Hooker (L.A. Liaisons Book 2)

by Brooke Blaine

  “Wow,” I said, reeling, but keeping my hand up. The fire in my veins went from simmering to boiling, but somehow, I kept my voice steady. “All I ever wanted was to do my job to the best of my abilities. Not coddling. Not praise. Not recognition. I never asked you for anything, not even a raise, which I’ve more than deserved for over seven years now. You want me to imagine your disappointment with me? Imagine mine when I realized I had a thundercunt for a boss. I am nothing like you, thank God, and the sooner you and this joke of a company are out of my life, the better off I’ll be.”

  The veins in Val’s face looked ready to pop, and her nails were digging into her palms so hard they were white. “You… You were nothing when I found you, and you’ll be nothing without me either, you little tramp. Don’t you ever forget that. You could never do what I do.”

  I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face as I shook my head. “You’re right about that, Val. I could never do what you do.” And then I shrugged. “I’ll just do it better.”

  And then I backed out of her office while she stood there like a bomb ready to explode. After slamming the door behind me, I victory-danced my way down the hall but then realized I had one last thing I was dying to say.

  When I stuck my head back inside, she was clutching her stomach, but dropped her hand when she saw me.

  “Sorry, I forgot one thing,” I said, and then wrinkled my nose before looking her up and down. “Eat shit, Val.”

  * * *

  THE ONLY THINGS I’d taken with me from HLS had been the collage of wedding invitations on my wall, the backup drive of our client list and information, and my Rolodex. Oh, and my fluorescent Post-its with the fancy holders, because hello, priorities. Then I’d dropped off a quick note for Roberto at the security desk, and I was home free. And oh my God, the relief. With the windows down and the fresh air breezing in, I felt like I was flying.

  No more Val.

  No more HLS.

  No more money, which was disturbing, but I’d think about later. Dammit, I felt so good I needed a round two. While I was taking out the trash, so to speak, it was time to deal with the other oppressive weight holding me down.

  Two hours later, I’d thrown all my stuff from the apartment into garbage bags and shoved them into my car. Turned out I didn’t have much worth the effort of taking with me. Now that I had no job, I had no income, and I’d be damned if I was staying with the Barbies for one more minute. Not when I had an alternative.

  I was just filling a laundry basket with the last of my haul when the twins came barreling inside, reeking of suntan oil, sweat, and margaritas.

  “All right, I’m out,” I said, brushing by them as I headed for the door.

  Kassy’s head spun toward me. “Out? As in moving out?”

  “Yep. Surely you two have friends who can move in and help with the rent, right? And if not, just flash Pete your boobs for a discount.”

  “Really? That works?” Kassy tapped her lips as she thought that over, and then her face lit up and she said, “Kels, we should totally ask Mariska to move in.”

  “Ooh yeah, or Ashley. Oh my gosh, dibs on your room!” Kelly leapt up and ran past me into my bedroom, which was bare except for the furniture. Not like I’d need my Craigslist hand-me-downs where I was going.

  “Bye to you too,” I muttered.

  “Thanks, Shayne!” Kassy was already punching numbers on her phone, and I heard, “Hey, Mariska? You’ll never believe it,” as I opened the front door and ran smack into Pervy Pete.

  He looked at my laundry basket full of clothes and all the knickknacks I’d thrown on top and said, “Going somewhere?”

  “Yep.” I shifted the basket onto my hip and then pulled the door shut behind me. Then I passed him without a care in the world and without looking back at the place I’d called home for too many years.

  “No, Shayne. You no go. Contract—”

  “Oh riiiiight,” I said, spinning around to face him. “I did sign a contract with you, huh?”

  “Yes, so you no leave—”

  “Actually,” I said, dropping the basket at my feet, “I am leaving. And our little contract is null and void. It can carry on to Kelly and Kassy, but I’m peacing out. You’ll have to find a new neighbor to harass.”

  “You leave, I sue.”

