NicI pull open the microwave, and the smell of leftover pasta sauce makes my mouth water. There’s only one small serving left over from my date with Elle, and I figure I might as well eat it while I’m still in this post-Elle happiness haze. It feels a little like being drunk. Like I’m invincible.
Like nothing in the whole fucking world can touch me.
The only thing keeping this feeling from being the best thing ever? My dick. He’s not happy with how last night ended.
Okay, maybe he’s not the only one.
I’m not sure how much longer I can keep this up. I wanted her so badly last night. Walking her to her car instead of pounding her into a wall left me
with a major case of blue balls. The worst part is I could tell that she wanted me too, and that only made the whole situation—and my cock—ten times harder.
She didn’t look upset when I didn’t take her to my bed, but I could tell she was confused. And the whole “I’m just a gentleman waiting for the right time” excuse will only work for so long. If I’m not careful, she’ll start to suspect that something’s up. And if she finds out the truth about me, only one thing will happen. I’ll lose her.
There’s no way I’m ready to let that happen. Not when I’ve finally found a sweet, cool, normal girl who checks off every box on my list.
I spoon the now warm leftover sauce onto a plate of cooked pasta just as my phone starts buzz- ing in my pocket. My brow furrows, and I set my plate down to answer it. Who the fuck is calling me on a Sunday afternoon?
My stomach drops when I see the name on the screen. Christine.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Hey, Christine, how are—”
“What the hell are you doing with Elle?” Her
voice is angry, but firm. She’s trying to keep it un- der control. But there’s an edge to it that tells me she could lose it at any moment.
“Look, Christine, I—”
“No, Nic, you listen to me. I don’t know what you think you’re doing with her, but whatever it is, it’s not right. You were hired for one thing only— accompanying her to my wedding. Which was two weeks ago.”
I clench my jaw, pushing my hand roughly through my hair. “I know. You’re right. But I have to be honest with you. I really like her. More than I expected to.”
“She would never be with you if she knew what you were. You need to end this. I never would have set you up with her if I’d known you’d do some- thing as fucked up as this.”
“Christine—”
But before I can finish, she hangs up, and the
call disconnects. “Fuck.”
I throw my phone onto the table and bury my face into my hands. She’s right. Christine is fuck- ing right. I’m a horrible person. I can’t believe I’m
doing this to Elle.
What the fuck is wrong with me? How did I think this was going to end?
That invincible feeling I had earlier? Fucking gone. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to think that I was the right guy for Elle.
My phone chimes again, and I let out a low groan. I don’t think I can take any more from Christine. She’s made her fucking point. I’m a shitty person who’s ruining her best friend’s life. Crystal fucking clear.
But it’s not Christine. It’s Elle.
Had such a good time with you last night. How’s your Sunday going?
I groan again. How the fuck am I supposed to respond after just getting chewed out for messing with her head? I can’t.
For a moment, I weigh my options. Then I real- ize if I were to tell her how this all started—that her best friend hired me to pretend to adore her—she would never believe that anything between us was real. Even though these are the most real feelings
I’ve had in years.
But my feelings don’t matter anymore. I have to set them aside and disappear from Elle’s life. That’s the only way to end this without doing any more damage.
Instead of responding to Elle, I pull up Case’s number.
Hey, I need the week off to sort through some personal things.
I’ve barely hit SEND when Case immediately calls me, his anger practically burning a hole in my ear through the phone.
“What the fuck is going on with you? What do you mean you need a full fucking week off?”
“Look, Case, I just can’t do this right now. I need some time to clear my head. All I’ll be able to do in my current state is freak our clients out.”
“No, Nic, you need to man the fuck up. I can’t keep giving you time off with no notice. How am I supposed to explain to the other guys why they should keep covering your shifts? This is so unpro- fessional, dude. It’s not like you.”
“In my professional opinion, I’m not fit to see
any clients this week.”
“Why the fuck not?” he roars.
I pull the phone away from my face, rage ball- ing my hand into a fist. The last thing I want to do is open up to Case right now. I don’t need to tell him what’s going on. It’s my fucking life, and he needs to back the hell off.
I take a deep breath before responding. “I just can’t, okay?”
Case snorts in frustration, muttering a string of curse words under his breath. “You’re unbeliev- able, Nic. Fucking unbelievable.” He hangs up, and the line goes dead.
Nothing like being hung up on twice in a ten- minute time frame.
I can’t reply to Elle, so I do the only thing I can—I delete her text and turn my phone to silent.
No longer hungry, I dump my now cold food into the trash.
Instead of sitting on the couch and stewing in my frustration, I decide to go for a run through the park near my house to clear my head.
