by Nikki Ash
I reply with: Working
I regret typing the word as soon as I hit send. This late at night, there’s only one job I could be at right now, and it’s not Fresh Designs.
Less than ten seconds later, he responds.
Killian: On a date?
I know what he’s asking. Am I working as an escort?
I type back my response with a quote from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland—the book, not the movie.
If everyone minded their own business, the world would go around a great deal faster than it does.
I smirk as I watch the bubbles, which indicate he’s typing. Then they stop. They start again. But then stop. Immediately, I wonder if I offended him. I meant it as a joke, but even when it’s put like that, in a quote from a children’s book, it still means the same thing. Mind your own business. And even if I meant what I wrote, I shouldn’t be rude to Killian. What he did for my mom… he’s the reason she’s still alive. Had I taken the subway that night, I never would have gotten to her in time. And once we arrived, it was his phone call that got the ambulance to her in time.
Before I can type back, a text comes in: Off with her head.
I let out a soft giggle at his response, then reply: I’m sorry, that was rude… Yes, I’m on a date…as an escort.
I throw my phone back in my clutch and make my way back out to the table. When I get there, I realize I left Patricia in the bathroom. She walks up behind me and sits down. The next hour I try to focus better, participate in the conversation more, and earn my pay. When the bill is paid, we say our goodbyes, and part ways once the valet brings the cars around.
“You okay, Giselle?” Paul asks, glancing over to me as he drives us back to his place. He’s a VIP client, which means his dates always include a ‘nightcap.’
“I’m just a little tired,” I tell him.
“Why don’t I bring you home?” he suggests. I want to tell him I appreciate that but it will mean less money—and I need the money.
“That’s okay.” I give him a smile. “I’m good.”
“No, you aren’t,” he argues. “If it’s the money you’re worried about, I’ll notate we had our nightcap.”
“I appreciate that, but I couldn’t let you do that. I promise I am good.” The last thing I want is another person taking pity on me. Paul doesn’t argue further. He takes me back to his place where we spend the next half-hour having sex. When we’re done, he thanks me for another wonderful evening and then calls his driver to take me home.
On the way, I check my messages. If I’m honest, I’m a bit disappointed to see Killian never texted me back. Not that I blame him. Why would he want to continue a conversation with a woman who’s whoring herself out? Then again, he does hire women for the same services I provide.
Once I’m dropped off, I head upstairs. The place is dark and quiet, and I assume Olivia and Reed are at Nick’s. I take a hot shower, scrubbing the slut off me. It doesn’t matter how much I clean myself, though. I know who I am and what I’ve become. I can’t regret it, though. It’s how I’m surviving. It’s what pays my mom’s mortgage, my sister’s school, my school loan debt. It’s how I’m going to get my mom healthy. I don’t have it in me to regret my choices. But even with all the justifying I do, it doesn’t stop me from feeling gross and dirty.
After putting on my pajamas, I head out to the kitchen to get a bottle of water, when I hear something. I knock on Olivia’s door and she tells me to come in.
“I thought you were at Nick’s,” I say as I enter her room.
“I’m not feeling well,” she whispers. When I step closer, I can see she’s been crying. Her eyes are puffy and her cheeks and nose are blotchy. I crawl into bed with her, and she cuddles up next to me—her head landing on my chest. My fingers run through her long strands of hair.
“What’s wrong?” I ask her.
“I—I’m not sure. I’ve just been really emotional lately, and the last few days I’ve been feeling nauseous. I threw up this morning.” My fingers still in her hair. Emotional. Nauseous. Throwing up. She’s pregnant. She knows it. I know it. She just doesn’t want to admit it. I could point it out to her, but it’s obvious she’s not ready to deal with it, so I’ll let her remain in denial for a little longer. If I were to guess, she’s nervous to tell Nick, which is why she’s home instead of with him. The last time she was pregnant, he didn’t handle it well at all. Of course he came around, but it makes sense that she would be nervous to tell him.
“I’m sure it’s just a bug or something,” I say.
