Pretend To Be Mine

by C. Morgan

  “A hotel.”

  “Pardon?”

  He leaned forward and glared at me. “Where do you think I’m going to take her? To a hotel, obviously. I only want two hours. How much for the cheapest girl for two hours?”

  “No.”

  “No?” he asked incredulously. “What the fuck do you mean, no?”

  I closed my laptop. “I mean I won’t be doing business with you. We do not sell sex here. If that’s what you’re looking for, you’ll need to find another establishment.”

  “You don’t sell sex here?” He laughed and shook his head. “You’re an escort service! You’re glorified hookers! Don’t play hard to get with me. Find me a girl. Bring her out here. Someone half your size. A redhead is fine. I don’t really care.”

  Victoria straightened up beside me. “Get out.”

  His eyes slid to her. “You’d do. Nice long legs. A bit of fire. I like that.”

  I got to my feet. “You heard her. Get out of my office.”

  He was on his feet too now and he stood a foot and a half taller than me. He braced himself on my desk with his hands balled into fists. I heard his knuckles cracking as they pressed against the wood. “Listen here,” he growled. “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, talking to me like that, but you’re going to give me what I want. I’ve had a rough few weeks and I need to take out my frustration. So bring me a girl. Now.”

  “You will not be getting any frustration out with any of my girls, you ignorant dipshit,” I hissed. “You can’t bully me into giving you what you want. I’m not afraid of egocentric men like you who think the purpose of a woman is to bend to your will. I do not bend.”

  Victoria stepped up beside me for backup.

  His eyes flicked back and forth between us. Then he started to laugh.

  Victoria picked up the phone. “Get out or I’m calling the police.”

  He jabbed a finger in my face. “Do you really think I’m the egocentric one? You’re the one selling sluts for money and you think I’m the one who’s got it twisted? Please. This isn’t a business. This is a front. I know what you are.”

  “I’m the woman who’s not taking your bullshit,” I spat. I stepped out from behind my desk and went toe to toe with him. I’d been here before, glaring up at a man two times my size ready to throw down. On more than one occasion, I had thrown down. I was more woman than a lot of men knew what to do with. They couldn’t throw me around like they would Victoria. I knew how to use my body to my advantage. I had hips and thighs made for kicking ass. “You think you know me? Oh no, darling, I know you. You’re a sad little man who gets his kicks by taking a small, innocent woman behind a locked door and having his way with her. Does that make you feel strong? Huh? Does it make you feel like you’re a somebody when you manhandle a girl a fraction of your size and scare her half to death? Do you like weaker targets because the bigger ones like me aren’t afraid of you?”

  His eyes flicked back and forth between mine.

  “What?” I snarled. “Nothing to say now?”

  Victoria let out a nervous sound behind me. “Nat.”

  “Call them,” I said. “Tell them we have a fat bastard with a low IQ threatening our staff and yes, we will be pressing charges for trespassing if he doesn’t leave in the next three seconds.”

  The man stepped closer. I didn’t back down.

  Victoria started dialing.

  “Fine,” the stranger growled. “Have it your way.”

  He stormed toward the door.

  I called after him. “Make sure to leave us a good Google review, you jackass!”

  Victoria hung up the phone and promptly jabbed me in the ribs with two fingers.

  “Ouch!” I massaged the tender spot where she’d almost skewered me.

  “Are you crazy?” she hissed.

  I flashed her a devilish grin. “A little bit.”

  Chapter 8

  Rylen

  Cora shouldered her backpack as she waited for me to get her jacket and teddy bear out of the back seat of the truck. We walked hand in hand from where I’d parked at the curb to the gate at the end of Logan and Mona’s driveway. It was unlocked in the anticipation of our arrival, so I shouldered it open and held it ajar with my boot resting against the base so Cora could shuffle in ahead of me. Her backpack, weighed down with who knew what from school, nearly toppled her over as we made our way up the drive and down the path that led from the driveway, across the lawn, and to the bottom of the stairs of the front porch.

