January (Calendar Girl #1) Anthology Anthology (136 page)

BOOK: January (Calendar Girl #1) Anthology Anthology
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“No Rach, no please. It’s not what it looks like,” I said, getting out of the bed stupidly clad only in a white lace wisp of fabric that could hardly be called panties and didn’t at all cover my ass, as well as the demi-cup matching bra that my breasts almost fell out of. If I leaned forward, I’m sure I’d have a nip slip. I yanked at the comforter and pulled it against my body.

Rachel pointed at me. “It looks like you had sex with my boyfriend. Which I guess I should have assumed would happen seeing as you’re a whore for hire!” she screamed her hateful words, and they hit my heart and soul exactly as intended. Like a fucking knife shredding through me bit by bit, slice by slice.

“Rachel, nothing happened!” Mason walked over to her and she held a hand out in a stopping motion in front of her form.

“I cannot believe I trusted you. A player. I thought you’d changed. You didn’t change. You just hid your true self really well.” She groaned and tears slipped down her face. “I was in love with you, Mason! I was going to tell you when Mia left and it was just us!” she screamed and sobbed at the same time. Then she turned on her heel and ran out of the room.

“You deserve each other!” she screamed behind her.

All we could hear was her heels hitting each step and then the door slamming shut.

 

Chapter 9

 

Mason ran his fingers through his hair and pulled at the roots. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. I can’t believe we slept together. Shit!” he paced the room.

I reached for my tank on the floor, pulled it over my head, and then grabbled for my pants. When he was turned away, I slid them up and over my hips. “Mason, we did not sleep together.”

He stopped and looked at me as if I’d said something supremely stupid and pointed to the bed. “Um, hello?”

I blew out a tortured, annoyed breath. I needed coffee and a handful of ibuprofen and quickly. The tiny men doing construction, drilling into my brain with their tiny little tools, while laughing at me for drinking so much last night, needed to go away so I could think straight. “No. We slept together, but we didn’t have sex. We were drunk as skunks. Believe me, I’d know if I’d gotten laid and I’m a hundred percent positive I didn’t.”

He looked at me from tip to toe. “Yeah, you would,” he grinned and I cringed. “Sorry. Fuck!” He said again obviously feeling like a jerk. “How the hell am I going to get her to believe me? She knows my history, Mia. This is just like the fucked up shit I’d do before her.” He slumped and sat down on the bed.

I sat down next to him. “Okay, this is what we’re going to do. We’re going to shower, get some food, coffee, and drugs into us,” his eyebrows rose. “Ibuprofen or Tylenol dumbass, and then we’re going to call her up. You’re going to grovel and explain that we were just drunk, didn’t fuck, and though it looked really bad, nothing happened but sleeping next to one another.”

He pushed his thumbs into his temples, his big hand spreading wide. “I remember fondling your tits and asking to fuck them.” He groaned and looked at me guiltily.

“Well, don’t tell her
that
part. That was just stupid drunk behavior and no one else saw it. Harmless.”

“Yeah, harmless,” he grumbled. His shoulders slumped over; he put his head in his hands, and elbows on his knees. He was the perfect vision of a man who’d lost his way, who thought the world was over.

I slid my hand up and down his warm bare back. “Do you love her?” I asked. His head shot up and his gaze focused intently on mine. He closed his eyes and nodded solemnly. “You have to tell her, Mace. It might be the only way to get yourself out of this bind.”

He blew air out his mouth, his cheeks puffing out with the effort. “She won’t believe me. I know Rach. She’ll think I’m saying it to save face. I should have told her the moment it hit me. Then she might believe it.”

Mason loved Rachel. Will wonders never cease? The chauvinistic, womanizing, player had come a long way since the day I arrived almost a month ago. “When did you know?”

He stood up and started pacing then went over to the window and observed the street below. “That first night we made love. It was…it just was, you know. It’s like I knew then that was the only woman I really wanted to be with forever. And I fucked it up. Christ!” He pulled back and slammed a flat hand to the wall. Thank God, he didn’t punch it or he’d be off the mound for the foreseeable future.

I walked over to Mace and set my forehead to his back. “We’re going to fix this. You’ll see. It will all be okay in the end.”

He shook his head. “Why do you believe that?”