“Yeah, maybe. Or maybe it’s just nerves. Between the charity event and Nick getting injured, things have been crazy.”
We lay in bed, not saying a word for several minutes. Then Olivia says, “I figured out the tattoo I want to get.” I stifle my laugh. She won’t be getting a tattoo for at least the next nine months.
“Oh, yeah? What do you want to get?” I ask, going along with the conversation.
“I want to get ‘And they lived happily ever after’ written across my ribs with three hearts for Nick, Reed, and me.”
“That will be beautiful.” But it will be four hearts and not three, I think, but don’t say out loud.
“I miss you, Giselle,” Olivia whispers.
“I miss you, too,” I whisper back.
As we lay in bed, I consider telling her everything. She’s my best friend, my sister. Olivia would never judge me. I know that. I could do no wrong in her eyes. No, she wouldn’t judge, but she would want to fix it. And the thought of her paying for anything, makes me feel sick. She’s done so much for me over the years. I can’t let her fix this. But I also can’t keep this from her any longer. It’s destroying our friendship. Just as I work up the courage to tell her what’s been going on, Reed cries from his room.
“He’s been teething,” she says, getting up. She brings him back into the room with us, and when he spots me, he gets excited.
“Gi Gi!” he exclaims in his cute little voice. Olivia lays him between us, and he pulls on my hair with his chubby little fingers. He rolls from side to side getting comfortable. Once he’s settled down, Olivia rubs his back and within minutes he’s passed out.
“Do you have any plans tomorrow night?” Olivia asks me. I think for a minute. As of right now I’m not on the schedule.
“No.”
“I was thinking we could do a girls’ night out, and I can invite Celeste. We spoke a few days ago and she’s been acting weird since the night of your birthday.” I stifle a laugh for a second time. She’s totally avoiding Nick. “We can go out for drinks.”
“Or we can stay in and watch some chick flicks,” I propose.
“Reed’s been acting weird. My dad and Corrine will have to watch him here. He hasn’t been wanting to sleep anywhere else lately.”
“What about Nick?” I ask nonchalantly.
“His arm has been hurting. I don’t want him to have to pick up Reed. He’ll probably just hang out with Killian, play the PlayStation or whatever.”
“Sounds good.” I let out a yawn at the same time Olivia does, and we both laugh. Reed rolls over and his hand comes up to my cheek. His eyes stay closed. I watch him for several minutes, realizing I never told Olivia anything I planned to tell her. Tomorrow, I think to myself. I’ll tell her tomorrow. Tonight, I just want to pretend everything is right in my world.
Twelve
Killian
“So, she’s been avoiding you since you got injured?” I ask Nick, my eyes not leaving the television. The score’s 28-35, and I need this touchdown to tie the game.
“Yep, I don’t know why, man. Any other woman, I would say she’s upset that I won’t be a pro ball player anymore…” Nick’s defensive team comes at my quarterback, and I throw the ball to one of my receivers.
“But this is Olivia,” I say, finishing his sentence. “And the woman is richer than you are.”
“Exactly,” he agrees, “it doesn’t make any sense. I thought she would be happ
y to have me home more.” My guy is tackled, and the time runs down. I throw the controller onto the coffee table, and Nick laughs.
“Where is she now?” I ask.
“Right above us.” Nick looks toward the ceiling. “Girls’ night. Coach and Corrine are watching Reed at her place. I think the moving back and forth is effecting him. He doesn’t want to sleep anywhere but at her place.” He frowns.
“Who all is up there?” I ask, attempting to sound nonchalant, when what I really want to know is if Giselle is up there. The woman has been on my mind for days now. In a moment of weakness I texted her to see how she was doing only to learn she was out with another guy. It shouldn’t have affected me the way it did. I know what she does for a living. I know she dates and fucks men for money. But it did affect me. And now I can’t stop thinking about her. Everything doesn’t add up. There’s definitely more going on than she’s allowing people to see. And I want to know what it is.
“Giselle and Celeste,” Nick says, standing and heading to my kitchen. “Want a drink?” he calls out.
