The Heiress (Book 2 of the Forbidden Series)

18

Layla spent all week in Alexander’s arms. In their suite they spent sleepless nights, their bodies entwined, stopping heaven and earth. In the mornings they toured the city, seeing the sites and shopping. Alexander was not one for shopping or mall hopping, but to see the joy in Layla’s eyes, he would have tried on a few dresses himself. Their afternoons were enjoyed on the beach, massaging lotion into her back and shoulders, cuddling, and sipping ice tea in the sun, joining in on the odd game or two.

Alexander gave waterskiing another shot and found that once he got the hang of it, he was not half bad at it. By his third time out on the water, Kevin and Mitch were teaching him a few basic tricks. The humid evenings were wild, partying in some of the city’s hottest nightspots. Clubs Alexander would never have dreamt of ever getting into unless he was the staff, but in the company of multibillion-dollar heirs and heiress anywhere they went, there was no lines, no cover, and always the best service.

Their first night out Alexander felt slightly out of place with the way he was dressed. He did not fit in with his shabby, worn clothing. He had always looked good but compared to the patrons of the clubs Alexander looked like a pauper. The next morning when they had gone. Shopping Alexander allowed Layla to dress him. It was more money than he had ever spent on clothing at once, but that night he fit right in. The reward was well worth the price, for the first time he looked as though he belonged with her. No one questioned his presence, nor patronized him. No one tried to take her from him or bring up the limits of their relationship. He could almost forget his temporary status.

The last night in Florida they had decided to take a late dinner at the Zeitgeist, a trendy German establishment with pricey menus. Alexander stared into his wallet at the remaining twenty dollars he had. He was broke, with another twenty-four hours to go and an expensive evening ahead. “Problem?” Jeff asked dropping into the seat next to him while they waited in the hotel lobby for the girls to change their clothes. They were all taking in a movie that afternoon to wind down from the week past.

Alexander snapped his wallet shut and put it back in his pocket. “Nothing.” He said coldly; he couldn’t afford to keep up with them all. Jeff had made sure of that, suggesting insanely expensive pass times and events he knew all his friends would love. Things that got Layla excited cornering Alexander so he could not say no without disappointing her. Jeff had been trying to bankrupt Alexander on this trip, being that he was the only one among them without access to endless funds. He wanted to slap that smug grin off Jeff’s face; Alexander was not going to allow this selfishly spoiled aristocrat the satisfaction of beating him.

“Alexander Sinton, strange name for a Cuban. Not very ethnic.” Jeff observed, rapping his fingers against the arm of his chair.

Alexander eyed him suspiciously. Why would this man bother with small talk? They were not friends and never would be, but for Layla’s sake, he would remain civil. “My mother is Cuban. My father came from Rome. They gave me his name.”

“Your parents immigrated or are you second generation American?”

“Does it matter? Do you even care?” Alexander snarled the very sound of Jeff’s voice like a nail in his brain. “Look, why bother? You don’t like me, and I don’t like you, we both know it so why play games? We only have to deal with one another for one more day. So, what do you say we kill the chit-chat and settle for quiet toleration?” Alexander said bluntly; he did not feel like going through the motions of politeness. He needed to come up with some currency, and he needed it fast. A few hundred would tide him over for the rest of the day and the next morning. They flew out the next afternoon, all he had to do was make it through until then, and he was home free. Back to work and…

Work.

The answer to his money problems.

Alexander stood up and walked over to the desk asking for the phonebook. The clerk brought the thick book to him dropping it on the desktop and inviting Alexander to use the house phone if he wished. Sliding the book down the smooth top to a more private section, Alexander flipped through the pages.

Clubs… nightclubs… looking for a ladies’ night or an amateur’s night at one of them. He made a few quick calls and after the fifth found one club that could direct him to a local group called Southern Sin. Alexander scheduled a meeting with the head of the group, explaining that he was low on funds and stranded in town looking to earn a few bucks to get home on, asking for a professional courtesy. They did not have a club show he could take but were willing to offer him a private party for that early evening on the condition that he provide them with twenty-five percent of the wage and he was free to keep the tips. It would do. Alexander took down the address and would sneak out of the movie to settle the details. He could run in and do the show, collect his pay and drop off the fee on his way to dinner that night. He would be a little late, and he would have to leave early, but at least he would be set for the rest of the evening.