“Because there is simply no other option. If she’s it for you, we have to find a way to make her see that. We’ll figure it out. Together, we’ll get your girl back. You’ve got to take chances in life. Go the way of the unknown.”

“Thanks, Mia. You’re a good friend.”

“I know,” I said then bumped his hip with my own. “So first step, showers, meds, food with tons of water, in that order.” I held out my hand for him to shake. He smirked at my outstretched limb probably thinking my antics were silly. “Deal?”

He grabbed my hand and shook it. “Deal.”

 

***

 

Getting access to Rachel was a lot harder than I thought it would be. I was leaving in two days and Mason had yet to talk to the elusive blonde. Every call I made to her went straight to voice mail where I repeatedly begged for her to call me back, to call Mason back, to listen to one of us. Nothing but crickets. The woman had a resolve of steel. I was starting to believe that she really wouldn’t give Mason another chance and that broke my heart.

Even though Rachel said some pretty hurtful things to me, I could understand why she said them. When you’re faced with losing everything you’ve ever wanted, you lash out. It’s normal and the brunette in bed with your boyfriend is a pretty good target. I deserved whatever and more of what she had to say. Though I didn’t like that she believed I was a whore. It was something I, too, struggled with as an escort. One who had sex with her first two clients. Of course, I didn’t with the last two, but she thought differently.

My cell phone rang and I picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Hey doll-face are you ready to move on to your next client?” Aunt Millie’s voice soothed over some seriously grated nerves like a calming lotion. The last couple of days I’d felt like crap knowing that Mason and Rachel were hurting, trying to accept my part in it, and do what I could to fix it, but not knowing how.

I sighed. “Actually, yeah, the sooner the better,” I said for the first time. I’d never wanted to move on as badly as I did right now. Escaping the problem seemed like a good idea at the time.

“What’s the matter, honey? The baseball hot shot not treating you well?”

I shook my head, but she couldn’t see it. “No, he’s cool. Once we got past all his scumbag ways and he learned a thing or two about how to treat a woman he’s been a lot of fun.”

Aunt Millie’s voice turned sultry. “Oh yeah, then I guess I should expect that additional payout to be sent any day now, eh?”

“Aunt Millie! Jeez, do you think I fuck every one of my clients?”

“Honey, you’re young, gorgeous, and an escort for incredibly rich, good looking men. Yes, of course, I think you’re going to get some of that. If I were in your shoes, I most certainly would. In the past, I definitely had my share of beautiful rich men.”

That’s when I sat down and worried my thumb nail. “You were an escort?”

“Doll-face, how do you think I know so much about this business, what to charge, who to send my girls too? Of course, I had to be one in order to run the most successful escort service in the nation. I’ve done it all sweetie, including having my share of clients, though back then, they didn’t pay extra. It was an expected part of the service. Now, as you know, I don’t run a brothel, I run a stand up business and pay Uncle Sam what he’s owed. Have my books audited regularly and keep a tight ship. If my girls want to go that extra step, it is expected that the men will accommodate such a gift by giving one of their own. You see, easy.”

“I see. I guess I just thought you ran a business.”

“I do. But twenty years ago, that shoe you’re wearing was on my foot. Only I wasn’t so smart.” At this, I paid very close attention to what she was saying. “Back then, I met and fell in love with one of my clients and he screwed me over.” One could say that history was definitely repeating itself with her niece, only I wouldn’t quite agree to having fallen in love with Wes…yet. Aunt Millie continued, “Now, I treat men the same way they treat women. As something to enjoy while they’re there. Nothing more, nothing less. No expectations for more, just a good time and a lot of pleasure.”

This thought had merit. It’s what I’d been trying to do myself and failing at because my heart was too tangled in the particulars. With Wes, I was knee-deep in emotional turmoil. With Alec, it was fun, pleasurable and something I didn’t feel as though I had left behind or lost, because it was never mine to begin with. When Alec and I were together we enjoyed it immensely. Outside of our time together we moved on to the next thing that gave us joy, with absolutely no guilt or concern for the other because we didn’t have that type of relationship.