  And I swear to God, when he said that, I laughed. Hysterically. So much so I had to bend over with my hands on my knees to catch my breath after a full two minutes. “You’re a funny man. Really.” Then I crouched down and rummaged through my basket until I found my checkbook and a pen. After quickly scribbling enough to cover my portion of a month’s rent, I held up the check. “Here’s my thirty-day notice. If you try to stop me, I’ll contact the police about the way you’ve drilled peepholes into the bathrooms, or the way you come into our apartment and sniff our clothes when we’re not home, both things I’m sure you realize are against the law.”

  “I not do—”

  “Oh, yes, you do. I’ve got pictures and several videos on my phone, you dirty old man. Dare me to use it, Pete.”

  His mustache quivered, whether from anger or from being two seconds away from bawling, I didn’t know and didn’t care. And then, because I was on a roll and the guy was a disgusting degenerate, I stepped in real close and said, “And don’t think they wouldn’t love to hear about who you’ve got hiding away in your apartment. They’ll have them deported before you can say, ‘But Shayne, I need you to give me your double-Ds.’ You got me, Muchacho?”

  Pete’s jaw fell slack and his eyes almost fell out of their sockets, so I took that for a yes. Smirking, I picked up my basket and headed for the stairs, where Old Ouiser was packed to the brim and waiting. When I passed his mother standing at the window, a horrified expression on her sweet face, I whispered, “Don’t worry, Maria, I wouldn’t do that to you.” Then over my shoulder, my voice stern, I called out, “I mean it, Pete.”

  And Pervy did the first smart thing he’d probably ever done in his whole life—he didn’t follow me.

  * * *

  AS I DROVE up the hill that led to my destination, poor Old Ouiser chugging along, I had to mentally pat myself on the damn back for growing a vagina of steel.

  Damn that’d felt good. I was two for two in the shock-the-hell-out-of-assholes game today, and the huge smile that had my cheeks burning was the first one I’d had on my face in what felt like too long. I’d never felt so free, with so much weight off my shoulders—no more ruse for Ace, no more horrible boss, no more sharing an apartment with skanks. I was lighter than air, but I knew once the high wore off that the scared-shitless feeling would come rushing back in soon enough. Especially when I checked my bank account.

  I wasn’t going to think about all that right now, though. Instead, I was going to take things one day at a time, and check off the tasks as I went. The first and most important being a roof over my head.

  When I pulled into the circular stone driveway, I expected nerves at showing up unannounced, or at least panic at leaving everything behind. But it felt like the right thing to do, and so I pulled out the basket from the backseat and then went up to ring the bell. When Paige swung open the door, I looked back down to the basket of clothes I was holding and then blew a wisp of hair out of my face.

  “It’s not too late to take you up on your offer, is it?” I asked. “Because I just told Pervy Pete to fuck off or I’d deport his family, so I’m probably not allowed back at my apartment…or the premises, so it’s either sleep here or the train, and I thought I’d at least try here first. Oh, and I quit my job. Tell me I’m not crazy.”

  Paige shook her head and took the basket off my hands, effectively shutting me up. Then a megawatt smile took over her face as she nodded for me to come inside. “About damn time, you stubborn woman.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Pull up Your Big-Girl Panties

  “OH FUCK ME gently with a chainsaw, I can’t believe you called Val a thundercunt,” Paige said, laughing
as she helped Ryleigh bring over a round of Bustin’ Balls shakes from Licked next door. The girls and I were at the After Dark, and they were helping me map out a business plan.

  Yep, you heard that right. A business plan, which still sounded foreign to my ears, but they swore we could do it.

  “I did say that. She didn’t even flinch. Or maybe she did, but I couldn’t tell, since her face doesn’t move.”

  “It’s too bad you told her off so quickly. I was hoping you’d see her shart her pants first.” Paige caught a cherry with her mouth and then gave me a sassy wink.

