by JN Welsh
“Shots fired.” She shrank closer to the table, dumbfounded enough that her heels cemented to the sticky floor, shocked by his abandonment. Then, she caught the glimpse of humor that wrinkled the outside corner of his eyes.
He tossed her a brilliant smile.
“Come back,” she called and reached her arm out for him.
“Almost gotcha didn’t I?” He returned to the table and handed her the glass.
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t be too proud of yourself there, bro.”
“We were just talking about fucking and now you’re bro-ing me? I’m in that category already?”
When his full, luscious lips formed a smile, her urge to kiss them had her wanting to spin in circles. Though she longed to know the color of his eyes, it didn’t matter because they still mesmerized.
She shrugged.
“I’m Nicholas, by the way.”
“Elle.” Her eyes kept wandering to the deep V of his opened button-down shirt. His caramel coloring was such that she couldn’t guess his race, but she assumed he was multi-racial. It was hot as hell in the bar with the occasional frigid draft from patrons entering and leaving the place, and Nicholas was simultaneously keeping cool and advertising the goods.
“Are you here alone?” He sipped his wine.
“Nah, I’m with friends. I should actually get back to them.” Soon was unspoken and relative.
“I’m sure they won’t mind if you got to know a new friend.” He licked his lips and she never thought someone could have a perfect tongue until now.
“We’re friends now?” She teased and eased herself up on an available stool.
“We can be.”
“How about you? Are you here with friends?”
He focused on swirling the liquid in his wine glass. “I’m waiting for someone.”
Elle straightened at his gender-neutral description. “Cool.”
Nicholas filled her glass again. “I’m not trying to get you drunk.”
“I was going to ask because you’ve been pretty attentive in topping off my glass.” She spoke out of the side of her mouth in comedic flair. “Is that why you asked me if I was alone? So you can ply me with drink and take advantage of me?”
Elle didn’t know where that comment floated in from and then she remembered the Adonis of a man standing before her, cheering her up. As if she could forget.
“Says the woman who was literally offering relations for red wine.”
“Relations?” She enunciated every syllable.
He rubbed his thumb across his bottom lip. “Sorry, free fucks.”
She choked on the crimson liquid and coughed.
He handed her a napkin.
“Shall we move on?” She poured wine for him with an unsteady hand and the bottle lip clanked against the rim of glass.
The bottle was almost finished and she attempted to empty the remains into his glass, but he eased the bottle from her hand and decanted the last few drops into hers.
“Free fuck is a hard one to move on from.”
Elle’s eyes wandered to his crotch at the mention of hard one and not just any glance. But rather a lingering, ‘I don’t give a shit if he knows I’m watching,’ thorough evaluation of his bulge. She dragged her face back to his.
Humor and desire blanketed his slightly slanted orbs and chiseled features. “Satisfied?”
She cleared her throat. “I should get back to my crew—”
A woman sauntered up to him and gave him a kiss. Her long blonde hair flowed around him, and his arm hooked her waist.
“You made it, gorgeous. I was starting to get worried.” Nicholas thoroughly kissed the woman before they broke for air.
Elle’s mind screamed, what’s happening? She lost track as to why she was still standing there. Her eyes didn’t know where to land and she pressed the back of her hand to her flushed neck. She thought something was happening between her and Nicholas. Humiliated at the play of tonsil hockey between him and this woman, playing before her like some cinematic ending, Elle had only one option. Roll credits and bounce.
“Have a good night.” Nicholas threw the words at her as if she weren’t even a third or fourth thought, much less a second one. He stole the only ego-salvaging choice from her.
Her mouth caught flies and she let out an exasperated exhale that didn’t quite exit her constricting throat. She about-faced to Tess and the gang.
“What the hell took you so long, Elle?” Tess reprimanded.
“You guys, the most fucked-uppest shit just went down…” She recounted the story.
“I would have thrown the wine in his face,” Tess shrieked.
