The Plus One Pact Read Online Crystal Kaswell

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After all, how could he? I don’t believe me either.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Romeo

Ishould call Ivy. Ask her to come back. I should give her a chance to explain without accusing her of the using me.

I used her too. I shouldn’t be so upset.

It was a fair trade. But I don’t want it to be fair. I want both of us to have fucked up.

So I don’t call her.

I let her take some part of me with her.

The second she’s out of sight, I feel it. The loss of her laugh, her scent, her warmth.

This is the end. Or something like it.

She can make sure she never sees me again. If that’s what she really wants.

Is it?

The thought guts me, but I try to push it aside. I should be angry. She deceived me. I try to hold onto that, to find some righteous anger.

But I’m not mad.

It would be easier if I was. It would be easier if I hated her for telling the whole world about our time together.

But I don’t.

If things were different, I’d be proud.

So why does this hurt so much?

She exercised her right. How can I fault her?

And this—

Well, it was a matter of time.

I march upstairs, and I knock on Daniel's door.

I expect my brother to greet me with a frown and a shake of his head. Really, Romeo, sex work? Could you be any lower?

I take a deep breath and step into the room, ready to explain myself. Listen, I know this isn't what you want for me. I know I've taken this easy path, relied on my body, put off my future—

But he doesn't answer the door with shame.

No. There's something totally foreign on his face.

Pride.

He's standing there, with the article up on his iPad, his dark eyes filled with curiosity, his lips curled into a smile.

"And all this time, I thought you were lazy…" He shakes his head at himself and motions for me to come inside. "But you built something. A business. A successful business out of nothing."

I do.

He shuts the door. "Take me through it."

"She did hire me after her divorce," I say. "That was true."

"No. Not your relationship." He laughs. "The finances. How does it work. When did it start? Tell me everything."

So, I do.

And when we're done, he calls his lawyer, and tells him to file the papers for our business right away.

This is what he's really been waiting for.

Proof I can run a business. He’s even willing to put up my half if Mom doesn’t hand out my inheritance early.

Ivy outed me.

And it got me everything I ever wanted.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Ivy

Thankfully, the first available flight is out of John Wayne airport. It's only a ten-minute drive, a quick security line, a short wait at the gate. Then almost six agonizing hours in a middle seat.

I spend every single minute trying to think of some way to put the genie back in the bottle. How can I erase this knowledge from the world? Make it so my friends, family, and colleagues don't see me as a divorcee who travels the world to sleep with random men in sunlit cities?

How do I make it so Romeo's family doesn't know what he does?

The details from the episode haunt me. The ones I thought were mine to share. The ones I thought were mine and mine alone.

The lie combined with the truth to start—

I have to confess something, dear listener. My sex life has been in a slump. I know, it's hard to imagine Doctor O in a phase without bliss, but I'm here. And that's when I decided to take my own advice and go to a professional. A different sort of professional this time.

I liked him the second I saw him. Because he had beautiful dark eyes and dark hair. Because he had this accent I couldn't quite place, an accent that made me feel I was somewhere else.

The parts I didn't share.

How good it felt to be somewhere else, because my apartment was a representation of my sad, single life. Because it still says, “look at you, Ivy Vaughn, failure at marriage, no good at the job you trained to do, not even holding your podcast together.”

But I think that was him, mostly. His charm. That's a hard thing to talk about because it's hard to quantify. I don't have any advice on building charm. I only know he had it and it made me feel easy. At ease.

No, it made me feel easy, too.

I fell into him. The way he wanted me too. He was playing a game with me, and I knew the rules. And, for once, I let someone else lead. I let someone else play.

And the next.

I know, it's risky to go back to someone, to try to find real sex when I'm paying for it. But maybe that's what makes it real. Knowing I get to demand things on my terms. How often can women say that? How often do we walk into the bedroom expecting things to be what we want? And if we do, how often do we find a willing partner?


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