Paid To Love

Episode 13

Paid To Love EPISODE 13

Victoria’s POV

“I groaned as I pressed ice against my temple, attempting to alleviate the pounding headache. Regret flooded me; I shouldn't have indulged in so much alcohol, especially considering I had decided to get drunk the night before. The lack of foresight was apparent, compounded by the fact that I hadn't made it home until 2 AM, only to wake up at 8 for my nine-to-five shift. In summary, I felt terrible.

Across the store, Zoey smirked while wiping down tables. Initially, I volunteered for the task, but the smell of bleach threatened to make me nauseous.

Glancing at my phone, I half-expected a missed call from Henry, but there was nothing. Had I scared him off last night? Granted, he deserved my attitude, but a tiny part of me wondered if I'd been too harsh.

I snorted. There was no way I'd entertain that thought. He deserved every bit of it. Yet, a lingering worry persisted. What if he decided not to use me as his pretend girlfriend anymore? That was a substantial amount of money to give up just for a shred of dignity. Suddenly, my dignity seemed like a small price to pay for the generous sum he was willing to part with.

"Any calls from your Boyfie?" Zoey leaned over the counter to check my phone.

"Stop it, Zoey. It's all just for show. Surprisingly, no calls or texts," I replied.

"Disappointed?" she inquired.

"Not really," I said, opening the cash register. With the rainy and dismal weather outside, there wasn't much to do at work today. Most customers seemed to be at the Big Doughnut place down the street. Henry was right; maybe my boss should have thought twice before opening a place here.

Zoey nodded absentmindedly. "So, what are you going to do now, and what about your plans?"

I paused, unsure. I had to wait unless Henry changed his mind. If he did, I'd be in trouble, as this coffee place didn't pay enough to support myself, let alone cover potential college bills in the fall.

"I guess I have to wait a while. Hopefully, he hasn't given up on my ass because I did a lot last night. Thinking about it makes my head hurt more," I admitted.

"I'm sure he won't be able to get you out of his mind," Zoey remarked with a laugh.

I turned to her and laughed. "Really, Zoey?"

"Hmm, I wonder if he has a brother or a cousin as handsome as him?"

"Oh, James – the guy he was with the other day – looks nice."

Zoey's brown eyes lit up. "Oh yeah? I really liked him."

I shoved the money back into the register and closed the drawer. "If he's anything like Henry, you probably don't want to go for it."

"I'm up for a challenge," she replied. "It's about time for me to get over your brother, anyway."

The mention of my brother made me tense. "Yeah."

Zoey gave me a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry; I shouldn't have mentioned him, Victoria."

"It's okay; I just need to find out what happened to him," I replied, putting on my apron and leaning against the counter.

"I still feel like they're hiding something," she pointed out. "If you and the investigator can somehow prove something happened, then they would be forced to take up the case."

"Yeah, I just need a little more money for the investigation," I agreed. "I have this nagging feeling that Davies Industries might be involved in this, although I don't know how. Their story doesn't add up, even if Gerald does like to drink." The internal debate continued – did he die because he was drunk and in the wrong place at the wrong time, or were they hiding something? Either way, my head hurt, and for the past six months, I'd been alone.

"When we gather enough money, we will get to the bottom of it," Zoey declared.

"Maybe Henry knows someone who can help. You should ask him."

Henry probably did know someone who could help, but I hesitated to ask for assistance. How could I explain that I needed help finding out who might have murdered my brother, especially if he was connected to Davies Industries? "Don't bring it up to Henry, please. Don't even mention Gerald's name. And while I'm at it, don't tell him I mentioned his family or friend James; he didn't seem like he wanted to talk about it," I requested, recalling his expression. It mirrored my own when someone asked about my brother – that stop-talking-now look.

Zoey tapped her chin. "I won't say anything. But do you think it's like all those TV shows where he has a brother or cousin, and they start plotting to kill each other for the family business? Because that would be pretty intense."

I hadn't considered that possibility. It would make sense, especially if there was only room for one CEO in the business. A family torn apart by money would explain Henry's dramatic nature. "Huh. Maybe."

"Then maybe the other brother will meet you, and fall in love with you, and they'll be fighting over you and the right to the hotel!"