“Sure.” He comes back in and hands me a cold beer.
“If you’re worried about Olivia avoiding you, you should go see her.”
“Right now?”
“Yeah, she’s upstairs, so she can’t run.” I shrug, and Nick gives me a curious glance.
“How did your date with Giselle go?”
“Fine.” I take a long pull of my beer.
“Fine?” he parrots.
“It started out a bit rough…I may have said a few things that pissed her off…” Nick groans. “But I apologized, and by the end of the night I have to admit I was enjoying her company.” I don’t mention what happened with her mom and how it made me see Giselle in an entirely new light.
Nick eyes me warily. “Are you thinking about seeing her again?”
“What if I am?” I shoot him a what the fuck look. “Aren’t you the one who said I should give her a chance?”
“Yeah, I did, but I don’t want to see either of you get hurt. She never seems to last more than a couple of dates with the same guy. I think she just has a lot of shit going on. Her dad left, and from what I can see, she’s paying for her sister’s school and her mom’s bills. She won’t discuss it and she’s never confirmed it, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that when her dad left her mom, he stopped supporting his family.” I begin to do the math in my head: the mortgage, house bills, college can’t be cheap. I remember that the doctor mentioned she was self-paying. Does she not have insurance? That bill would be thousands of dollars.
“You don’t know shit, Killian. Don’t you dare make assumptions or pretend to know anything about me or my life.”
Jesus, is this why she’s barely making ends meet even though she’s living with Olivia rent-free? Why she’s working as an escort, even though she has a job as an interior designer? She’s taken on an entire family in her father’s absence. All the pieces finally fit together, and fuck if I don’t feel like the biggest piece of shit.
“Why don’t we go crash their girls’ night? You know…so you can see how your fiancée is doing.”
Nick laughs. “Okay, we’ll blame it on me.” We stand and head toward the door, but Nick stops me from opening it. “I know Giselle comes across tough, but this morning, when I was missing Olivia and Reed, I went over there to see them. I snuck in and saw Olivia, Reed, and Giselle all sleeping in Olivia’s bed together. Olivia and Reed were both asleep. But Giselle…she wasn’t asleep. She was watching them both…while crying.
“I think she’s in over her head, Kill, but she won’t let Olivia in. I know you don’t understand why I won’t push for Olivia and Reed to move out, but that woman was there for Olivia when I wasn’t. I owe her. She’s not just her best friend. She’s her family, which means she’s my family.”
“Got it.”
We get off on Nick’s floor, and without knocking, walk into his condo. The girls are on the couch laughing and talking animatedly. Giselle and Celeste have a wine glass in their hand, and Olivia is drinking a bottle of water. The three of them stop speaking and laughing the second they see Nick and me enter. Celeste smirks, Giselle’s eyes go wide and then she glares, and Olivia looks like she’s nervous.
Celeste and Giselle both stand, setting down their drinks while Olivia stays seated.
“You don’t have to leave on our account,” Nick says to the two women. “I was just hoping to see my fiancée for a few minutes. She’s been…busy lately.” He shoots her a pointed look, and Giselle giggles. My eyes swing to her, and she’s grinning from ear-to-ear.
“I’m out of here,” Giselle announces.
“Same,” Celeste agrees.
“No, you aren’t.” Olivia stops them. “You’ve been drinking. Please spend the night. Nick has a spare room.”
“It only has one twin bed,” Nick says.
“Giselle’s coming with me,” I announce. Her eyes go wide. “We need to talk.”
“Great!” Olivia exclaims. “Celeste, you can take the spare room.”
Celeste and Giselle both look like they want to argue but for some reason, don’t.
“Fine,” Giselle says. “Let’s go.” She gives Celeste and Olivia a hug, then, after grabbing her purse, follows me out. Once we’re in the elevator, before I can press the button to my floor, she presses the button for the ground floor.
“You agreed to come to my place. Like Olivia said, you’ve been drinking, and it’s late.” I press the button for my floor.
