Holiday Escort: A Christmas Novella

by Williams, Shanora

  “You really have, even to Mom and Dad,” Lena agrees.

  “I have to agree with them, sweetie. Is something wrong? Did you and Tony breakup?” Mom whispers the last question.

  “Mom!” Bailey exclaims.

  “What!? I’m only asking! It seems like that’s what it is!”

  “Wait… you were dating someone?” I ask, brows dipped. “How the hell didn’t I know this?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Bailey grumbles.

  “Ohhh… it’s Tony,” Lena fills in. “You’re upset he bailed for the holidays.”

  “He didn’t bail on me,” she snaps at Lena.

  “So then what is it?”

  “Oh my God!” Bailey rushes away, storming down one of the aisles. We all look at one another, confused as hell. But before we can push the cart to follow after her, she’s back, and with a box in her hand.

  We all gasp as she waves it in the air. “This is why he’s not here. Because I told him I wasn’t ready to tell you guys and he wanted to brag about it.”

  “Oh, Bailey. Sweetie. Why didn’t you say anything to me?” Mom rushes forward, lowering the pregnancy test that’s in her hand and then cupping her face. “No wonder you’ve been so moody—and so sleepy. You went to bed so early last night. You’re usually the last one up.”

  “Actually, last night I was really tired of dealing with you guys,” she jokes.

  Lena and I laugh and Mom playfully smacks her shoulder. “Oh, honey! But this is exciting news! Why wouldn’t you bring Tony to celebrate this blessing?”

  “Because… Tony and I aren’t married… and I was afraid of how Dad would react more than anything. You know how he is about having kids before marriage.”

  “Oh, to hell with your father,” Mom says, frowning. “He doesn’t control your body. He can talk all he wants but it changes nothing. This baby is something special and you might as well start to cheer up about it because we’re telling him as soon as we get home.”

  Bailey whips her head up to look Mom in the eye. “As soon as!?”

  Mom steps back, nodding. “Yep. Don’t worry.” She waves a hand. “We’ll get a few drinks in him and then we’ll tell him. So more like as soon as he’s a little tipsy,” she amends.

  Lena shakes her head. “Well, now I don’t feel too bad about not getting people gifts this year,” she says.

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “We get a niece, Mom and dad get another grand, and Bailey gets a baby! That’s a gift for everyone.”

  I snort. “You are seriously the worst, Lena.”

  “Hey. I have two kids to worry about. We’re all adults here. Besides, it’s not about the presents. It’s about spending time with family and enjoying the small things.”

  I scoff as I look down at the comic book collection. “Sometimes,” I murmur. “But even the smallest gifts count.”

  Lena looks at me, her eyes gentle. Maybe she really is turning over a new leaf. Compared to last year, she’s been quieter, a little more reserved. She seems more relaxed.

  “Guess what?” Lena whispers as Mom carries on a conversation about baby names with Bailey, who constantly rolls her eyes.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Dexter called as soon as my head hit the pillow last night.” She grins like a love-stricken maniac.

  I gasp. “Really? See, I knew he would!”

  “It was so great to hear his voice,” she sighs. “And I woke the twins up so they could talk to him. Of course they were half asleep, but as soon as they heard their Daddy’s voice, they perked right up. Jana cried because he couldn’t be here, which killed me to see.” She glances at Jana and Joey, and I look over, watching them argue over a board game. “But all in all, it was the greatest gift I could ask for.”

  “That’s great, Lena. I’m so happy for you.”

  “And I’m happy for you, Piper. I really am. I think with Matthew by your side, you living out your dreams, and staying consistent, that you’ll make it as far as you want to go. You’re still so young. You have so much ahead of you.”

  “Yeah,” I breathe. “Thanks.”

  Too bad Matthew won’t be by my side after the next forty-eight hours.

  Chapter 9

  Matthew

  It’s around noon and Stanley, Mr. Madison, and I are in the basement.