Alexander rejoined Jeff in the center of the lobby. Kevin and Mitch had already joined Jeff. The girls were descending the steps to the lobby. Alexander watched Layla. Her pale-yellow sundress swayed around her knees with each step. Her open-toed heels showed off her long slender legs. Her fiery curls tied up in a heavy ponytail. She was like a ray of golden sunshine drifting toward him like a gift from God.

Jeff watched her as intensely as Alexander. Both men appreciated her simplistic splendour. “You don’t deserve her,” Jeff said quietly for only Alexander to hear, not once taking his eyes from Layla.

Alexander smiled, drinking Layla in with his dutiful gaze. “I know.” He replied with self-satisfaction. “But in the end, I got her.”

“When you are gone I’ll get her back,” Jeff informed him.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Alexander burst his bubble.

Jeff looked Alexander in the eye, his voice very low so not to be overheard. “Don’t worry I’ll get rid of you one way or another.” He promised.

Alexander ignored him. In long strides, he moved to meet Layla at the bottom of the steps. Closing his fingers around hers. They walked hand in hand to the rental car. Gregory and Joshua always ten steps behind them. Alexander had become accustomed to their presence finding it easier and easier each day to forget they were even there.

When they reached the theatre, Alexander realized the theatre showing their chosen move had been rented out. Reserved for them alone. The seven of them the only ones in the vast room. They had their pick of seats. They could talk through the movie or put their feet up on the seat in front of them. They did not have to work around the show time the show was to be played when they gave the go ahead. They selected their seats and in-movie snacks. Once they were settled in Gregory gestured to the man peering out of the projection room. The lights dimmed, and the movie began.

Ten minutes into it Alexander excused himself with a whisper. “I’ll be back.”

Layla lifted her head from his shoulder with concern. “Do you want us to have the movie stopped? We can hold it until you get back.”

“No, no, I won’t be too long I promise. I’ll be back before you know it. Do you want me to bring you something back from the snack bar? A drink maybe?”

“Just you.” Layla kissed him as he rose from his seat unlacing his arm from hers. Alexander just smiled in reply and quickly exited the theatre.

Jeff watched as the door swung closed behind him. Having seated himself on her opposite side, he leaned over. “Something wrong?”

“No, he just went to the washroom.”

“Should we hold the movie?” He asked with false consideration. He did not care either way. The longer Alexander was gone, the more time Jeff had with Layla.

“No, he won’t be gone long.”

***

The address Alexander had was down the block from the theatre. Alexander ran all the way finding the right street and turning south. Finding the apartment, Alexander buzzed and was let inside shortly afterward.

A surfer looking fellow opened the suite door taking a drag from his cigarette. He was older than Alexander and wore shorts and a muscle shirt. The radio was playing in the background and perspiration dampened the man’s forehead. He had obviously been practicing. “You the Yankee?” He asked exhaling a ring of smoke. Alexander nodded. “Ok come in. My name is Hank.”

“Alexander. Once again I thank you for this.” He said gratefully stepping inside and closing the door.

“Well, we got a boy going north for a few weeks in the fall. We will tell him to look you up should he need a few bucks himself.” Hank said butting his cigarette out in the ashtray on the couch arm.

“I’ll be more than happy to hook him up with some work.”

“Well, let’s see what you got. Want to make sure you are decent if you are representing us to our clients.” Hank chuckled dropping down on to his forty-year-old couch kicking his feet up on the coffee table. “Consider this an informal audition.” Alexander nodded, he remembered the drill. He reached back and pulled his shirt off over his head. Hank looked him over. His sculpted upper body and bronzed skin. “Well you look good, and I’ll assume you can dance. Ok, the address is on the posted there. It’s six middle-aged women, a divorce party, ain’t love grand.” He mocked. “It’s three bills, just a teaser, but they are repressed bored ex-housewives so expect a lot of heavy pawing.” Hank rose and walked over to a drawer in the kitchen and removed a few business cards then handed it to Alexander. “Leave these in the room. Collect cash up front, and we will have someone meet you there right after to pick up our percentage. You are only expected to be there for a half hour.”

