Read The Lover's Surrender (No Exceptions) for Free Online

files cluttering his main folders.
    My eyes
came to rest on today’s date. Brooke had met up with him. What were the chances
he’d be mentioning her to someone else? Probably zero, but I had to know
anyway. Fighting the onset of desperation, I leaned over Kenny’s shoulder and
pointed to the folder.
    “Click on
this one.”
    As
instructed, he opened it. Instantly, hundreds of pictures flicked to life, all
large. All professional looking. All taking part at some kind of dress-up
party.
    “It seems
to be work-related,” Kenny commented, stating the obvious. “I doubt we’ll find
anything here.”
    “Go through
them,” I commanded.
    “You sure?”
    “Yeah, just
to make sure we’re not skipping anything.”
    I didn’t
know what I expected to find. Maybe just seeing Grayson’s models would make me
imagine what kind of man he was.
    Kenny
started to click through one picture after another, opening and closing them
all.
    “There are a
lot of girls in here. Lots of good-looking girls,” Kenny said, amused. “My best guess is Brooke is friends with one of
them. Maybe she can get me the numbers of a few.”
    I frowned
at him for not taking this seriously. “Very funny.”
    Kenny
looked up, casting me a side-glance, and I realized he hadn’t been joking.
    “What?” he
said and shrugged his shoulders. “I’d hook up with them if they were available.
I mean, we’re talking professional models. I certainly wouldn’t say ‘no’.”
    “Aren’t you
dating Sylvie?”
    “She’s not
the exclusive type.”
    I frowned.
“You made that conclusion based on what?”
    Kenny
shrugged again and said nothing. I realized it wasn’t the time or place to make
further comments, so I decided to drop the topic.
    As Kenny
continued to comb through the pictures, the sour taste in my mouth intensified.
My heart raced. My stomach churned as the intensity of my suspicion grew
stronger, until a hint of nausea rose in me.
    And then,
there she was.
    “Stop
here,” I whispered. Kenny’s hand hovered in the air, ready to resume.
    In front of
us was a picture of a woman, half-naked, draped over a chair in a seductive
pose, next to two other models. Her hair was tied up in a complicated style,
and her face wore so much makeup, other people would have had a hard time recognizing
her. But I would recognize her eyes anywhere.
    I stared at
Brooke’s face.
    It was her,
without a doubt. The same brown eyes. The same high cheekbones.
      “I’ll be damned,” I cursed. “What the
fuck was she doing there?”
    Her dress
was shorter than anything she usually wore and almost transparent.
    There was
an air of confidence about her, a hint of sexiness—like the one of a
stripper ready to glide down a pole, showing off her body in the process.
Posing the way she had, she didn’t look like the Brooke I had fallen in love
with. She looked like a different woman.
    Like
someone I didn’t know at all.
    “I don’t
think she’s friends with them,” Kenny said by means of resuming our
conversation.
    “What makes
you say that?” I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
    “Well, for one,
she’s half-naked,” he said. “ Maybe she is doing it for fun.”
    “For fun?”
I turned to stare at him.
    Kenny
shrugged. “Lots of women take pole dancing or stripping lessons. Why not
modeling, too?”
    Could that
be the case? Was Brooke trying to learn to be sexier than she already was?
    “Well, I
want it deleted,” I said.
    “Sure.”
Kenny shrugged and pressed a few buttons. The photo disappeared from the
screen. “What about the others?”
    I stared at
the screen as I felt the pressure in my head increasing. “You think there are
others?” I finally asked.
    Kenny
clicked on a folder, and sure enough, more pictures of Brooke popped up. Anger
surged through me as I realized they were far worse than the first one.
    The room
seemed to be alive with people.
    People
dressed up.
    Men
standing next to Brooke, eyeing her.
    Men who
watched her as though she