  It’s set up somewhat like a man cave. A pool table is in the far left corner, a dartboard on the wall across from the door, and Carolina Panthers décor on almost every wall.

  There’s even a Carolina Panthers’ blanket on the top of one of the white, reclining sofas.

  A flat-screen television is built into the north wall, a black-granite counter bar to my right. Damn. This is one spiffy-ass man basement.

  A hand claps my shoulder and Stanley steps to my side. “Nice right?” he cheeses as he looks around. “Helped the Pops set it up and everything.”

  “Carolina Panthers?” I ask with an inclined brow.

  “Hell yeah, man! We’ve been fans for a long time! When I was little I loved the colors, but Dad loves the team because his college roommate used to be a defensive coach.”

  “Really?” I look towards Mr. Madison, who turns on the TV and flips the channel to ESPN.

  “Yep.” Mr. Madison sighs. “I used to get tickets—right on the front row. Best seats in the house. Got inside the box a couple of times, too. I prefer front row though.” He winks over his shoulder.

  “That’s cool. Do you still keep in touch with him?” I ask.

  Mr. Madison drops the remote control, going towards the pool table. “That would be nice, but unfortunately he passed away two years ago.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry.”

  “Nah, don’t worry yourself about it.” He waves a dismissive hand. “Who’s your team?” he inquires, looking at me as if I’m going to say the shittiest team on the planet.

  “Green Bay all day, man!”

  “Ahh no! You can’t be serious! Boo!” Stanley throws two thumbs down, shaking his head. “I can’t believe we have a Packer Slacker in the house!”

  I chuckle. “Hey, man! They are a great team!”

  “They’re all right,” Mr. Madison says, chuckling himself.

  “They win more games than the Panthers,” I tease.

  “Oh, shit, Dad! He just went there!”

  “He sure did! Time to pull out the torches!”

  We all laugh together, Mr. Madison racking the balls in the triangular tray.

  “Nah, that’s okay, son. As long as you love football, you’re okay in my book.” Mr. Madison walks away from the pool table to get behind the bar. He pulls down a bottle of whiskey, three glasses, and pours some into each. “Jameson?” he offers, holding a glass up.

  Stanley grabs a glass right away.

  “Sure,” I murmur, recalling the conversation Piper and I had about it being wise to take the drink if he offers.

  I think I’m winning him over, but I could use the extra brownie points… even though it’s only noon.

  “Drink up, bud,” Stanley sighs. “You’re gonna need it with all that’s planned today. Mom goes overboard with a big O. We can never just relax during the day.”

  Mr. Madison rubs his hands together as he meets at the pool table. “Ready for some pool?”

  He places his glass on the table behind him and then walks toward the walls that have the pool sticks. He takes three of them down, coming our way and handing them to us.

  “Piper was the only one of the girls that loved playing pool with me,” he informs me, a proud smile on display. “She’s very competitive.”

  “Very,” Stanley laughs.

  “Is that so?” I ask, amused.

  “Yes! Oh—look at this.” Mr. Madison takes off for a glass case behind the sofa. He pulls the door open and takes out a picture frame.

  Coming back in our direction, he hands the frame to me and then steps beside me, pointing at a teenage girl with pigtails and braces.

  “That’s Piper?
” I fight a laugh, studying her in her red and black basketball uniform.

  “Yep. She started for her high school. She had so much heart—so much drive. She was so damn ambitious and I thought surely she’d go farther with her life—get a career worth something, you know?”

  I look up at him, avoiding a frown. “What do you mean?”

  “Come on!” His voice is louder, raspier. “You can’t tell me you don’t find it silly that she’s editing for some magazine.”

  I shrug one shoulder. “I don’t think it’s bad at all. She loves her job, I can tell. And she’s good at it.”

  “We wanted her to make more of herself. We didn’t send her off to Harvard and pay tens of thousands in tuition just for her to spend her days telling people about what restaurant has the best kale chips in New York. It seems like she settled.”