  “I can’t believe you spiked her gift basket with laxatives. That might be the best thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

  Paige pointed at Quinn. “Actually, she made me do it. She said, and I quote, ‘No way in hell is that psychobitch gonna fuck over our girl.’”

  “Aw,” Ryleigh said, batting her lashes. “You guys are so sweet and thoughtful. Seriously, we all lucked out finding each other. Do you remember when Shayne sacrificed her underwear to get me away from that creepy guy at Halo that one time?”

  “Please don’t remind me. I try not to think about the fact that he might have a shrine to my cherry panties.” I shuddered and took a long gulp of my shake. “All right, Quinn, call this meeting to order.”

  Quinn held up her glass and said, “To sending our sweet Shayne out into the world to kick a little ass. We’re gonna be four for four, bitches. Taking over the world, one business at a time.”

  As we all held up our drinks in cheers, Ryleigh said, “Damn straight. But what is it you do again?”

  With a roll of her eyes, Quinn threw back her drink, and I had to laugh. One of these days, she was bound to fess up or slip up. We’d come up with such fantastical possibilities as to what her day job entailed—assassin, undercover agent, high-priced escort—that whatever she really did to spend her days would probably be nowhere near as cool. So, assassin Quinn it was.

  “All right,” she said, wiping her mouth and then banging her fist on the table like a gavel. “I’ve got the rundown of what we’ll each be helping you with so you don’t get overwhelmed and end up crying in Paige’s master bathroom all day.” Then she passed out folders to each of us, and when I opened mine, I whistled.

  “Wow, someone’s organized. If it’d been up to me, I’d just have a wall of sticky notes.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve got some in your purse,” she replied. When I pulled a stack of them out of my bag, she pursed her lips. “Exactly. Okay, so the first thing on the list is what you need to obtain a business license, and for that, Ryleigh will be helping you. You can tell who’s doing what by the colored tabs for each section. Since she’s also helping you with your financial planning, her tab is green.”

  Paige groaned as she flipped through the folder. “You’re killing the badass mafia image I have of you, Quinn. Please don’t tell me you own pocket protectors or play Dragons and Dungeons or whatever it’s called.”

  “Nothing wrong with a little role-playing, as you well know.” She flipped her jet-black locks over her shoulder. “Now, I’m the red tab, and if you’ll turn to that section, it’ll show you a list of properties I’ve already been scoping out as possible locations. Don’t stroke out at the price tag, please, because these were all priced well under what was on the expense sheet Ace gave you. It’s just a matter of deciding where in the city you’d like to base the company, how much space you need, etcetera.”

  “Holy shit, can I be Ace’s beard for a little while? I’d like to expand. Instead of just wedding planning, I could also coordinate bachelorette and divorce parties. I’m a good investment,” Paige said.

  Quinn shook her head and continued, “What you need to do is start touching base with your old client list and get your website and social media set up, since you already have experience doing that at HLS. You want to get your name out there and have a few clients under your belt before we go full blast with the marketing, which we’ll get to once we narrow the rest of this down.”

  “We still need to think up a good company name,” Ryleigh pointed out.

  “The only reason we’re still brainstorming is because Cocks in the Henhouse has been ruled out. Lame whores,” Paige said.

  “We’re not naming it that either.” I sent a pointed look Paige’s way and then dropped my gaze back to the folder. “You guys…this is too much. I don’t even know what to say.”

  “Say you’ll send your clients here for their engagement parties,” Ryleigh said.

  Paige nodded. “And then send them my way for wedding shenanigans.”

  I looked around the table at my friends in amazement. Each of them was successful, fiercely independent, strong-willed, generous, and so freakin’ talented in their own way, and it was then that I realized…I was one of them. Like, really one of them.

  No, I hadn’t grown up wealthy, and no, I hadn’t had much luck in business in my twenty-eight years, but I wasn’t on the outskirts looking in on this kickass group of women… I was talented in my own right, and I could do anything I set my mind to, especially with them by my side.

  It had taken this long for me to get that through my thick skull, but I finally got it. Besides, what did I have to lose?

