I lean across the table and subtly nod toward a man in an expensive suit and three-thousand-dollar loafers at the bar. He can’t stop staring at Fiona. “I think you have an interested player at the bar already.”
“I noticed that.” Fiona bites her bottom lip and stares at the man. “He might be fun.”
I text Walker while they eye-fuck each other.
Me: The firm has told Fiona they’re suing me for breach of contract—non-solicitation of the staff and clients. And they’re likely going to ask the bar to revoke my license. Do you still want me in Whistler? I’m supposed to be a help, not a hindrance.
I see the bubbles rotate, and in seconds, Walker replies.
Walker: Absolutely, YES!
I smile. “I guess I need to go home and pack. Have fun and call me later.”
Fiona nods, but she doesn’t even look at me as she continues to lock eyes with the man at the bar. “I will. And have fun and get rid of some of that stress with Walker.”
I walk toward the exit, and when I look back at Fiona, the man is helping her with her coat. I wish I was as free with my sex life as she is. I have no doubt she knows what she’s doing.
Cool air blasts me as I step outside, and it occurs to me that I’m not sure what to expect on this trip, which makes it hard to pack. I text Walker once I’m settled into a rideshare.
Me: Okay, I guess I’m going to Whistler. What should I bring?
Walker: Sexy lingerie. Condoms. And please God, those sexy stilettos you always wear.
Is he drunk?
Me: You promised me my own room.
Walker: Doesn’t mean we can’t share sometimes.
Me: Maybe this is a bad idea.
Walker: I’m teasing. I’ll bring the condoms and you just bring your wonderful self. I’ll pick you up at 2 on Friday. That way we can clear customs and get there in time for dinner.
Me: You don’t need to bring condoms.
Walker: You’re on birth control? I’m clean and have paperwork to prove it.
I roll my eyes. It’s like he’s fifteen again.
Me: That’s not what I meant, and you know it.
Walker: I do, but it’s fun to tease you. And the option is always on the table. Ron, Clarence, and I will pick you up at 2 on Friday afternoon.
Me: I’ll be ready.
When I get home, I pour myself another hefty glass of water and pull out the warmest things I own. My best footwear option seems to be a pair of Ugg boots, but they’re looking a bit beat. I need to do some power shopping before I leave. I text my personal shopper at Nordstrom. She’s the best at keeping an eye out for great suits that look professional yet can double as sexy after hours.
Me: I’m going on a last-minute trip to Whistler on Friday. I don’t have warm enough clothes. Any chance we can meet and I buy a few things?
Jennifer: Meet me at the employee entrance at the back of the store at nine tomorrow. I’ll be ready, and you’ll look amazing.
I can sleep soundly knowing Jennifer will take care of me in the morning, and Walker will take care of me while I’m there—but not like that. He’ll have a room for me and make sure I get fed. Now I sound like a dog. Good grief.
When I arrive at Nordstrom on Thursday morning, Jennifer is waiting for me, along with a security guard.
“You’re generous to come in so early,” I tell her.
“Whistler is a popular place for several of my clients this week.” She smiles.
“Are they going to a poker tournament?”
She winks. “I’ll make sure you’re not all dressed the same. Plus, with your figure, we can have some fun.”
“What are we waiting for?”
She leads me upstairs, and music blares as the employees stock shelves and prepare for opening later this morning. Jennifer takes me to a room lined with clothes.
She outfits me with ten days of jeans and warm sweaters, a few sexy numbers for the evenings, and skiwear in case I decide to try the slopes. Then she brings out the lingerie.
I stare at it wistfully. “There’s never anything sexy for these girls.” I point to my overflowing triple Ds.
“Designers have woken up to busty women who want to look sexy.” She presents me with multiple sets.
I can feel myself smiling. I’ve been stuck with sexy underwear and ugly, full bras that hide everything my entire life. Jennifer has pulled lacy, see-through bras, some with a bondage-type feel and others that are demure, but sexy. I’m in a candy store. “I’ll take it all,” I announce.
“Do you have snow boots?” Jennifer asks.
“Well, I have a pair of Uggs.”
She’s found a pair of dark gray leather boots that lace up with a wedge heel and textured bottom. I try them on, and I love them. This woman is amazing.
I walk out of the store fully outfitted. I spent a lot more than I thought I would, but I couldn’t help myself. I’ll worry about the bill when it comes.
I return home and spend most of the rest of a decadent day cutting the tags off and packing my bag. I can’t remember the last time I didn’t have a million things to do. It’s quite odd, actually. In the end, I decide I’m most excited to wear some of my new lingerie and a sweater that shows some cleavage. Walker can eat his heart out.
I’m not going to sleep with him, I remind myself as I fall asleep. I’m just going to tease the hell out of him for revenge. He’ll see what he missed out on. And at some point I have to get him to see that this fake-relationship idea is just not reasonable. He has to be crazy to think it could really work.
At two o’clock the next afternoon, Walker is right on time.
“Let me come up and get your luggage,” he says when I answer the buzzer.
“That’d be great. Thanks.” I zipped my bags and set them close to the front door seconds before he rang.
When Walker hits the landing outside my apartment, he peeks inside and takes in the blue and green accents in my white living room, which overlooks the Strand and Marina. “It’s you,” he says.
“Well, that’s good. I live here.”
He dressed in jeans and the roll-neck sweater he wore to my mom’s birthday party. He smells crisp and clean, like he just took a shower, and it turns my insides out.
“Just the two bags?” he asks.
“Yep. I’ll keep my computer with me, along with a few other items.”
He nods, and we head downstairs where Clarence and Ron are at the car waiting for us.
Ron has a giant grin. “Miss Peterson, so glad you’ll be joining us.”
“I’m happy to be invited.”
It’s Friday afternoon, so traffic is slow getting out of the city and to the airport. I’m grateful to be a passenger. Next to me, Walker takes a few calls, and in between, he makes small talk. He tells me who’s coming and how the poker game will be played. He also assures me that the other guests will be staying a few doors down at the Four Seasons, so we’ll have some freedom around the house. I won’t have to be “on” all the time.