Epilogue
Four Months Later
“No, no, no!” I dropped my forehead to the table. “Why is this so hard for them to get right? Champagne and ivory are not the same color. The seat sashes are supposed to be champagne, not fucking ivory!”
Brenda patted my shoulder. “There, there, Bridezilla. You have three months still to chew their asses out until they get it right.”
“Brenda, with the amount George is paying them to get it right, I shouldn’t have to be chewing asses.” I sighed and straightened again. “This is crazy. Why can’t we just elope in some tropical country and get married without all this fancy crap?”
My best friend laughed and shut the laptop down. “Okay, babe. Let’s get you a drink. You and I both know you wouldn’t want to have this any other way.”
“I know. I just… I
Oooh, shit this is taking forever. It didn’t matter how selective you are, how tight you squeeze, or how fast you go. There was always one that’ll take longer to come than everyone else you know. It didn’t happen often and they definitely didn’t go on my regular client list. I got paid for this but I sure as shit didn’t have the patience to bounce on some guy until he decides he wants to shoot his load. He grunted and groaned beneath me, his lazy thrusts no match for my desperate ones. "Jesus fucking Christ, will you cum already?" I said to myself. I stole a look at the clock on the hotel bed side clock. 'Five minutes left. Time to end this.' I cringed and crept my hand around his thigh to his backside. God, I hated this part. I squeezed his cock at the same time I slipped my
“Three.” Lori smiled, dropping the envelope on the table.Monica nodded.“Two.”“Eighteen hundred.”“Twenty-six hundred.”“Another three.”Monica nodded after each amount, finally turning to me. “Gina?”I placed my fat envelope on the table and looked her in the eye. “Six thousand, four hundred fifty.” I slid it along the table to her.“Four hundred fifty? Where the fuck did the fifty come from?”“You shack me up in a hotel with a guy who takes longer to come than a porn star on Viagra, you pay the receptionist to keep it quiet.”“It’s a good fucking thing I like you, Gina. If you were anyone else, you’d be on your own with the shit you pull.” Monica opened the envelope and leafed through the amou
Fortunately for me, I had more than enough confidence. At least Christy Lopez did.Seattle Hotel. 8pm to meet, function at 8:30. Money on arrival. Receptionist Ruth is expecting you.I nodded once and threw my cell back on my bed to get ready. I knew the Seattle Hotel well. I’d been there several times before as a paid date. The functions were held in the largest room, and you had to be somebody to get in there. It was one of the most exclusive hotels in the city.I fixed my dark hair to the side, letting curls fall over my shoulder, and slipped my feet into some black heels. Diamond earrings glitter in my lobes, and after a coat of lipstick, I tucked it into my purse.I climbed into the waiting cab and stretched out my legs. A lick of nervousness flared inside me. Not knowing the client’s name before a date was always unnerving—especially when they were a last-
He studied me intensely. His tongue traced a path across his bottom lip, and my eyes flicked there before I could stop them. He smirked.“Mr. Stone?” a voice asked from behind the curtain.“Yes?”“Your father is asking for you, sir.”“Tell him we’ll be there momentarily.”“Of course.”George looked at me again and reached a hand across the table. His fingers curled around mine, sending jolts up my arm. “Gina, you don’t have to do this. You have a working name for a reason. I won’t ask you to jeopardize that for me.”I slid my hand from his and stood, smoothing out my dress. “You hired me to do this job, and I’m going to do it. Besides, I can’t have you being eaten alive by the vultures, can I? Huh!”His eyes lit up when his smirk turned dan
George wrapped his other hand around my neck and brought his lips to my forehead. Warmth and tingles travelled through me at the contact. It had been so long since I had a touch like that—tender, gentle, almost loving—that I almost forgot one of the rules of my life.No personal feelings for clients or any of their actions.“What are you doing?”“After politely dismissing herself from Mr. Wayne, my mother traveled across the room to Mrs. Roy. Once there, she will have proceeded to tell her the story of how we found each other again after seven long years of being apart, and isn’t it great how we’re reconnecting? And don’t we look so good together? And Mrs. Roy will have agreed and voiced how beautiful our babies would be,” he replied in a hushed tone with a hint of amusement. “And this will happen with every one of my mother’s friends throughout the night. I’m merely keeping her happy, Gina.