Alexander put the cards in his pocket and pulled his shirt back on. Taking the posted off the wall, he reviewed the address. Alexander picked up a pen on the table and jotted down his name, number, and the number of Raw Body. “That is how you can get a hold of me should you ever need the favour returned. If not me, call this second number and ask for Rick, drop my name and he will hook you up. Thanks again.”

Hank shook Alexander’s hand and saw him out. “Hell, we got to get each other’s backs or what is the bloody point. Make us look good.”

Alexander grinned. “When I’m done tonight your business will double,” Alexander promised.

***

He returned to the movie theatre only twenty minutes after leaving, answering a ton of concerned questions from Layla. She thought he was seriously ill and worried that he wouldn’t make their dinner. “Should we stay in?”

“No, I’m fine.” Alexander squeezed her hand. “Trust me.” Placing his arm around Layla, he pulled her close stroking her hair. “What’d I miss?”

Jeff glared at Alexander. The man takes off for almost half an hour, and she is completely cool with it doesn’t even demand an explanation. Jeff slumped in his seat stuffing a handful of popcorn in his mouth. Washroom his ass, Alexander was up to something, and Jeff was going to find out what.

***

Alexander dressed for dinner early. Trying on the best of the new clothes Layla had chosen for him and putting together an irresistible outfit that would suit both his dinner plans and work purposes. He would not have time to change between the show and dinner. He would have to cab it to the restaurant from the hotel he was performing at. He made up an excuse to leave early, assuring Layla he would meet her on time at the restaurant. Saying he needed to find a tailor and have them fix a cufflink before dinner. Granted it was not his best excuse, but she did not argue, only kissed him and said. “Don’t be late.”

Alexander had called for a cab earlier finding them easier to get here than in New York, a fact he was grateful for. It would cut down his time. He reached the hotel and paid the driver with the last of his cash. Handing over his last penny Alexander stood staring at the hotel praying these women tipped well. He started inside pausing at the door. Looking over his shoulder, he had the strangest feeling someone was watching him, dismissing it, he went inside.

Taking the posted from his pocket, he read the name and room number. Taking the elevator to the third floor, Alexander strolled down the hall to the last room on the floor. Rolling his shoulders and swinging his arms Alexander limbered up, revving himself up for the performance. He took a deep breath and put on his game face. Alexander knocked on the door. The door opened, and Alexander’s sexy smile won them over instantly. “Good evening ladies, I’m Alex Styles. You ordered room service?” They invited him in, and the door closed behind him.

Down the hall beside the elevator, Jeff hid peering around the corner to watch. The punk was working, he gleamed. Alexander was broke, and instead of admitting it he lined up a job and lied to Layla. This had worked out better than he had hoped. She would be furious when she found out.

And Jeff would make sure she found out.

***

Layla stood in the entrance watching for Alexander. He had not arrived yet. “Come on honey let’s go to our table,” Kim said, persuading Layla to come inside. “I’m sure he won’t be much longer.”

“I suppose you are right.” Layla followed her friend inside, giving her coat to the host. They were escorted to the table where the others sat already ordering drinks. All happy and laughing over the events of the past week. Jeff, above all, was particularly chipper.

“Maybe he got lost.” Kevin offered an attempt to comfort her.

“One can hope,” Jeff mumbled under his breath lifting his drink to his lips. Gregory chuckled pretending to cough into his balled-up hand. Both received a nasty stare from Layla and Kim. “Don’t look at me like that; I didn’t make him late. What did you expect when you bring a ghetto brat into respectable society?”

