CHAPTER 219: SPA CHERRY (2)

Sitting across from Jack was Evalyn fucking Tanner, and she was looking at him expectantly.

What were the odds that Evalyn fucking Tanner would choose to visit the same spa on the same day at the same time as him? And what were the odds that she would choose to sit down next to him?

She was waiting to see how he would react, and there was a twinkle of amusement in her blue eyes as she gazed at him.

"Scone?" he asked, not otherwise reacting or acknowledging that he knew who she was.

Her twinkle of amusement faded but was replaced with a look of mild intrigue.

"What you are holding. It’s a scone, which is an Albion pastry served during afternoon tea. The one you are holding looks to have raisins in it, so it is probably flavored with vanilla and cinnamon. Or maybe cardamom."

"Ah. Okay. Thanks for clearing up the mystery."

Then he turned and took a bite. It wasn’t flaky, nor was it hard and crunchy. Instead, it was slightly crisp on the outside and moist and crumbly on the inside.

He wasn’t certain what cardamom tasted like, but he knew what cinnamon tasted like, and this wasn’t it. It had less bite than cinnamon, but was still a pleasant flavor.

"What do you think?" asked Evalyn. "The scones they make here are quite good."

"The taste is nice, but I’m not a fan of the texture. It’s too crumbly."

She giggled. "If you ever travel to Albion, you’ll find that most scones are far more crumbly than the one you are holding. Some are so bad they practically fall apart with your first bite."

He took another bite, careful to hold the plate under his chin to catch any crumbs.

While he was chewing, Evalyn asked, "Is this your first time visiting the Wellington Spa?"

He nodded.

"Have you ever been to a spa before?"

He shook his head.

"Ooh, popping your spa cherry, nice."

Her statement invoked an involuntary laugh from him, and he nearly choked on the bite of scone he was chewing.

"You couldn’t have picked a better spa," she continued, amusement clear in her tone. "At least in this corner of the country, anyway."

He swallowed and tried to glare at her. He was sure, but suspected she’d intentionally timed her statement while he was chewing.

While he took a sip of water to wash down the scone, she asked, "Are you all right?"

Her tone suggested she didn’t think she needed to ask, and wasn’t actually concerned, but asked as a formality.

He nodded, then asked, "Speaking of cherries, when did you pop yours?"

He left his question vague on purpose, curious to see how she would respond to the double meaning of his question.

She smiled mischievously and said, "Oh, my cherry’s still intact. I’ve just been waiting for the right man."

He looked at her dubiously. Maybe she was expecting him to suggest he was the right man for her. Or maybe she was telling the truth. But that seemed unlikely.

He thought about several ways to respond, but decided to go with the blunt approach. Something told him she wasn’t used to people being blunt with her.

"I find it hard to believe that a Briarwood star such as yourself has managed to survive this long with her cherry intact. I’ve read the stories and news articles."

She blinked, but didn’t otherwise react for a moment, before saying, "That... was not the response I was expecting."

She looked around and, seeing the only other people in the room were near the walls, leaned towards him and spoke softly.

"You’re not exactly wrong. It has been difficult, but I made a promise to myself that I would not trade my virginity for advancement, even if it cost me my career. So as a result, I have had to suck a lot of cock. In the end, I think it’s been worth it. Both for my career and for myself."

Her eyes widened, and she put her hand over her mouth, then removed her hand and said in a perplexed tone, "Why am I telling you this?"

He knew why. His soul strength was probably affecting her. But of course he wasn’t going to tell her that.

He shrugged, then said, "Maybe your instincts are telling you that you can trust me?"

She nodded unconsciously, then caught herself.

"Wait, who are you? You never introduced yourself."

He reached out his right hand and said, "Waldron, Jack Waldron."

She had long, delicate fingers, and she gripped his hand firmly as she shook it. Then, still gripping his hand, she turned his wrist and glanced at his fingernails before releasing his hand.

"And what do you do, Mr. Waldron? If you don’t mind asking."

"I don’t mind. I’m a college student. And a real-estate investor."

"Oh?"

"Yes. My adoptive father died in a car accident due to his employer’s negligence. My adoptive mother sued and won. She died of cancer recently, and I inherited what remained of the settlement. Instead of just sitting on it, I decided to invest some of it in real-estate. So, I bought a few rental properties in the NSU area."

She covered her mouth for a moment while saying, "Oh, no!"

Then in a compassionate tone she said, "I’m so sorry to hear about your parents. That must have been awful."

"It was. Jacob’s death was a shock to both of us, and I don’t think Fran ever really got over it. But at least with Fran we knew it was coming for a long time, so we could both come to grips with it before the end."

"Do you have any other family?"

"No, my birth parents were both orphans and died in a car crash when I was ten. And Fran and Jacob never talked about their families, so either they were also orphans or estranged from their families. So, instead, I’ve been building my own family."

She was an actress, so he didn’t know if her look of compassion was genuine or an act.

"I can certainly understand wanting to build your own family. But how do you do that? Just make friends? A girlfriend? Wife? Kids?"

He chuckled.

"No kids. I am not ready to be a parent. So thank science for the Freedom CBG implant. And no wife, but I do have seven girlfriends."

Her face went stiff, and he thought she might be trying to hide a look of disgust.