The teenage dreamer lingering inside me kind of wished we had snuck out for a make-out session. She remembered all too well the consuming feeling of George’s lips on mine.I did too. It was hard to forget something that made you feel so alive.“Do you think anyone else will bother us?”George turned his face back to me. “Of course they will.”Nope. I was done being bothered tonight. A tiny, crazy part of me wanted to savor these moments we have together, because I knew reality will intrude once more tomorrow.I curved my body into his. I slid my hands up his chest, feeling the solid muscle beneath, and curled my fingers around the lapels of his suit. He pressed me into him even farther until I was flush against him and lowered his mouth to my ear.“What are you doing?” His lips brushed over my earlobe as h
This was the very reason call girls don’t love. We don’t love, we don’t lust, and we don’t spend our days thinking, What if? Being a call girl is taking and giving without really giving any of yourself at all.I don’t give my name, my age, my likes or dislikes. I don’t give anything except what the client pays for, and there’s only one part of me they’re paying for. They don’t pay for the story of my parents’ deaths, of how I took this life because it was a quick and easy fix for me financially, or of how I dropped out of college and a chance at my dream career because this was so much higher paid.And isn’t everything about money?You pay me it,s to fuck you, and I take it. That money gives me pretty things—a house full of beautiful clothes and shoes—and that money gives you the time of you
She sat me at the kitchen table and leaned against the side. “Why the heck didn’t you tell me you knew him?” Of course. “He was an anon. I didn’t even know myself until I got there.” “An ex-boyfriend? Fuck, Gina. Why didn’t you get the hell out of there? “Rule one hundred seventy thousand and ten of being a call girl: you don’t run out on a client once you’re introduced. Ever.” I folded my arms across my chest. “I had a job to do, Monica. He paid, I delivered.” “No personal relationships!” “After hire!” I argued. “I haven’t seen George Stone for seven years and I never thought I would again.” Monica’s eyes flit across my face, examining every feature, and she finally relaxed. “Do you still have feelings for him?” “No.” “Good. Because he’s your client again.”
EpilogueFour Months Later“No, no, no!” I dropped my forehead to the table. “Why is this so hard for them to get right? Champagne and ivory are not the same color. The seat sashes are supposed to be champagne, not fucking ivory!”Brenda patted my shoulder. “There, there, Bridezilla. You have three months still to chew their asses out until they get it right.”“Brenda, with the amount George is paying them to get it right, I shouldn’t have to be chewing asses.” I sighed and straightened again. “This is crazy. Why can’t we just elope in some tropical country and get married without all this fancy crap?”My best friend laughed and shut the laptop down. “Okay, babe. Let’s get you a drink. You and I both know you wouldn’t want to have this any other way.”“I know. I just… I
I was not getting it out of him no matter how hard I tried. I knew he wouldn’t give anything away until he was good and ready, so I was stuck sitting here in my awkward limbo until he did. Stuck here, wondering, waiting, what-iffing.Our plates were cleared away and replaced with our main course. Again, it was eaten in silence, our eyes flitting from our plates to each other’s. The only difference was that there was a zinging of tension, one tight enough to cut, and I swallowed hard. My fork clattered as I placed it against my plate and looked at him firmly.“Do you want dessert?” he asked innocently, his steady voice betraying the tightness between us.“No. I want to know what this is.”“This? It’s dinner in the Eiffel Tower, sweetheart.”“No. What is it? Why are you doing it?”Geo
He prodded me in the side. “I think I found desires you weren’t aware of over the last few days.”Ah, this much wass true. Who knew having sex in front of a large bay window in the middle of the day was so fun?“I was very much aware of them. They’d just never been satisfied before now.”“They’ll continue to be satisfied, too.”“I should hope so.”He laughed quietly, burying his face into my neck. “Sit up. Let me wash your hair.”I did as he said, and he grabbed the showerhead from the little holder I placed it in for easy reach. When the water was the right temperature, I leaned my head back and let him wet my hair.“Ivan’s coming back to Seattle in a few weeks.”“He is?”“Hmm. He said he’ll call you to arra