  Logan’s house—Logan and Mona’s house now—was an impressive restored colonial with dark blue shutters and a turquoise front door. Mona had always talked about having a turquoise front door. It was her favorite color. We’d never gotten around to those odd jobs when we had a place together but she’d seen to it now that she was with him. Their Christmas wreath was already up. Two pre-lit Christmas trees sat on either side of the welcome mat that read “Ho Ho Ho, I hope you brought wine.”

  Cora tried the handle. It was unlocked. She pushed the door open and hollered into the belly of the house that she was home.

  I resented that word on my daughter’s lips when referring to this place. I swallowed that resentment as I heard footsteps. Cora stepped into the foyer and dropped her backpack. I stayed out on the welcome mat, half the words cut off beneath the soles of my boots.

  Logan came around the corner from the sitting room. He called over his shoulder to his fiancée that Cora and I were here, after which he turned a friendly smile my way.

  “Hey, Rylen,” he said. He always reminded me of a customer-service representative whenever we spoke. I knew he wanted me to like him and most likely forgive him, but I wasn’t anywhere close to either of those things. “How’s it going?”

  It’d be better if you weren’t here. “Good. You?”

  Logan ran a hand over his head. When I’d first met him, he had messy dark curls and facial hair. Now that Mona had sunk her clutches into him, his hair was trimmed short and he was clean shaven. “Can’t complain. Mona’s keeping me busy with Christmas coming and the wedding stuff. You know how it is.”

  “Sure do. I married her.”

  Logan laughed lightly and his eyes flicked from me to the teddy bear in my hands and Cora’s jacket. “I’ll take those.”

  I held them out to him.

  He set them down on the bench to the right of the door. Above it hanging on the wall was a picture of him, Mona, and Cora from last Easter when they’d had family photos taken in the front yard of this house.

  Mona appeared at the top of the stairs. I tried not to look up at her as she descended. I’d always thought she was beautiful ever since the first moment I saw her when I was still in veterinary school. She’d been visiting friends on campus. I could still remember the summer dress she was wearing with little white daisies all over it and her strappy red sandals. Today, some ten years later, she wore white jeans and a red turtleneck and looked just as good. Her dark brown hair was cut short, just below her chin, and bangs framed her heart-shaped face.

  She smiled as she came to the door. “Morning, Ry. Thanks for dropping her off. Where’d she run off to?”

  “Probably looking for Bruce,” Logan said, referring to his dog.

  “Ahh, of course,” Mona said. She wrapped her arms around herself and nodded at me. “Can I talk to you on the front step for a minute?”

  Logan bowed out. “I’ll bring Cora’s stuff to her room.”

  Mona thanked him with a kiss on the cheek before stepping out onto the front porch with me. She pulled the door closed behind her.

  I waited for her to speak. I wasn’t going to get the ball rolling here.

  Finally, she did. “Did you two have a good week?”

  “We always do,” I said.

  She nodded slowly. “Right, of course you do. Did you get up to anything new?”

  “What do you want to talk to me about, Mona?”

  Mona’s brow furrowed. She looked at me the way s
he used to look at me when I was teasing her—like she didn’t have time for my nonsense. Like she’d rather be anywhere else but there. At the time, I’d thought I was being comical. She used to love my humor. She’d laugh along with me but I lost track of when all that changed.

  Mona crossed her arms. “Why haven’t you responded to my email? It’s been five days. I was kind of hoping to hear from you since, you know, I’m planning a wedding and all and the questions I asked are kind of time sensitive.”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  “We’re all busy, Rylen. I’m planning a wedding for crying out loud. Don’t you know how stressful it is to plan a wedding? I’m trying to get all the last-minute details sorted out and you’re what, sitting on your thumbs hoping it will all just go away?”

  Kind of.

  I rolled my eyes at her. She hated when I did that. “I planned a wedding with you, Mona. So yes, I remember how stressful it can be.”