“Respectable society?” Jill commented with a mocking tone. “I’ve seen the Heathens careers and personal lives; you two hardly come from respectable society.”

“Money can buy you into respectable society, and it did.” Jeff winked lifting his glass to toast his point.

“Here-here.” Mitch and Kevin cheered lifting their glasses to his.

“Still the man has no concept of class.” Jeff continued placing his glass on the table.

“I don’t know; he looks pretty classy to me,” Jill remarked blushing as she watched Alexander approach the table. He looked strapping in his dress attire. His strong muscular body filled out his clothing as though they had been specifically designed with him in mind. The man could have been plucked from every woman’s dreams.

Alexander kissed Layla hello and apologized for being a few minutes late. Things went a little longer than he had thought. On the plus side, they tipped very well. The waiter brought over the menus and allowed them time to review the selection. Alexander stared blankly at the menu. He could not read a word of it. Glancing over the top, he observed that he seemed to be the only one. Alexander glanced back at the menu feeling very blue collar. When the waiter returned, they all ordered. Alexander was last and not exactly sure what everyone ordered he pointed to Layla and simply said. “I’ll have the same.”

The waiter took the menus and walked away. Jeff chuckled. “You don’t have a bloody clue what you just ordered do you?”

Alexander shrugged. “I’m sure it will be delicious either way.”

“So, busy night Alex? We were all theorizing what kept you. Why don’t you fill in the blanks?” Jeff suggested knowingly.

Alexander’s smile faded. His mouth in a stern line. “I had a few things to do, and the cab got stuck in traffic.” He lied.

“Is that so?” Jeff asked with a grin picking up his drink and relaxing into his seat.

Jill had the pleasure of sitting beside him and breathed him in; Alexander smelled glorious. But something was off. She could have sworn he smelled of ladies’ perfume. “That is strange, was your driver a woman?” She asked casually. “She had a wonderful perfume.”

Jeff’s smile widened at Layla’s stunned expression. She leaned in to smell Alexander herself. “She had a nice shade of lipstick too, but I don’t think it’s your colour.” Jeff chuckled pointing out the tiny pink smug on Alexander’s collar.

Layla leaned forward placing her hand on his face to move his head so she could get a better look at his shirt collar. Suddenly Layla slapped him, standing so quickly her chair toppled over. “You lying sack of-”

“Layla, please calm down it’s not what you think.” Alexander interrupted grasping her wrist and preventing her from walking out. The other customers were staring at them.

“Oh really, what was it then? You were walking down the street, she tripped and fell onto your neck.”

Alexander stood up and took hold of her shoulders forcing Layla to turn and look at him. “Be serious; give me a moment to explain. Let’s go somewhere more private.” He suggested feeling all eyes on them. He couldn’t care less what people thought of him, but it had been clear to him that her reputation could be in jeopardy especially now that she was two days from being released and joining the ranks of those followed by the media and scandal sheets.

Layla pushed his hands away, her face twisted in jealousy. “No, explain right now, right here.” She demanded her eyes angry.

“Yes Alexander, explain… we’re all listening.” Jeff said with a satisfied grin.

Alexander shot him a hateful look and then looked back at Layla. “I think we should take this somewhere more private.” He insisted, his voice trembling with annoyance.

“Now!”

“Fine. I wasn’t sleeping around.” Alexander snapped, gasps and whispers rising from the surrounding tables at his crudeness. “I was working. I ran out of money and scored a quick buck to tied me over until we left.”

“Working?”

“Maybe you forget, but not everyone at this table has unlimited funds. Some of us need to work to keep the money flowing.” Alexander barked back.

“How the hell did you get a job down here?”

“I asked.” He growled.

“So, what, you just walked up to some pretty girl, flashed a smile and offered to get naked.” Layla hissed.

“Yes, that is exactly what I did. I f*****g ate her out too for an extra twenty.” He snapped sarcastically, insulted by her low opinion of him. “I called another stripper, and he hooked me up, it’s called professional courtesy.”

“I thought it was called pimping,” Jeff commented enjoying the entertainment.