“It sucks but you did just meet. He really may have just been a nice guy who was waiting for his girl.” Her other male co-worker’s rationalization did little to reduce the sting.
“It’s cool. I’m about that free wine life,” Elle sang. She high-fived her friends, but behind her humor dripped egg—all over her face. She had once again met someone that either wasn’t available or didn’t pursue her. The situation only reminded her of the nagging that awaited when she lodged with her family on Christmas vacation.
Tess bumped shoulders with her. “You’re awesome. Fuck him and his sexpot.”
Elle gave her a sheepish smile. “Already forgotten.”
CHAPTER TWO
Cole awakened out of sleep by an image of a woman. Her disappointed features, highlighted by the twinkle of blinking lights in her mammoth afro, was seared into his brain. All night he failed to get her image out of his head. She said her name was Elle and he wondered if it was an alias. She was an ebony goddess if he’d ever seen one and he didn’t even try to shake her from his thoughts.
Lara, the woman who stirred next to him, had fantasied about stealing a man from another woman. Elle made herself an easy target when she yelled her question. Frustrated and in need of something alcoholic to soothe her, he had been happy to oblige. His only regret was seeing her face when Lara arrived to perform her part in their role-playing exercise. He didn’t even get her number and he was sure that hearing from him was the last thing Elle wanted after the way Lara tongue wrestled him at the bar.
“I gotta go, babe. You were wonderful,” he whispered into Lara’s ear and kissed her cheek.
Lara’s figure stirred. “I’m sorry to see you go. Who’s going to accompany me to my events, now?”
It had been his intention to have a few naughty rounds with Lara, like they had in the past, but he had so much on his mind. Last night, he refrained from intimacy with her and only played out her fantasy at the bar. Lara wasn’t thrilled—especially since it was her final night with him—but he gently reminded her that she paid him for his time, and sex was not guaranteed. As a long-time client she understood, and they enjoyed a night on the town before they passed out drunk and exhausted at her condo.
“Harvey will take care of you,” Cole responded.
“You’ll be missed.” Lara stretched, twisting the sheets off her naked body. “But I guess it’s time for you to do something new, maybe even settle down.”
Cole scoffed.
“Really. You’re a great guy.” Lara snuggled back into a fetal position.
Cole knew the truth of it. In his business, he and his colleagues and their clients could date without commitment. But even though they all took a detached perspective, they were seeking fulfillment—he sought someone special, even if he pretended otherwise.
He showered, dressed, gave Lara one last good-bye embrace, and made a quick exit. She was his last client and though the escort business had been good to him over the years, he had been offered an opportunity to do deeper work with sex therapist Dr. Helen Ginger. All he had to do was get his consulting business in order so he could do contract work. And for that, he needed help.
He jumped into his ivory white Dodge Challenger. Black and ruby interior greeted him. The engine roared to life and he drove north to his boss’s house.
He arrived at Harvey Miller’s
ranch home in Bedford Hills and was immediately met with questions about the night.
“How’d it go? Was she happy? Satisfied? Pissed that you’re leaving her?” Harvey’s spiked hair was in contrast to his pressed buttoned-down black slacks and polished brown shoes.
Harvey motioned him over to the bar where the housekeeper set out a carafe of coffee and a tray with all its amenities.
“Yeah, we had a great time, man. She’s well satisfied.”
“You’re sure you want to leave this business? What am I gonna do without you?”
They both already knew the answer. “Hire another escort and pimp the ones you have. Those guys pull-in clients, too.”
Harvey sat with him at the bar in his living room as they shared coffee. “I’m going to miss you, man. We had a good run and you’re still my best gigolo who brings in the most clients.”
At twenty-nine, Cole was the most coveted and the hardest to book. Harvey would miss him, but it wasn’t the only thing he’d miss. “You’re going to miss the income.”