“Again?”“Mhmm.”“Oh no.” I wrestled myself from him. “No, no, no!”I laughed, running through the apartment. And as I slammed the office door shut behind me, I realized my mistake.You never run from someone willing to stalk you until he can catch you.“Gina.” He hummed my name through the door. “Do I need to break the door down?”“That’s a habit for you.”“Open the fucking door. The longer you keep me waiting out here, the harder I’ll have to fuck you.”Oh, silly, silly man. When will he realized that, that was not a bad thing at all?I giggled and tapped out a random beat on the door. Truth was, I had no intention of letting George Stone fuck me right now.I planned to sit him on that fancy-ass leather chair an
“We are?” “Yes. You’re wearing my shirt again, and I believe it was some six hours ago I was promising to fuck you on my desk, so I suggest you get your ass into my office and hop up onto that desk pronto.” “You’re getting more demanding by the day, Mr. Stone.” I added some extra wiggle to my hips as I walked, and I was rewarded by a low growl of pleasure behind me. And punished with a sharp smack on my ass. “I never said anything about a demand. I’m requiring you get on my damn desk. Now move.” *** “Thank you.” George took a large envelope from someone and closed the door behind him. I watched from my slouched position on the sofa as he pulled a letter opener from the kitchen drawer and sliced the letter open. Because who doesn’t keep one of those in their kitchen?
It was ten in the morning and George still wasn’t up.That alone told me how much yesterday tired him. He was incapable of sleeping past six. Crazy man.I rocked my head from side to side. If I had any idea exactly what he was doing last night, I’d go into his office and finish it. As it was, I had no idea, so all I can was sit there like a freaking orange waiting to be juiced.I couldn’t read because my concentration wouldn’t last beyond a page. I had done my Candy Crush and Coin Dozer thing, and if I saw one more whining status post on Facebook, I’ll do one of my own.The sound of a phone ringing in his office cut through the silence, and I paused. Oh hell.I jumped down and ran into the room, barely blinking at the name on screen before answering. “Hello?”“Hello? Gi
I sat up, brushing hair from my face, and listened for any indication of him being around. There wasn’t any, so I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and made my way out of the room. The city lights flooded the front room, and I glanced at the clock. Three a.m. Where could he possibly be at this time? Something creaked in the direction of his office, and I walked down the hall to it. His door was cracked open slightly, and a gentle light from the television was flickering through the tiny gap. I wrapped my fingers around the edge of the door and eased it open, my eyes landing on his exhausted, shirtless figure. He was slumping over his desk, his fingers buried in his hair. His laptop was open in front of him, papers were scattered everywhere, some lying idly on the floor, and a desk light was illuminating the mess. “You should be in bed, asleep,” he mutte
“George!”“What does it say?” I looked at her. She bit her lip. “Rachel. Tell me now!”“She said that if you don’t pay within the hour, she’ll have it distributed to a large number of websites and presses ready to run a breaking news story first thing tomorrow. They’re waiting for her story.”“Will she fuck.” There was no wavering in his voice. Despite his lack of jacket and tie, George looked as serious as ever. “Rachel, get me her on the phone ten minutes ago.” He turned. “Alexander, get something drawn up that prevents her from contacting either Gina or me for the next fucking lifetime. This ends right now.”“George, you can’t pay her!” I wrenched myself from his mom’s grip. “Don’t be so fucking stupid!”He br
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, looking at my feet. Guilt and remorse—they flooded me. Consumed me.George pulled me into him and tilted my face back. “Look at me, Gina.”I shook my head. I couldn’t. Not this time. I couldn’t look in his eyes and know that everything we have was on the line. Everything he and his father have worked for was now hanging in limbo because of me.How many reporters have picked that up? How many stories will I see tomorrow? How many news alerts will pop up on my cell?“Gina.” His voice was hard. No-nonsense. “Look at me. Now.”My eyes disobeyed me. They raked up his body until they found a sea of bright blue.“We will figure this out. Do you understand me? It’s unexpected and sudden, but we will fix this.”Tears born of a real fea