  “Well,” I start, lowering the photo, “she has a great place back in Manhattan. And, pardon my language, but she works her ass off—sometimes going in before the sun rises—just to get projects finished early.”

  “That’s true. Plus, every time I call her, she’s busy,” Stanley adds.

  I nod. “I see her work late on the nights I visit and I wonder how she does it—how she keeps the steam, the drive, the passion. Now that you’ve told me she’s always been this way, well, you’ve got to admit that’s something you admire, Mr. Madison.”

  He looks me over before averting his gaze to the TV. “I just think she deserves more out of life,” he grumbles beneath his breath, walking back to the pool table. “You know what? You two get the game started. I’ve gotta run upstairs to take a vitamin I forgot.” Mr. Madison forces a smile at Stanley and me but wastes no time walking around us and marching up the stairs.

  We watch him go, and when the door creaks closed we know he might not be coming back anytime soon.

  “Sensitive man.” Stanley shrugs, turning to look at me. “He doesn’t like to know he’s wrong. He knows Piper is doing better than both Lena and Bailey combined. I think he’s just upset because she didn’t fail at doing something she actually wanted to do.”

  “What did they want her to study?” I sit on one of the stools as he sips his drink.

  “Oh,” Stanley chokes on a laugh, placing his glass on the counter and then leaning against the edge. “Well, if it didn’t have anything to do with saving lives, justice, business—accounting at least—then they didn’t approve. A doctor, dentist, surgeon, accountant—stuff like that. Piper had let them know early on that she didn’t want to do any of that. They said they wouldn’t pay her tuition if she didn’t take the courses, so of course she went along with it. But during her freshman year, she made the wise decision to switch her major, drop out of what Mom and Dad wanted her in. She called me personally and told me she was worried she was making a mistake. I told her she wasn’t making one at all. Our parents don’t control our destiny—our future. They think they can, but they don’t. She dated this one guy that they set her up with—a real douche with more money than he knew what to do with. I guess they figured if she wouldn’t do what they wanted, she could be with someone they wanted. Wrong. Piper terminated that too. That was years ago.”

  “Damn.”

  “Yeah.” He rubs his face. “But as independent and smart and ambitious as Piper is, I can’t help but wonder one thing about her…”

  “And what’s that?” I ask.

  He looks me over, a smile twitching at his lips. “I can’t, for the life of me, figure out why she felt she had to go so far as to hire an escort to be her boyfriend, just to please them.” He laughs.

  My heart sinks to my stomach, pounding rapidly.

  My mouth moves, but words don’t form.

  Holy shit.

  Is he… how the hell did he find out? Did she tell him?!

  “Did she tell you?” I ask, trying my hardest to remain cool. I have never been in a situation like this before. I have never been found out.

  “No. She didn’t have to. I knew as soon as I met you.”

  I frown. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean… well, Matthew, I’m a lawyer. I see right through people. That’s how I decide whether or not to work with a client. Nothing against you or anything, but I saw it as soon as she brought you in. Not only that, but I had a feeling. Piper would have at least told me about a boyfriend of hers. I mean, I know she tries not to because my wife… and all—but it’s Piper. She knows she can tell me anything. She’d be able to hide it from the rest of the family, but not me. Plus, I looked into you. Found out a few things too. Having someone that can access criminal backgrounds and records comes in handy.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

  I look away. I cannot believe this shit. “You looked into my records?” I ask underneath my breath.

  Stanley turns in my direction and I look up. “Look, don’t worry about me. I won’t tell a soul about any of it. Not about you being a fake boyfriend or even the fact that you almost murdered a man when you were eighteen.”

  I swallow thickly. “Look, I’m just doing this for Piper,” I say quickly, pushing to a stand.

  “No. I think you prey on rich girls with money, use your charms and those dimples and that beard so you can get your bills paid, and then you forget all about them.”

  Stanley smiles smugly, and I wonder just how in the hell he can be Piper’s favorite, but then I remember he’s a lawyer and interrogating is apart of what he does in the court of law.