  She scowled at me. “So throw me a bone, then.”

  I sighed. Wasn’t I the one who deserved the bone? Wasn’t I the one who’d been kicked in the balls a dozen times over? Wasn’t I the one who was owed a bit of grace and forgiveness?

  Apparently not.

  “I’ll take Cora on the nights you asked for,” I said, referring to the night before the wedding, the wedding night, and the night after. “And if you need any other nights, I can take her then, too. It’s not like I’ll have anything else to do. At least having Cora will keep me sane.”

  “Don’t be like that.”

  “Be like what?”

  “Sassy.”

  I laughed. “Okay, Mona. I’ll slap on a smile and act like the jolly son of a bitch you think I should be while you walk down and marry that clown.”

  “Don’t,” she warned.

  I slid my hands in my jean pockets and shrugged. “You wanted to talk. Not me. This is what happens when I talk about this shit.”

  She sighed and massaged her temples. “I just want things to go smoothly. Promise me they’ll go smoothly?”

  “Why wouldn’t they?”

  “I don’t know.” The words came out of her in a rush. She let her hands fall to her sides where they slapped against her thighs. “If you can’t handle being there, then you should have told me that in the beginning. I would have understood.”

  I’d considered it. I’d seriously considered it. No part of me wanted to go to this wedding. I’d much rather have stayed home that week and wallowed in my self-pity while the woman I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with married another man.

  But no. I’d told her I’d go and I had my reasons.

  I lifted my chin. “I stand by what I told you. I think it’s important I’m there. I can’t change any of this. I want you to be happy even if I don’t act like it, Mona. And I think it’s important that Cora knows I support you and Logan. The last thing either of us wants is for her to feel like we’re any less of a family because we’re not what we used to be, and me staying home and sitting the wedding out will send the wrong message.”

  Mona swallowed and looked at her feet. “I agree.”

  I turned my back on her and faced the driveway. Soon, in less than a week I imagined, this place would be illuminated with Christmas lights. Logan would put up the light-up Santa on the roof, which looked like it was creeping toward the chimney with a sack of gifts over his shoulder. He’d put the giant red sleigh in the front yard and attach the row of twinkling reindeer. He’d add the fake snow around their hooves and line the driveway in candy canes, and Cora would fall in love with the magic of it all and likely ask me why we couldn’t decorate my house like that.

  And like last year, I wouldn’t have an answer for her.

  Mona stepped up beside me. “Have you confirmed your room at the hotel?”

  “Yes.”

  She nodded. “Good.”

  I leaned up against one of the posts on the porch railing. “Anything else?”

  “No.”

  “I’ll swing by next weekend and pick her up. Same time. Tell her goodbye for me?”

  “You should tell her,” Mona said as I went down the porch steps.

  I shook my head. “Nah, we don’t like saying goodbye. It makes her sad every time. Just… give her a hug for me. And remind her she can call me anytime.”

  “I’ll tell her.”

  I could feel Mona’s eyes on my back as I made my way down the path to the driveway. I opened the door of my truck and stepped up into the cab.

  “Hey, Ry?” Mona called.

  I paused and turned back to her.

  She stared at me and I stared back at her. Whatever it was that she’d wanted to say seemed to have gotten stuck in her throat. She rubbed her lips together and shook her head. “I’ll see you next Saturday.”

  “Yeah. See you.” I closed the door behind me and kept my eyes on my rearview mirror as I reversed out of the drive.

  My weeks without Cora always felt ten times longer than the weeks I had her, and this was always the worst part.

  Driving away.

  Chapter 9

  Natalie

  After a Sunday well spent housekeeping, grocery shopping, meal prepping, cuddling Muse, and gearing up for the week ahead, I was happy to be back at the office on Monday afternoon taking bookings. The Christmas season was the busiest time of year for my business and men were coming out of the woodwork looking for last-minute dates with my girls. Most of them, I could accommodate. Others were out of luck and had waited too long to find a companion for their special event. I was able to refer those men to other escort services in the San Francisco area with girls I felt confident referring business to.

