“Wait, what are you talking about?” I stammered. “I don’t remember ….”
“Answer me honestly, Rosie. Did you take a photo of us? Was there or is there currently a photo of us or me in your phone?”
“Maybe one,” I admitted, totally embarrassed.
It was true. I had two photos in my phone. I had taken a photo on the second night. It was a reflection of both of us in a mirror. I had taken it for several reasons. One, in case he did something to me, I wanted there to be some sort of evidence in my phone. And two, I wanted to be able to see his face when I wasn’t with him because he was just so handsome, so sexy, so brooding. And on the third night we were together, I’d taken a photo of just him, standing gloriously naked.
When I was at home alone on the nights that I didn’t get to be with him, I liked to think about him—not that I was going to admit that to him. I mean, you don’t admit that to a guy that you’re sleeping with but not dating. It’s not like I would ever tell him that some nights when I felt couldn’t sleep and felt even more alone than usual, I’d stare at his photo and do things to myself.
“She saw the photo,” Jackson stated.
“But, so what if she saw the photo?” I frowned. “How the hell would she even know who you are? Unless you’re some sort of famous porn star I didn’t know about?”
He laughed as he shook his head, his eyes crinkling in mirth as he stared at me. “She gave it to a private detective, and he found out who I was.”
“What?” My jaw dropped. “So it was a private detective that was following me?”
“No.” He shook his head. “She doesn’t know when we meet. She doesn’t know anything about our situation. She doesn’t know we go to the hotel. All she knows is that I’m a guy that you have been meeting up with and that you’re sleeping with. She came up to me at a cafe I go to for lunch. The detective tracked me and knew I go there every day.” He shrugged. “I’m easy to find if you’re looking.”
“But how did the detective even get that information?”
“Let’s just say maybe I’m in a couple of databases. I’m sure I’m a photo match in several key sites that a good PI would have access to.”
“What databases are you in?”
“You name it, I’m most probably in it.” He chuckled as if he thought it was funny. How the hell was that funny? And why did that make him even hotter?
“So, she was able to get that information just from the photo on my phone?”
“Yeah. Technology is pretty cool these days.” He took another sip of the Guinness and winced.
“When did she come and see you? And where is this cafe?” I asked softly, because I’d only seen him at the hotel. I didn’t even know how to find him, even if I wanted to. “Is it close to your job or something?”
“Or something.”
“You’re not going to tell me.”
“No.”
“Why aren’t you going to tell me?”
“Because I don’t want to.”
“But my mom already knows. She’s the one that went to see you there. I could always ask—”
“You’re not going to say anything to her.” He reached over and he squeezed my hand. “Do you hear me? You’re not going to say anything.”
“Why wouldn’t I say something? She’s my mom, and you’re no one.”
“I’m not no one.” His voice was sharp. “I’m the guy that you’re fucking.”
“Well, we’re not fucking right now.”
“We fucked just 20 minutes ago.”
“Yeah, but that’s not—”
“Listen to me, Rosie. I think you’re in danger, okay?”
“Why do you think I’m in danger?”
“Let’s just say I have a feeling.”
“That doesn’t make sense, just because my mom offered you a hundred grand. There was a reason why she did that, you know. It wasn’t because of me. It was because of my dad.”
“She told me the story.” He nodded. “She told me everything.”
“What do you mean, she told you everything? What did she tell you?”
“She told me that your dad is a senator, that he’s hoping to be nominated to run for president, that your family can’t afford to have any scandals, and that you sleeping with me would be a scandal.”
“Why would it be a scandal?”
“Because look at me,” he said. “Do I look like the sort of guy America’s going to accept as the first son-in-law? No. I’m too rough. I’m too real.”
“I don’t know about that. I mean, what are you talking about? It’s not like we ever said … I just ...” I mumbled incoherently, not making sense. “So, my mom offered you a hundred grand to stop seeing me, and you said no?” Suddenly, the impact of what he’d done played on my mind. “Why did you say no? That’s a lot of money.”
“Money comes and goes. Good sex doesn’t.” He shrugged. “I prefer good sex.”
“But you don’t even know how long we’ll be having sex. I mean, we just meet at a random hotel room a couple of nights a week. I mean, I—”
“You like it, right?”
I nodded, not saying anything else.
“I thought you liked it, and I like it, so that’s good enough for now.”
“Is it, though? This seems to be getting really complicated, Jackson, or should I call you Alexei, or should I call you Alex?” My voice rose. Things still weren’t adding up. “Why did the maid at the hotel not tell me who you are, and why did she pretend that no one was staying in the room, and why is someone following me, and why were you at the train station that night, and …”
I paused. I was about to ask him why James had been speaking to Patrick. But as far as I knew, that was one part of the story that Jackson didn’t know. He didn’t know that I was engaged to be married. Or that I’d had my last boyfriend beaten up. I thought it best to keep that information to myself.
“That’s a lot of questions. You know how I feel about questions.”
“I need some answers. I need to know—”
“Rosie, I’m going to ask you one thing, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I’m going to ask you one thing, and then you can ask me whatever questions you want, and I’ll answer every single one of them as best as I can.”
“What does ‘as best as you can’ mean? Does it mean you’re going to lie?”
“It means that I will answer as best as I can. I won’t lie to you, but I might not be able to tell you the full truth.”
“Why might you not be able to tell me the full truth?”
“Because life is complicated, Rosie, like you said. This whole situation is complicated, and there are just things that I can’t share with you right now.”
“Okay. Well, what’s the point if you can’t be honest with me, and you can’t—”
“Rosie, don’t get upset, okay?”
“Fine. Whatever. What’s your one question?”