By the time I get back home, things are slightly more lucid. I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do about Christine, or Elle, or my job, but there is one thing I decided during my run.
I can’t let Esther down. It’s Sunday, and the thought of her waiting alone at the country club entrance makes my stomach knot up.
I shoot off a text to Case to let him know I’ll be there tonight, to which he replies with the thumbs- up emoji.
After throwing on a clean pair of khakis and a crisp button-down, I drive to the country club, where Esther is as kind and pleasant as ever. I do my best to pay attention to her, giving the usual answers about my fake job and friends, but I’m dis- tracted. Elle keeps texting me, and I keep ignoring her.
She was patient and understanding at first, but it’s not like me to treat her this way. It doesn’t take long for her to realize that something’s up.
Is everything okay? Was it some- thing I said or did?
At least let me know you didn’t die in your sleep.
Seriously, Nic? After everything that’s happened, you’re just not going to respond to me?
It’s killing me to leave her hanging like this.
But I don’t know what else I can do.
When I leave the country club, I drive straight home. I’m not normally the kind of guy to just roll over and give up. But after how this day has gone? I’m ready to spend some quality time on my couch with a bottle of something strong to drown out these fucked-up thoughts running through my head.
And once I get home, that’s exactly what I do. After flipping the TV to whatever sports reruns look halfway decent, I change out of my work clothes, grab a couple of cold beers, and stare at the flat screen until my eyes go blurry.
Around ten thirty, a banging on my door shakes me from my trance. My stomach tightens. For a moment, I wonder if it’s Elle. And I know if I see her right now, there’s no telling what I’ll do.
“It’s Case, man. Open up.”
Fuck.
“Not a good time, Case. I don’t want to talk.”
“Nic, open this door, or I swear to God, I’ll fire you first thing tomorrow.”
I open the door to find Case standing there, a
scowl on his face and a six-pack in hand.
“Jesus, Nic, you look like shit. Did you see Es- ther looking like that?”
“Good to see you too.”
Case brushes past me and puts the six-pack on my kitchen counter, then cracks open a bottle for each of us. He takes a swig before forcefully set- ting his bottle back down on the granite, gesturing for me to sit and looking me dead in the eye, his face stone-cold serious.
“We need to talk.”
I shrug. “I said what I needed to on the phone. I just need a little time off to clear my head and refocus.” Not to mention, I’m pretty sure the only woman I’d be able to get my dick up for is Elle. So, honestly, what fucking good am I right now to his clients?
Case sets down his beer and continues star- ing at me. “Listen, pretty boy. When I hired you, I knew women would line up to drop their panties for a chance to hop into bed with you. But I also knew you weren’t really cut out for this life. You’re the kind of guy who eventually meets the right girl and wants to settle down. Is that what’s going on right now? With Elle?”
Fuck. I sigh and push my hands through my hair. How does he know all this?
“I don’t know. Maybe. But she doesn’t know what I am, what I do for a living. She’d never be with me if she knew the truth.”
“You don’t know that until you talk to her about it. Don’t underestimate her. If she’s as awesome as you say she is, I bet she’ll get it.”
“I kind of doubt that.”
We pause, quickly downing our beers. Case changes the subject as we keep drinking, and by beer three, we’re laughing and talking about the early days, when he first hired me. I had no idea what I was doing or what the job actually was. Be- coming a professional escort had a steep learning curve, but it was one hell of a ride.
“Remember when that cougar tried to tie you
up without discussing it as part of your contract first? You were such a naive little pup. So many things to learn.” Case laughs, shaking his head.
“I was into it, man! That was all good.” He chuckles, shaking his head.
“Let’s just not talk about that first time I was
with Gia,” I say, smirking.
Case laughs out loud. “I still have that fucking email. It’s hilarious.”
I roll my eyes. “Ha-ha, motherfucker.”
“Yeah, well, you learned quick. One of our best guys, really.”
He claps a hand on my shoulder, and we smile at each other. My head is starting to swim a little from the beers, but it’s clear enough for worry and doubt to creep in.
“I don’t know what else I could do for work.
This job is all I’ve ever known.”
“Eh, you’ll figure it out. You’re a smart guy.
Plus, who could say no to that pretty face of yours?”
“If I can’t actually do the work? Lots of peo- ple.”
Case laughs, remembering another job I botched back in my early days. I laugh along with him while he recounts the story, but in the back of my mind, all I can think about is Elle.
I was serious when I said there’s nothing else I can do besides this job. My résumé won’t be win- ning anyone over, that’s for sure. And I’ve only known Elle for a few weeks now.
How can I change my entire life for a shot with a girl—no matter how amazing or perfect she seems for me—when I have no idea if we’ll even work out once she learns the truth about me?