I grinned and shook my head. "Okay, Zoey, leave your crazy ideas to your books."

She rubbed her hands together, grinning mischievously. "A writer does need to get her inspiration from somewhere."

Just then, my phone vibrated, and Zoey let out an 'aha!' I flipped her off and picked up my phone from the counter. Henry Davies flashed on my screen. "I'm sensing a trend here," I said as I answered it.

"You picked up." He sounded surprised.

"That's what you're supposed to do when your phone rings," I retorted, though I typically preferred texts over calls. Nevertheless, Henry deserved my sarcasm.

"You're at work, though," he pointed out.

"If you knew that, then why did you call?"

"How are you feeling?"

"Oh, um, I'm fine." His concern caught me off guard, making me feel like a jerk. Here I was being snippy while he was genuinely considerate for once. "How are you?"

"I left some aspirin in the bag with your clothing. Did you see it? I figured you'd have a headache this morning."

He'd left me aspirin? That was surprisingly sweet. I had been in such a rush to get to bed that I hadn't even emptied out that bag, though. "I missed it. Did you go out to buy it? You didn't have to. It was my choice to drink, and I'll deal with the consequences."

"I carry it around with me," he explained, and I imagined him shrugging. "I get headaches often."

"Oh. Well still, thank you," I said awkwardly. He sounded different today, almost meek. Maybe I had been a little too rude to him, But it was definitely weird to have Henry acting this way. Creepy, almost. “Listen, Henry, about last night—”

“It’s okay,” he said immediately. “I’ve been, for lack of better words, an asshole. Don’t apologize because you haven’t been doing anything wrong. It was me.”

Just what exactly had I said the night before? Whatever it was, it worked. I was impressed. “Okay.”

“Can we move past this? I want this to work and not be awkward between us. I will do my best not to let a repeat happen.”

“Yeah, sure.” Get past me being completely plastered in front of him? No problem. Gladly.

There was a moment of silence after that. I was beginning to think this was a habit of his. Zoey stared at me hard, obviously listening to our conversation. I shooed her away.

“Ah, that’s right. Last night when I was leaving your apartment, I noticed that your lock on the front door was going,” he started again.

My heart skipped a beat. Had he entered my apartment? I didn’t remember that. “You went into my place?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

“No, I just walked you to your door. I’m talking about the main entrance. You should call your landlord to have it fixed. The area you live in is... unsettling.”

I relaxed a little bit. It wasn’t like I was embarrassed about my apartment (okay maybe a little), but in Henry’s eyes, it would probably look like trash. I definitely didn’t want him entering it or making any comments about its state. “I think she changed her number.”

“Your landlord?”

“Yeah, she doesn’t really act like one. Hence the squatter living below me.”

Henry hummed. “Maybe I can contact her.”

“No thank you,” I said quickly. I had the feeling Henry contacting my landlord would most likely end up with me being kicked out. “I don’t mind, anyway. The squatter isn’t bothering me.”

“Squatter aside, shouldn’t your landlord be making sure the upkeep of the apartment is good? It wouldn’t be a problem for me to contact her.”

“It’s my problem and my place so I’ll fix it myself,” I told him. Zoey raised her eyebrows and mouthed b***h at me.

He sighed. “Why are you like that?”

“Like what?”

“Why do you refuse my help? Most people would gladly accept it.”

I shrugged and then realized he couldn’t see me. “I’ve been on my own for a while so I’m used to doing things for myself and by myself. It’s better than relying on other people for everything. Sorry if I sound rude.”

“You sound lonely.”

I really wanted to say “what do you know?”, but I refrained from it. He probably didn’t know. He was rich. He had a family. It was better just to steer the direction of the conversation away from myself. The less he knew the better. The last thing I wanted was any more pity from him. “Is there any other reason you’re calling?”

Zoey shook her head at me and I raised an eyebrow in a questioning way. “You’re so rude,” she whispered.

Her comment distracted me and I only caught the end of Henry’s next sentence. “I figured it would be the fastest way. I will come to pick you up and drop you off, of course,” he finished.

“For what? Sorry, Zoey was talking.” Despite not thinking I was being rude, I lightened my tone to sound more polite.

“Would you like to come to my house” He said, almost shockingly.