  While I manned the front desk, my staff worked tirelessly all around me to decorate the office for Christmas.

  Victoria spearheaded the operation. She’d gone a bit wild after Christmas last year and splurged on some new decor for the office that hadn’t seen the light of day all year. It had been packed away in neatly labeled totes in our storage room. Now that she and the three girls in the office today had the totes out, they were getting giddy with the Christmas spirit.

  They’d started their work on the two front windows and the door. They’d strung up red and white lights—apparently the traditional rainbow Christmas lights clashed with our aesthetic—as well as curtains of silver and gold tinsel in front of the plush red curtains. They’d attached sparkly red ornaments to the end of fishing wire and hung them from the curtain rod and I had to admit it looked quite charming. My business was turning into a sexy little Christmas corner before my very eyes.

  Victoria’s heels clicked across the floor as she came around the curtain from the back with a candle in her hands. She set it down on my desk. “For you, my love.”

  I pulled the lid off and took a whiff of the white three wick candle. “Peppermint? You know me too well.”

  She stooped over and opened my top drawer and rummaged around until she found a lighter. She flicked it on and lit the candle for me. The flames danced as she nudged it to the top right corner of my desk beside my glossy black name plaque.

  I spun around in my chair and leaned back. “How’s it going back there? Having any luck agreeing on how to decorate?”

  “Anya has terrible taste, so we’re ignoring her,” Victoria said.

  Anya’s voice came from behind the curtain. “I heard that!”

  Victoria and I snickered.

  “You don’t think you’re maybe just a bit of a control freak?” I asked.

  Victoria pressed a hand to her chest. “Me? A control freak? Never.”

  I turned back to face my computer. “Ahh, yes, why would you, an only child and type-A personality, have control issues?”

  “I see it as an advantage, not a detriment.”

  “So do I,” I agreed.

  Anya’s voice came again from behind the curtain. “It’s a detriment to those around you, Vic. Like me and Moira.”

  I giggled as the scent of pepperm
int began filling the office. “The people have spoken.”

  Victoria rolled her eyes. “The people don’t know what they’re talking about. Now I’m going to go back there and make sure they haven’t filled a bowl with ornaments or some shit.”

  I frowned. “I think that looks pretty.”

  “It’s basic, Nat,” Victoria said as she strode through the curtain. “Basic!”

  It was impossible not to smile while I worked on the upcoming December schedule. The girls giggled and bickered on the other side of the curtain while I booked appointments and shuffled things around to try to meet the demand of new clients. Some men weren’t particular about who they took to their Christmas parties. They just wanted someone who would keep them company, smile, make nice with their colleagues, and look good in a dress.

  Others, like one of our long-term regulars, Richard Tine, had only one request: that he never took the same girl out more than once. This sometimes required some juggling on my part. He’d used my services almost a dozen times and we were closing in on only having four girls left standing for him to take out. Either I’d have to grow my staff or start outsourcing for him. I wasn’t opposed to the latter but the former was more preferable.

  It just meant I needed more space. More resources.

  All in due time, I told myself as I watched the flames flicker and dance in the frosted-white candle jar.

  The phone rang.

  “You have Natalie at On His Arm, how can I help you today?”

  There was a considerable pause on the other end of the line.

  I strained my ears, listening for breath or background noise. “Hello?”

  “Hi, sorry. Uh, you said your name was Natalie?” He sounded uneasy. A first-time caller for sure.

  “That’s me,” I said. “Are you looking for someone else?”

  “No,” he said hurriedly. “No, I was calling to talk to you. A friend of mine referred me. His name is Grady Black.”

  Ahh, yes. So this was Grady’s friend—the guy being dragged through the muck and going to his ex-wife’s wedding in Paris in a few weeks.