? I would never send you into a bar to pick up a stranger. Jim is the guy who works with me. He’s there to play a role and watch over you. I would never put a girl in danger like that. It’s all controlled. It’s all set up. It’s all—”
“Fake,” I seethe. “Everything about you is fake, Fletcher. Not one thing is real, is it?” He just stares at me, that tongue of his doing a dance against his top teeth.
“Well?”
He shakes his head at me and pulls out his phone. “Roger, we need to be picked up. South entrance, near the putting green.” And then he ends the call and starts walking the way we came in.
“Fletcher?” I call out.
“Follow me, Tiffy. Now.”
“No,” I shout. “No! I’m not going anywhere with you until you tell me what the hell is going on. Is this matchmaking thing fake too? Do you plant men for these girls to reel in, so you can pull it off? Are their relationships fake? Did you sell each girl to the biggest bidder? What kind of men do they marry? Foreigners looking for a green card? You’re some kind of sex slaver! So when will they find that out? After they give them their hearts? After those few get married? Will the guy get pissed off one night and tell her their whole life is fake?”
Fletcher turns back to me slowly, his face nothing but anger. “Don’t pretend like you know me. And don’t,” he seethes, “accuse me of fraud.”
“Then why was that guy there to meet me?”
“I told you,” he says in a lowered voice. “To keep you safe.”
“So I was supposed to flirt with him. And then what, Fletcher? Was I supposed to win or lose that game?”
He just stares me down.
“Lose, I take it. So you could be the good guy and come to my rescue. Make me feel better about my failure? God, you’re sick.”
“You don’t even want that guy. So what do you care? If it was Cole, it would be real.”
“How do you know? You’re just a conman, Fletcher. You trick people. You lie and you cheat. I’m done with this, OK? I’m going back to San Francisco the first flight I can get. And just fuck you, OK? I’ll send someone to replace me and they can decide what happens.”
I start walking back the way we came, and he reaches out for my arm as I pass him.
“Don’t,” I say, yanking my arm away. “Don’t even touch me. You’re everything I thought you were that first night at the show. Everything and more. You’re the most pathetic mess of a man I’ve ever met, Fletcher. You’re nothing but a pretty face with a dark soul.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Come in,” I call to the knock at my locker room door in the gym.
“Helloooo?” Tiffy’s BFF, Claudio, calls as he peeks his head inside.
“I’m packing, asshole. I’ll be out of here when I’m done. So tell Miss Preston to calm the fuck down and—”
“Whoa,” Claudio says, putting both hands in the air. “Hold the phone, cowboy. Unpack your bags, take a deep breath, and put on your I’m-not-an-asshole hat because I told Tiffy you had one.”
“What?” I squint as he enters and closes the door behind him. “I got a pink slip in the email this morning. So I’m just gonna do everyone a favor and be on my way.”
“Plans have changed, Fletcher. Randall Preston is coming here tonight to see the show.”
“What?”
“And Tiffy asked me to come down here and ask you to stay for tonight. She says she will make sure you get a bonus if you stay.”
“Tiffy sent you?”
“Mm-hmm,” Claudio says, his lips pressed together tightly in a hard smile.
“She wants her old man to do the honors, or what? She wants to humiliate me in front of him to make herself look better? No fucking thanks.”
“It’s just one show, Fletcher. And he’s not coming to fire you. He’s coming because TravelXpress is going to be here to rate the hotel for a deal they are running next month online.”