Page 10 of Heartsmashed
Good God, that voice? Those hypnotic blue eyes that locked on to mine and wouldn’t let go? Sandy-blond hair that made him look like a model? It was no wonder this guy was an escort—he was perfect. Peter was going to lose his mind when he saw him.
IfBeckett agreed to go with me, and I was really, really hoping his answer would be yes. Funny how I’d almost not shown up at all. The bit about the train being late was a lie, because in reality I’d been talking myself out of this crazy idea and turned back home five times.
If I’d known Beckett would be the one waiting for me, though, I would’ve been here a half-hour early and two drinks in.
“Sawyer.”
My name on his lips sent a shiver down my spine and made me forget all about my very rational, totally sane plan. All I could do was stare at him like I’d forgotten how words worked,which was…new. I wasn’t a man who forgot how words worked. I hosted a nightly radio show, for fuck’s sake. Words were literally my thing.
And yet…
“Uh, right,” I said, blinking like it might reset my brain. “What I need. From you.” I took another sip of whiskey even though it was the last thing I would’ve usually ordered.
What could I say? I’d panicked.
Beckett waited, not rushing me at all, not filling the silence by rambling the way I did when I was nervous. He was solely focused on me, and that kind of intense attention was a heady thing.
I held on tightly to my glass with both hands, took a breath, and said, “Okay, so I need someone to come with me to the Catskills for a week. I think I said ‘family event’ like it was a one-night thing, but no, it’s an entire week.”
I paused just long enough to wait for his reaction, but if he was surprised by this job’s length, he didn’t show it. His eyes stayed focused on me in a way that made me squirm in my seat, and not in a bad way.
“It’s just…my moms are celebrating their anniversary,” I went on. “Thirty-five years. Which is incredible and inspiring, and also deeply inconvenient timing for me personally.”
That earned me the faintest hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.
“And my ex, Peter, is going to be there. With his new boyfriend, because, again, excellent timing.”
“Mmm.”
That was it. All I got. Just that one sound like he was taking it all in, and I decided to rush through the rest before I lost my nerve.
“Sooo, I need someone with me to play the part of…you know. My boyfriend. Someone who can convince everyone to believe it. Convince Peter to believe it.”
Enough that I believe it,I thought, but I didn’t say that part out loud. The guy was a professional, not someone who would fall in love with his client.
Beckett was still watching me, still entirely too calm about all of this. Or maybe he’d just heard it all before.
“You want him to think you’ve moved on,” he said.
“Yes. Exactly. Thank you. Yes.”
“And you haven’t.”
I opened my mouth to refute that, but then snapped it shut. Way to read me like a book.
“Wow,” I said finally, shaking my head. “You’re very good at this.”
I was fully aware that wasn’t a denial. Not even close.
Beckett didn’t call me on it, though. Just sat there like he’d already filed it away.
Cool. Cool, cool, cool.
Totally fine.
And then, because apparently I had no self-preservation instincts left, I said, “So that’s the situation. I need someone who can show up, be charming, pretend to think I’m amazing, meet my family and not be terrified of them and”—I gestured toward him—“look like…that.”
His brow lifted slightly. “Like what?”