I wished I was able to do that with Wes. And right then and there I promised myself I would put that wall back up and make it so. When it was Wes and me, it was amazing, incredible even. Best I’d ever had in terms of spending time with someone I cared for. Alec, he was a close second. Though with Alec, we both just knew it was for a short time, which made it wildly passionate and something to hold on to as a beautiful memory. When it was Wes, it felt fraught with meaning, complex with feelings and emotions neither one of us should have placed on one another. That’s where we went wrong. Because Wes and I together were automatically more. Somehow, some way, a delineation needed to be made, lines cut and crossed so that we’d stop hurting one another. Of course, it was another problem I had no hope of solving today in my current predicament with Rachel and Mason.

Taking a deep breath, I firmed my own resolve. “You’re right. Thanks for the advice.”

“Of course,” she said and I could hear her nails clacking on the keys through the receiver. “Sorry the baseball thing didn’t work out. That had to be a long month.”

I grinned, thinking back to Alec. “Technically, I met up with an old friend when we were in Seattle.”

“Oh, sounds like you had a good time with that old friend.”

“True.” Wanting to change the subject because I didn’t know what the rule was about meeting back up with your clients as it pertained to the business side of things, because what Alec and I had, and last month what Wes and I had, was personal, private, and had nothing to do with me being an escort. “You gonna keep me in suspense about where I’m going next?”

“Oh my dear child, this is going to be fun. Ever been to Hawaii?”

Surf, sand, and suntan lotion. “Seriously? I’m going to Hawaii?”

“Yes, doll-face and get this you’re going to be a model!”

I groaned. “Like I was for Alec?” It was fun being a muse, but that experience tore into my subconscious and the issues of my past. The last thing I needed was another round like that on the job.

More clacking could be heard and then she tsked. “No honey. You’re going to be modeling swimsuits for this top fashioner designer in swimwear. His name is Angel D’Amico. He wanted you because he’s followed you in the smut mags. Seen that you’re getting attention and making the rounds with some pretty big names. This does well for someone who’s bringing something new to the table in his profession. Not to mention he’s making suits for real women.”

“How so?”

“His line doesn’t start out at a size zero; it starts at a six and goes up from there. He wants more curvy woman in his ads. Women with some meat on their bones. You know a woman with a pair of breasts that couldn’t fit into a two inch speck of triangle shaped fabric. He loved that you were a 36D cup in the bust and were a classic hourglass shape. He has some motto about proving beauty comes in all sizes or something to that affect.”

Huh. That actually sounded really cool. A fashion designer that was actually focused on more realistic sizes. “Sounds like fun. Plus…Hawaii! Awesome,” I started dancing around my room not believing I was headed to an island.

“It’s going to be a long flight sweetheart. Six hours from Boston then another five from California. Want a layover in California for a couple days, hit your home.” I thought about Wes and how I could see him if he wasn’t on location. Then instantly tossed that idea out the window. It would just make more drama, more emotional crap to think about. No, I wanted to have fun, enjoy Hawaii. Hook up with some random island dude for the sole purpose of fucking his brains out. Yep, that was going to be my new plan.

“No, make the layover for two nights in Vegas so I can see Maddy, Ginelle, and check in on Dad.” Gin had told me that Maddy was close to taking the plunge with her new beau and I thought she might need her big sis around for some face-to-face time. “I’ll make sure Gin sets up the appointments again for the required beauty stuff.”

Aunt Millie sucked in a breath that seemed to skate through her teeth with a hissing sound. “About that. You’re going to have get waxed.”

“I always do,” I reminded her.

“No honey, I mean
everywhere
. Full brazillian. You’re going to be doing bathing suits. There can be no tuffs of hair peeking out or against the fabric showing when you’re shooting in the ocean.”

I groaned. “That sucks. And it’s going to hurt.” It was as if I could already feel the strips of sticky goo being slathered onto my sensitive parts then being ripped away. Ouch!

“Yes, doll-face it does. But the good news, the designer is a fifty year old Italian. Married to an ex-model named Rosa who works with the girls. And you’re not going to be on point every second. You’ll work a standard day or two modeling then have most the week off. I know they have around one to two shoots per week planned. The rest of the time will be yours. Even confirmed that you’ll be staying in a rented two bedroom bungalow right on the beach.”

BOOK: January (Calendar Girl #1) Anthology Anthology
12.5Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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