  “That’s not why I do this,” I say as calmly as possible. “If they need help, they come to me. I do my job, and when it’s over, I leave them alone. Those are the rules.”

  “And see—that’s the thing. You shouldn’t just leave Piper alone. I think you are starting to grow on her.” He folds his arms, his eyes focusing on mine.

  My jaw locks.

  “Do you like her?”

  I blink, and that question is like a blow to the gut. “I don’t develop feelings for my clients. It’s all business.”

  “Nah, I don’t think so.” He shakes his head. “I think… what you were saying to Dad was kinda real. You admire her.”

  “So? I do think she’s smart and sweet and funny… but that’s her personality. She knows just as well as I do that when this weekend is over, it will be like I never even existed.”

  Stanley sighs and makes a tisk-tisk-tisk noise. “I don’t want to be all in your business, but I know Piper. She clings. She doesn’t like to let go once she’s latched on. I’m sure you know she hasn’t been in a serious relationship since graduating college. That was over five years ago. Why do you think that is?”

  His question is rhetorical but it does make me consider everything I know about her. Shit. Maybe having sex with her was a bad move. Hell, I knew it was but I went through with it anyway.

  I don’t get attached because I can’t. I have a criminal background. It was an error in judgment, a ruthless decision I made while I was so angry with how the world and life worked. I spent four years in jail and, oddly enough, it changed my life for the better.

  I wanted to become a better man, create a life worth living. I got a job that paid me three dollars an hour to start as a Town Car driver. With a job like that in Manhattan, I figured why not?

  I drove rich people around, to and from parties and organized events—all over the city. It wasn’t much money, but the tips they gave were decent. I’m glad I took the job because that’s how I met Renee.

  A rich, older woman.

  A woman that changed my life.

  She had blonde hair and blue eyes and she was one stuck-up bitch.

  Her date had abandoned her at the last minute, and with as much pride as she had, she refused to go to the party alone. It was her event—she had organized it.

  I pulled up to the curb, opened her door, but she didn’t get in.

  Her eyes ran up and down the length of my body as I stood in my black suit. She liked what she saw.

  And then she finally said, “I will pay you $8,000 at the e
nd of the night if you attend this party as my date.”

  I was shocked. Stunned, really. And suspicious. I thought it was a trick, and I immediately turned it down. I didn’t need to get into any more trouble.

  I couldn’t afford it. I needed to turn a new leaf. I needed a fresh start and I wasn’t about to let a rich, self-righteous woman ruin that for me.

  But when she pulled a wad of cash from her purse, fanned it in the air—in my face—and repeated her offer, I knew she was serious.

  I knew it was official when she took me to a Dolce & Gabbana store, had me fitted for a suit and rushed to the party, her elbow hooked through mine, a large smile on her face.

  It was such easy money and the night ran so smoothly that I got hooked. I made my own business out of it, and since that night I haven’t gone back.

  With that first $8,000, I invested in new, fashionable attire and created a website for my escorting business. There were women out there—desperate women—that needed a man at the last minute. Women that loved a little eye candy on her arm even if she wasn’t the prettiest thing anyone had ever seen.

  Renee gave me seven simple rules that changed my life and turned me into the professional escort I am today:

  1) Play the part and do it well.

  2) Be professional and smart about my answers.

  3) Be affectionate when needed.

  4) Ogle her so people will find things between us believable.

  5) Always be confident.

  6) Don’t get attached.

  7) Make up a new life.

  I take those rules with me and I work hard at them. But rule number six has been tricky to stick with while around Piper.

  “Please don’t tell her about that,” I plead. “After this weekend, you can tell her. But I’d rather she not know. Especially right now, while things seem to be going so well.”

  “I wouldn’t ruin her Christmas like that, Matthew. You’re safe,” Stanley says, walking around me. “But do me a favor and try to keep your hands off of her a little more. I’d hate for her to be disappointed once she discovers what you really are.”

  A fake. A cheat. A man with a past.