“Stay out of this,” Alexander warned a violent tone in his voice.

“And so, you did this job and let them all over you. That is why you reek like perfume?” Layla snarled, hurt that he lied to her and not sure what bothered her more… the lie or the image of the other women touching him.

“Of course, I did. It’s part of the job.” He defended himself.

The host carefully walked over asking them calmly to take their argument outside they were disrupting the other customers. Layla picked up her glass and chucked it at the host screaming at him to stay out of it. A little blue-haired lady gasped in disgrace chattering on behind her. Layla turned to her and snarled. “Mind your manners you prudish relic. Eat your fish.” She spun on her heels and lay into Alexander once more. “I suppose letting them grope and kiss you,” she said, every word dripping with disdain as she thumbed the lipstick smug, “that is just part of the job too?”

“Damn it, Layla; you know it is. It’s not nearly as bad as what I let you get away with.”

Jeff chocked on his drink, she didn’t honestly pay him, did she? “Don’t you even go there.” She growled.

“Why the hell not, you were hinting to it. You think I do that for all my clients.”

Her face flushed with rage. She fisted her tiny hands by her sides, her knuckles turning white. “Stop making me sound like a john.”

“Why not you are making me sound like a w***e. But then again what is the difference, either way, I get paid, might as well get laid too.”

“Go to hell.” His words were like a slap to the face. He might as well had driven a knife into her chest. “You are an asshole.”

“And you are a spoiled brat.”

“How dare you talk to me that way!”

“Why? Because you are some rock n’ roll heiress? Because your daddy is David Thompson; I should kiss your ass? What do you expect from me? To stop working while you are interested. How do I support myself? I don't have a trust fund, Princess. No rich daddy to fork out the cash for my every bloody whim. I work, or I starve. Unlike everybody at this damn table, I have responsibilities, people who depend on me. I can’t keep doing this.” He gestured to the dinner table. “I can’t afford to keep up with you and your friends, and if you want me to try, I have to work. I’m a stripper Layla; you knew that from day one.”

“I know! I just thought… I mean can’t… you just…” She didn’t know what to say. She could not bear the thought of any other woman seeing him, touching him. He was hers, and she was selfish, she did not want to share any part of him for any reason.

“What? Sit back and enjoy the ride. Waiting for you to be done with slumming and move on to some pampered rich boy like Jeff, while I go back to my rundown shack and a whole new set of creditors.” An awkward silence filled the restaurant, breaths held in anticipation of her answer. “That is what I thought. Well, you know what princess, I’ll save you the trouble of having to tell me when you are tired of slumming because you are done. This homeboy is going back to the ghetto where I belong.” Alexander stormed off.

Layla’s heart leapt into her throat, an irrational fear of losing him taking over. “Alexander!” She called after him. He paused looking at her over his shoulder. ‘Tell him you love him, just say it.’ But the words got trapped in her throat. She could not say the words. Could not repeat what her aching heart was screaming. “The flight doesn’t leave until tomorrow.” She reminded him, not knowing what else to say.

It had not been what he had hoped to hear. He was crazy to think a woman like Layla Thompson could ever love him. She had humiliated him enough in their time together; there was no way he would confess his feelings to her only to be shot down or laughed at. “Your flight leaves tomorrow.” With that, he walked out of her life.

Jeff grinned, the only chipper face in the establishment.

Alexander was gone.

Layla’s heart was broken, and he was there to pick up the pieces.

This called for another drink.

***

Layla had lost her appetite and had not eaten a bite all night, fighting back the tears and humiliation of being dumped so publicly. When they had returned to the hotel she had hoped that Alexander had been given sufficient time to cool off, maybe they could talk this out, but all she found in their suite were her suitcases and the delicate tiara placed on top of her pillow. Alexander’s things were gone. She called down to the desk only to find that he had called for a taxi to the airport an hour earlier.

Layla sat slumped on the edge of the bed dropping her hand and the receiver into her lap. The tears flowed freely now as the reality of the situation hit her.

He had left her.

Alexander was gone.