“I agreed because Olivia is hormonal and in denial. I didn’t want to upset her.”
I’m not sure what she means by that, but right now I need to focus on Giselle. Nick can handle his fiancée. “Well, now I’m responsible for you.” The bell dings, indicating we’ve arrived, and the doors open. Giselle crosses her arms over her chest in defiance, and I grin.
“You coming?” I ask, giving her one chance to come on her own.
“Nope.” Her lips pop at the p, and I stifle my laugh at how adorable she is when she’s been drinking.
“Fine.” I bend at the waist and throw her over my shoulder. She kicks and screams as I walk her down the hall to my condo. With one hand, I unlock my door and walk us inside. When I get to my couch, I drop her and she lands on the cushions with a huff.
“I want the truth,” I demand. “Why are you an escort?”
Giselle glares my way, her invisible shield rising to protect her. “Because I love to fuck.”
She stands and fills the gap between us. Then she runs her fingers down my chest and over my abs through my shirt. It’s been a long time since I’ve been touched by a woman and my dick instantly takes notice.
“Do you love to fuck, Kill?” She licks her lips seductively. “I can fuck you.” Her hand lands on my crotch and she squeezes my dick. A groan escapes me. “I’m good at my job.”
Her words are like ice water to a flame, knocking me out of my trance. “I don’t want or need you to fuck me,” I growl as I back up slightly. “Now, answer me. Why are you an escort?”
She flinches at my repeated question then steps forward into my personal space. “What do the other women have that I don’t?” she questions, changing the subject. “You let Tabitha fuck you. I could please you. Just ask my other clients. They all come back wanting more.” I don’t bother to tell her that Tabitha most definitely didn’t fuck me.
Giselle encircles her arms around my nape and her lips press against the side of my neck. “Let me make you feel good,” she murmurs. My eyes close as I allow her to trail soft kisses up my neck and along my jaw. When her lips press against mine, I smell the wine, reminding me she’s been drinking. I can’t let this happen. I have rules and I’m not going to break them now. Especially for a woman who is treating me like I’m a paying client.
Gently, I push her away. “Giselle, I’m not your client. Stop avoiding my question. Why are you selling your body for money?”
Her arms cross over her chest in w
hat looks like a defensive move. “Why did you bring me up here if you don’t want to get laid?”
“I want to talk to you. Nick mentioned you’re paying for your sister’s school. Is that true?”
“Since when do you want to talk to me?” She snatches her purse off the couch. “It’s not your business what I’m paying for.”
“Wait, please.” I grab her upper arm gently but firmly to hold her in place. “How’s your mom doing?”
Giselle looks into my eyes for a beat before she lets out a deep breath. And then she shocks the shit out of me when she actually lets me in. “She’s still being evaluated. I have to go tomorrow to speak to the doctors.”
“Stay,” I say. “Not to have sex, but to talk.” I don’t know why I’m begging this woman to stay and talk. Maybe it’s because I feel like it’s possible we have something in common. We both carry secrets we aren’t proud of, secrets we can’t even tell our best friends and family.
“Why?” she asks, her voice small and vulnerable.
“I don’t know,” I tell her honestly. “Maybe it’s because when I look at you I see myself: broken and lonely.” I let out a deep breath. “Stay the night and talk to me. Be broken and lonely with me.” I repeat the words to the song we heard on our way to her house the night of her birthday. I’ve heard the song several times since that night and every damn time my thoughts go straight to Giselle.
Thirteen
Giselle
I don’t even realize I’m crying until Killian swipes his thumb across my cheek. He presses the pad of his thumb to his lips and I’m almost positive he just tasted my tears.
Be broken and lonely with me.
Can I do that? Can I let him in? I practically threw myself at him to stop him from getting too close to me, and he refused to have sex with me. Is it possible Killian Blake is just as broken and lonely as I am? I can’t imagine what he’s been through to feel that way, but then again, most wouldn’t know what I’m going through. Suddenly, a flashback hits me hard from the night of my birthday. The drive home. I drank way too much, and Killian made sure I got home safely.