  Needing to get started before I got all teary and emotional, I cleared my throat and said, “All right, slutbags. Let’s do the damn thing.”

  * * *

  THREE HOURS AND two more rounds of drinks later, and I had paperwork that I’d need to file filled out, we’d gone over expenses, and I’d also narrowed down the list of potential locations to four, which I’d be visiting this week with Quinn and Ace, if he was free.

  I was feeling pumped and confident, especially when I checked my voicemail and listened to Jenna’s message about joining me when I was up and running. Hot freakin’ damn. I felt like Tom Cruise in Jerry Maguire, with one celebrity client and one coworker willing to jump ship from the sharks because they had faith in my ideas. All I was missing was the goldfish.

  As I helped carry empty glasses back over to Licked, my eyes zeroed in on a tall, dark-haired man standing by the ice cream counter in jeans, a formal white shirt, and…suspenders.

  My heart seized in my chest as I came to a stop. Surely that wasn’t…it couldn’t be… Then the man turned around and pushed a thick pair of glasses up his face, and I let out the breath I’d been holding, though it wasn’t one of relief.

  He caught me staring at him and looked down at his clothes self-consciously. “Too much?” he asked.

  Shaking my head, I smiled sadly. It wasn’t his fault I was wishing he was someone else. “Not too much at all. Perfect, really.”

  Had there been anything or anyone more perfect than Nate? Was I a fool like the girls said for not begging forgiveness? Maybe I just didn’t understand how he could begin to forgive in the first place, but…perhaps they were right. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking.

  I jumped when Ryleigh put her hand on my shoulder.

  “You okay?” she asked, her brows knitting as she looked between me and suspenders guy.

  “Uh, yeah. Fine.” I gave her a tight smile. “All good.”

  She raised an eyebrow but didn’t call me out on my lie. Instead, she took the empty glasses from my hands and headed to the back to drop them in the sink.

  “You know,” Quinn said, coming up beside me and linking her arm through mine as she walked me back over to the After Dark, “your horoscope today reminded me of Nate.”

  His name jerked me back to reality. “What?”

  She pulled her cell phone out of her purse and opened her astrology app. “‘A past love may resurface when and where you least expect it this week. Be prepared to open yourself up to all possibilities.’”

  “It does not say that,” I said, snatching the phone out of her hand and then repeating, word for word, what it did, in fact, say. “Huh. Well, for all I know, they could mean Crazy Cal from six years ago.”

  Quinn gave m
e a knowing look. “Or it could be the sign you’ve been waiting for to go after the other thing you want. There’s nothing and no one stopping you now but you.” She shrugged and then shoved the phone into her tight black leather pants. “Just think about it.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Meals for One Two

  THERE I WAS again. A wild Thursday night in the meals-for-one aisle. But this time, I’d come armed.

  With a candy bar clenched in my fist, I sat with my back against one of the cool glass doors, my legs splayed into the aisle in front of me, and staring up at that stupid, wretched sign. The one that was destined to describe my life from this point forward.

  For all eternity, I was destined to match lovers, but never be a lover. Which was to say, my attempt at a startup was actually going well. So well, in fact, that although I hadn’t yet found an office space, the clients that had followed me over from HLS were willing to meet at local coffee shops over espresso and banana bread instead. And with Ace’s investment, and the flux of interested potentials that had heard about me from his press conference, I’d be able to afford to bring Jenna on board as soon as we found our headquarters.

  I guess it was true what they say, whoever “they” happened to be—that when one part of your life is finally doing well, the other part can’t seem to get its shit together.

  My thoughts, as they always did, drifted to Nate. He’d be graduating in a couple of weeks. Would he stay here? Head to New York? Somewhere else? Did he think of me? And not in the thank fuck I dodged a bullet with that one sort of way, but the I miss her way.

  That was asking a lot, though. There was a reason I hadn’t reached out to him even after Ace had come clean in front of however many hundreds of thousands of people had seen his press conference.