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“You say that like it’s a good thing,” I say with a huff.
She gives me a look as she walks up to Luke. “It is a good thing! You guys need more than just work. You need love.”
“I have love,” Eli says as he devours his dumplings. “I love these peanut butter dumplings. I want to bring them to my office and make love to them.”
“Don’t be gross,” Brooke says as Luke picks a long spring roll.
“Yes!” he shouts before biting into it with a relieved grin on his face.
Eli draws a full one as well and then it’s my turn.
Brooke holds up her hand and I close my eyes and take one. I hear my brothers laughing before I open my eyes, so I know I’m fucked.
My stomach sinks when I open my eyes and see the chewed off end. Brooke grabs it from my hand and eats the rest of it as I drop my head back and stare at the ceiling.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath. “Where the hell am I going to find a date for this thing?”
“How about an escort service?” Eli says with a laugh.
“I have someone,” Brooke says as she sits back down.
Oh, great. This is the last thing I need. A date with one of Brooke’s actress friends…
“She’s an actress, so it will be perfect. Her name is Arya. She’s really sweet and she’s beautiful.”
“How old is this beautiful actress who is very sweet?”
“Twenty-one or twenty-two?” Brooke says. “She just moved to New York from Arkansas. We met in my acting class. She could use some money, so I’m sure she’ll say yes if you pay her.”
“An escort?” I ask wearily.
“She’s an actress,” Brooke corrects with a glare. “Unless you have a better idea…”
I have a better idea. Ditch this charity gala instead. It’s the last thing I want to go to, especially with some girl ten years younger than me who is being paid to be there.
“Thank you,” Westin says for me. “He’ll gladly accept.”
I dump my plate onto the table and sit back with a sigh. Suddenly, I’ve lost my appetite.
Why couldn’t I have picked that other damn spring roll?Chapter TwoArya“How does this look?” I ask Mitchell as I step into the main living room of my apartment.
Mitchell squints his bloodshot eyes as he looks me up and down. He’s the resident stoner of the place and one of my five roommates. Yes, five roommates in a two-bedroom apartment. Living your dream doesn’t come cheap. Especially if you have to move to New York to pursue it.
“What’s this for again?” he asks with a perplexed expression on his face. “A funeral?”
“No, not a funeral! It’s a charity gala. A very exclusive one.”
“What are they charityizing?” Mitchell asks between puffs.
“I don’t know. Something rich people worry about. Baby turtles in the Galapagos or something like that.”
“Well, you look like you’re headed to a funeral.”
I look down at my black dress and cringe. Maybe I would fit in better at a cemetery than on a dance floor with this old thing.
Nolan is picking me up in two hours and I have nothing to wear. My closet isn’t exactly full of ballgowns for a fancy occasion like this. I haven’t socialized much more than hanging out at the pub since I arrived seven months ago.
My stomach is full of butterflies as I grab my phone and text Nolan with trembling fingers.
ARYA
Is this like a really formal gala?NOLAN
Yes.ARYA
What should I be wearing?NOLAN
Dress.I sigh as I toss my phone onto the couch. This guy is a pure delight. Nothing but one word abrupt answers after another. I’m getting the impression he wants to go to this thing as much as I do.
At least, I’m getting paid for it. A thousand dollars to spend an evening smiling, eating gourmet food, and clinging onto the arm of Brooke’s older brother. That will help with the insane NY rent and with my crippling student loan debts. Hopefully, if I charm Nolan well enough, this can become a regular thing. Apparently, he is a total workaholic who has no use for a girlfriend—Brooke’s words.
Speaking of Brooke, she was supposed to be here to help me get ready…
A couple of minutes later, she’s knocking on the door.
“Thank God you’re here,” I say as I let her in. She has a huge vinyl bag draped over her arm and a big grin on her face.
“Who died?” she asks with a cringing face as she looks me up and down.
“Told you!” Mitchell adds from the couch.
I guess my long black dress that covers my ankles and my cleavage is not a hit.
“What’s in there?” I ask, ignoring her question.
“This,” she says as she holds up the bag with a smile, “is your dress for tonight. Come. Let’s try it on.”
I share a room with two other girls, but luckily, they’re both at work. I sleep on a small couch and they have the bunk beds. I know Brooke has a lot of money, but she’s gracious enough not to make any comments about my below-poverty-line living.