Harvey smirked. “But I know you’ve been wanting to make this change for a while. So I wish you luck. Make sure you contact those people I put you in touch with.”
“Yeah, I got ‘em.” Cole was thankful Harvey had finally quit trying to sabotage his plans to leave the escort business. It was only until one drunken night, and a bar fight later between them, that Harvey got the hint that Cole was done.
“They’ll take care of you because I got your back.” Harvey puffed his body builder chest.
“You can keep my picture up to draw in clients and offer them another escort, but the expiration date on that is when Dr. Ginger’s show airs.”
“Hey, I know you aren’t taking clients especially this time of year, but someone new called. You can do whatever you want, but she seemed pretty desperate.”
“Aren’t they all during the holidays?” One too many times he’d seen his fellow gigolos escort women to Christmas parties, family dinners, and on holiday getaways, but not him. “What’s her name?”
“Noelle Rudolph.”
“What’s her fantasy?”
“She needs someone to play her boyfriend for eight days—ten including travel—in Lake Placid for the holidays.”
Cole almost choked on his spit. “Ten days?”
“What’s the matter pretty boy? Too long of a commitment for ya?” Harvey asked.
“Funny.” Cole ignored the bit of truth in Harvey’s statement. “I don’t work the Christmas holiday.”
“Well, you’re the only one available. Maybe you can make an exception, but like I said, it’s your choice. If you want to at least check her out, I’ll set up a coffee date.”
“I don’t know, man.” Cole grumbled. He was a fantasy provider, which meant he had to be “on” when he was with his clients. He could pretend for a long weekend getaway around the clock, no problem, but eight days? He was getting ready to start a new venture and the last thing he needed was something going wrong with his last client.
“Ten days total? That’s a lot of cheddar to leave on the table, man. Hell, I’d do it if I could.” Harvey was married with three kids and one more on the way. He had a short run as a strip club owner and an even shorter run as an escort, Now Harvey managed a global firm of elite escorts who provided fantasies to women worldwide. The business afforded everyone with a very nice lifestyle, but not without its challenges.
“Meet with her for coffee. It can’t hurt. Do something different for the holidays this year instead of being on your own.”
Harvey was setting him up to do one last gig. He was going to have coffee with this woman, but he was pretty sure he would decline the job. “Okay. Set up a meeting and I’ll see if it’s worth one more run.” Cole readied himself to leave.
“You bet,” Harvey grinned.
###
The next day, Cole sat at a coffee shop waiting to meet the client Harvey had mentioned. He had nothing to lose. He was done with the business, so he’d either want to help her or not. There was no pressure for him, but according to Harvey, she was desperate.
The bell on the door rang as it opened, garnering his attention. He couldn’t believe his luck. The woman he’d met at the bar the other night walked into the coffee shop. She was dressed in skintight jeans and a puffy white coat with brown UGGs. She scanned the faces in the coffee shop with tentative steps. She was looking for someone and despite his normally nonchalant approach to women, he hoped it wasn’t a man.
Her eyes found him, and her brows lifted, which pleased him. The expression was fleeting and replaced with a disgust filled grimace, reminding him that she hadn’t forgotten what happened the other night. She gave him a curt nod, ordered a coffee, and parked her curvaceous rear at one of the wooden tables by the window.
He was staring hard when his phone pinged. It was a message from Harvey.
Harv: How’s the client?
Cole: Dunno yet. Hasn’t shown.
Harv: Strange. Lemme check her email for any details and get back to you.
“Elle! Chai tea latte,” the barista called.
Elle sashayed over to the counter to pick up a steaming mug before returning to her seat.
He was sure she didn’t want to give him the time of day but that didn’t stop him from meandering over to her. “Hey.”
She sipped her coffee. “Hello.”
The silence was intentionally awkward. She kept her eyes cast on her steaming cup. Her slender fingers hugged the porcelain.
“What brings you here?” He marveled at the view of her bosom and the slight bit of cleavage peeking out of her wool sweater.
