A Gigolo for Christmas (7 page)

“I’ve been so caught up with
falling in love with your beautiful personality that it wasn’t until the middle
of the day on Thursday that I suddenly realized how beautiful you are on the
outside, as well.”

He kissed her deeply, and she
responded enthusiastically. He’d fallen in love with her, and he was more
interested in her insides than her appearance. Surely, with everything that had
gone wrong for her in the past year, Anders’ love was her reward for hanging on
to life and sanity. This love was the most wonderful thing that had ever
happened in her life, and she intended to grab on with both hands and not look
back. Nothing could spoil how she felt for him.

It was quite a while before she
became aware of anything existing in the world other than Anders’ kiss, and his
strong arms pressing her tightly against him.

When sanity and thought returned,
she realized she had questions about what he’d been saying before he’d melted
her bones with his kisses.

“I’m a little confused, though.
What has being attractive and fancy clothing got to do with getting a job?”

“Well,” Anders said, “I thought I
could probably get you on where I work. It’s evening hours, so you can keep
looking for another position, if you want. The work is easy, and pays well.
You’d need to get some dressy clothes for work, but between your wonderful
personality and your very attractive exterior, I’m sure you’d get a lot of
work, and be able to afford not only rent in a good place, but start getting
some furniture, too. Like a bookcase for your medical texts. You might even be
able to go back to school and finish becoming a doctor.”

“Actually, I was planning to
become a pharmacist, then move into naturopathic medicine. There aren’t many
naturopathic practitioners who also understand the chemistry side of
traditional western medicine, and there’s a lot more science involved in
herbistry than most people realize.”

“That sounds like a very
well-thought-out plan to me.”

“Working nights and going to
school days sounds pretty attractive to me, too. If I went back to school on a
part-time basis, then I’d have time for studying and sleeping as well as
working. Like you said, I’m sure I can get some dressy clothing at thrift
stores. Would you take me shopping, so I can get the right things?”

“I’d love to take you. Are you
free tomorrow? We can go shopping, then we can drop by a photographer and get
some pictures taken in your new finery. As soon as he’s processed the prints
for you, I’ll take you down to the office so you can show them your portfolio
and apply. I’m sure they’ll hire you.”

“Where exactly do you work? Is it
a modeling agency? It might be fun to be a model.”

“Actually, it’s an escort
service.”

“An...escort service. As in, you
get paid to go on dates with people?”

“Yes, but—”

“So you were paid to be Miss
Jacobson’s date to the party?”

“Yes, but--”

“No wonder you said you never
intended to see her again!” Sheila raged, not giving him a chance to say
anything. “I bet it hurt your paycheck when she didn’t give you a tip, didn’t
it? How did you get home from the party, since she left you without a car? I
can’t believe this! I’ve gone and fallen in love with a gigolo!”

She turned away from Anders, and
he grabbed her arm, stopping her flight.

“Sheila!”

She slapped his face, and as he
let go of her, she ran into the darkest part of the park she could see. He
followed her, but she crouched down and hid in the shadow behind one of the
sculptures.

He was easy to avoid, as
continued to call her name. She slipped in silence from one sculpture to the
next, keeping the large metal structures between them so he couldn’t spot her.

Her cell phone vibrated in the
pocket of her jeans. Grateful that the loud ringtone couldn’t give her away,
she ignored the vibrations. If she pulled the phone out, the light from the
screen and the sound of her voice would tell him where she was hiding. She’d
call whoever it was back later, once she’d gotten away.

Slowly, she worked her way toward
the edge of the park, heading for the train platform. If she took the train
several stops in the direction away from her home, it was unlikely that he’d be
able to find her. Although he certainly had both her home address and her cell
number, she needed time to calm down before she’d be able to face him again.

A gigolo! She couldn’t believe
it. She’d fallen for a male hooker, and one who not only worked for some
high-priced agency, but who thought she was so shallow that she’d like to work
there, too. No wonder he was such a good kisser, he’d obviously had plenty of
practice with his clients.

Well, he obviously didn’t know
her as well as he thought he did. Her virginity was a gift she was saving for
her husband. Someday. When she had one. No matter how bad things got, even if
she ended up living on the streets, she would never sell herself. Never.

“Sheila, I hope you can hear me.
I’m really sorry that I’ve upset you. Come out, and I’ll take you home. I can’t
just leave you alone in this neighborhood, it’s...please come out and let me
take you home. Even if you never want to see me again, at least I’ll know you
got home safely.”

Sheila’s heart tore at the
desperation in his voice. He sounded as though he really cared about her
safety. She slipped off into the darkness and made her silent way to the train
station. She was a big girl and could get home on her own. She didn’t need the
dubious protection of a gorgeous gigolo!

Sheila’s cell phone rang as she
pulled out of the driveway. She ignored it, letting the call go to voice mail.
She had a strict policy of not using her phone while driving. It was turning
out to be a wonderful day.

First, she’d gotten on with a
temp agency last Tuesday. After a week of filling in for sick receptionists,
she’d been called this morning and asked if she could start a long-term
assignment tomorrow. The position might even turn into being hired by the
company she’d be working for. She had agreed, especially since the work with
the construction company sounded interesting.

Yesterday she’d seen an ad for a
female roommate, and this afternoon she’d met with the owner of the house she’d
just left. She lived there, and rented out the three extra rooms to college
students. Wendy had told her she only rented to women, and that even though she
wasn’t a student, she was in the right age bracket, so she would let her have
the fourth bedroom. Although she would have to share the bathroom with two
other girls, she had free run of the rest of the house as long as she cleaned
up after herself.