“I’m meeting someone.” She gave a wicked chuckle. He had given her the same line and half expected a man to come out of nowhere and make out with her right in front of him.
“So, you do remember me.” He ventured to squat into the seat across from her.
“No-no. Like I mentioned. I’m waiting for someone.”
He halted at her lack of permission. “Come, on. I want to make it up to you. Let me buy you a scone or something.”
“Don’t you have something better to do than stand over me being all smug or whatever?” Her lips pressed against the mug, accentuating their fullness.
He did, but when she strutted into the coffee shop, she made his day. His phone buzzed.
Harv: Client should be there. Said she’d be wearing a white puffy coat and sitting by the window.
Holy shit! In front of Cole was Elle who met Harv’s description to a T. She was the desperate client? She had an appointment with a gigolo. More specifically, she didn’t realize she was there to meet him.
CHAPTER THREE
Elle smiled from ear to ear. She couldn’t believe her luck. She was meeting a gigolo and right when Nicholas happened to be in the same coffee shop? Payback was going to be sweet. The gigolo in question wasn’t going to come in and suck face with her, but he would definitely give Nicholas a run for his money. Now, if only he’d show up. She was half tempted to allow Nicholas to sit in order to make it even more awkward, but she thought a hot guy showing up would be enough.
“Well.” Surprise sparkled in Nicholas’s striking, almost turquoise blue eyes.
His expression was enough for her to be curious about the message. Did he get an emergency “come fuck me” message from the woman he’d left the bar with or was it from yet another in his lineup?
“Well?” Elle waited as Nicholas raised an eyebrow at her. She was expecting more follow up to his statement, but he didn’t share. What he did was leave. He deserted back to his original seat, draped his jacket over his arm, and grabbed his to go cup.
Jilted again. “Damn,” Elle muttered. She didn’t even get a chance for her payback moment before Nicholas carted his fine ass away. She wished the gigolo would arrive soon.
The elite escort service’s website had the gigolo faces hidden for privacy, but Cole P was under an image of a man in a tux with six-pack abs. The come hither line
at his pelvis had her wishing she had the courage to be sexually free enough to sample his wares. He was the number one requested escort, the most expensive, and his client reviews, that she got access to once she paid a hefty membership fee, were amazing. She was surprised he was available—the only one available, in fact.
The scraping of the wooden legs from the chair opposite her brought her out of her thoughts and she once again smelled bergamot, warm ginger, and spices from Nicholas’s woodsy cologne.
“Why are you back?” She was irritated by her body’s betrayal as her lungs expanded with the small elation from his return.
“It appears I’m the someone you’re waiting for.”
“What are you talking about?” She eyed him through a mesh of lashes.
Nicholas fixed his jacket over the chair and once again faced her. “I’m Cole P.”
Elle’s jaw dropped and she stared at him. “How do you…no…it can’t be…but… Nicholas?”
“Yes. That’s me.” He folded his hands on the table. “I am both. I’ll give you a minute to take it all in.”
She was pissed off by his amusement at her stuttering frenzy. Things were going so well. She was going to get her revenge, and then hire a gigolo to pretend to be her boyfriend for Christmas. Everything was going to go smoothly, but now her foe was her savior.
Her cheeks warmed with embarrassment. “I can’t do this.” She reached for her coat. “I thought I was getting someone professional. Not the jerk I met at the bar.”
He stopped her exit. “Whoa. Don’t be so hasty. I realize you have an issue with me because of how we parted at the bar but—”
“Issue? Is that what you call it?”
“My client came first.”
Elle half covered her mouth. “That woman was your client?”
“Yes,” he stated. “Her fantasy was to steal me from another woman. You made it pretty easy with that, “who do I have to fuck for a drink,” line. You were desperate for a drink and I wanted to help. You were simply a casualty, but you did get a free bottle of Malbec for your troubles.”