She also had access to the
community swimming pool which was heated and just across the street, and the
clubhouse across the lake, which included a weight room. She’d have to pay the
community association $50 for a key to the weight room, but it was a one-time
charge for unlimited access to exercise equipment.

Not only that, but Wendy had been
sympathetic to her plight, and had told her she could make payments on her
deposit after she started getting her good paychecks from the new company.

 Now that she had a place to move
in to, she could set up a final inspection with Mr. Kooper. She still had two
weeks on her eviction notice, too, so it was possible that she could get that
rent back along with her security deposit.

The phone rang three more times
before she got home. She grabbed her mail, then stopped in the office to make
the appointment with Mr. Kooper. Climbing the stairs to her apartment, she
leafed through her mail. Mostly junk. Once inside, she dumped the junk into the
trash can and looked to see who had been calling her.

Anders. Again. She’d had to keep
her phone on vibrate at work, because he called her at random times throughout
the day. He was really beginning to be something of a pest, but she had to give
him points for persistence.

She still didn’t know what she
was going to say to him, and until she figured it out, she wasn’t about to pick
up the phone. She knew that it would be extremely difficult to ignore the
velvet tones of his voice. Maybe if she kept ignoring his calls, he’d give up.
After all, he had the opportunity to meet different women all week long at
work. Women who could afford to pay his rates.

Even though her heart was tender
where he had bruised it, and her body ached to be with him, she couldn’t stand
the thought of being with a man who could simply sell himself on a nightly
basis to the highest bidder.

She looked at the kitchen. Mr.
Kooper had said he could come over at eight to inspect. She could either eat
dinner now and then clean up, or she could take everything down to her car now,
wait for the inspection, and then take herself out to dinner on her way to her
new home.

She fingered the keys in her
pocket. The less mess she made now, the easier it would be to pass the
inspection. She went into her bedroom and stripped the bed, then pulled the
plug out of the end of it, allowing the air to whoosh out under its own power. She
grabbed the clothes hanging in her closet and draped them over her arm, then
headed for her car. It wouldn’t take long to put her belongings in the trunk
and back seat, and they would probably all fit, too.

By seven-thirty, she had cleared
everything out of the apartment, and done a good job of scrubbing it, too. She
always kept the place tidy, so the pre-move-out cleaning hadn’t taken much time
or work.

Mr. Kooper showed up at exactly
eight, and the inspection had been painless. Mr. Kooper had been amazed that
the holes in the walls had all been repaired, and that the carpet had been
cleaned so well. He almost seemed disappointed that she had gone to the work of
repairing the damage.

She thought the apartment complex
would rather have a place that could be rented again immediately, rather than
one which they needed to spend time repairing, that wouldn’t be bringing in any
money during the process.

They signed all the final papers,
and she gave him her new address so her deposit money could be mailed to her.
She had been right that the final month’s rent would be pro-rated and grudgingly
returned. She gave him her keys, and their business was complete.

She went to IHOP for dinner and
treated herself to French toast stuffed with strawberries and drowning in
strawberry syrup, along with a chocolate milkshake before heading home to her
new place. She’d start her new semi-permanent job in the morning and kiss the
last vestiges of her old life goodbye.
Including Anders
, her heart
reminded her with a pang. She steeled herself against the hurt. He hadn’t
called since six. Obviously he was working tonight.

Anders checked himself in the
mirror. His nicest going-to-court dark suit looked good on him. He hoped it
would lend him credibility as he argued the most important case of his life;
why Sheila should give him a second chance.

On the way to her apartment, he
purchased a dozen of the deepest red roses he could find. Deep red for the deep
and passionate love he felt for her. Although it had been nearly two weeks since
he’d seen her, not a minute had passed that she hadn’t filled his thoughts. In
preparation for tonight, he’d added research into her past to his usual daily
pursuit of the evidence which would clear his name and let him get on with his
life.

It was just four-thirty by his
watch as he walked slowly up the stairs to her apartment, using only the edges
of the treads so that they wouldn’t rattle and alert her to his presence before
she was confronted with his face at her door. He had the feeling he stood a better
chance of getting to plead his case if she was taken by surprise.

He knocked on her door, hoping
that she hadn’t moved yet. He knew there was still one week left before her
must-vacate date. The door swung open, revealing a very pretty blonde woman. “Hello?”
she said, confusion evident on her face.

Anders grimaced. “Sheila’s
already moved out, I take it?”

The woman smiled. “If Sheila is
the name of the person who used to live here, then yes, she has. I moved in
yesterday.” She eyed the vase of flowers Anders carried. “Guessing from the
flowers, I think she’s a mighty lucky lady. I hope you can find her and that
she accepts your apology.”

Anders was taken aback.

“How did you know I was here to
apologize?”

The woman laughed. “When a
gorgeous young man shows up bearing that many roses, but he doesn’t know his
girl has moved, there’s something in there he’s got to apologize for; otherwise
he’d have been helping her move, and he’d know where she lives now.”

Anders saw her point, and joined
in her laughter.

“You don’t happen to know where
she’s gone, do you?”

She shook her head. “No, but Mr.
Kooper, the manager might know.”

“Thanks, I’ll ask him.”

“You might want to leave the
flowers in your car while you talk to him. He doesn’t strike me as the romantic
type. But if you hurry, you might still catch him at the office. It doesn’t
close until five-thirty.