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“That good in the sack, huh?” he says while making a lewd gesture with his hand.
I grunt.
“You know, you’re such a depraved asshole that I don’t know why I talk to you. But have you ever been really into someone before? And I don’t mean just physically. I mean, spending time with her and all that shit, even if sex isn’t involved.”
Bruce just stares at me, and I kick myself. Of course not. My brother has always been the love ‘em and leave ‘em type, and I’m wasting my breath. But then he surprises me.
“There was a girl once,” he says in a casual tone. “Back in my first year of college. I’m pretty sure I was in love with her because I did dumb shit like changing my schedule so I could walk with her to her classes even if I was going in the opposite direction. It was cute, come to think of it. We spent most of our time outside class together, even if we were both just studying, and it was nice. Peaceful even.”
Wow. This is the first time I’m hearing anything from Bruce that even resembles love. I always thought he was a horndog who was motivated only by his second head. “So what happened?” I ask.
He shrugs. “It turned out there was some cocky football asshole after her, and as soon as she got him, she was done with me.”
“Shit, Bruce. I’m sorry.”
He merely grunts.
“No, it’s fine. I got to sample her butt a couple times before I was dumped so it was totally worth it. Now, tell me about your girl.”
I roll my eyes. Trust my brother to be a total lech, no matter the circumstance. Regardless, I start describing Angela. “She’s feisty with a hot temper, and I’m pretty sure she would scare the pants off most of the men we know. She isn’t afraid to speak her mind, or to stand up for herself. Actually, it’s not just stand up. This girl will fight for herself, and I like it.” A picture of Angie banging her fists against the door while screaming epithets makes me chuckle. “And she’s beautiful, did I mention? Not like a skinny one-size-fits-all blow-up doll with fake tits and a plastic face. She’s really gorgeous with long brown hair and ass that won’t quit. One of a kind, with a smart mouth too.”
My brother smirks.
“Well, you know what you can do with a smart mouth.”
I scowl at him.
“Don’t even go there. This woman is off limits to you.”
Bruce merely smirks again, but raises his hands in surrender.
“Okay, fine, fine. But brother, you’ve got it bad.”
“You think so?”
“Definitely. Hell, you’re already gone.” Then, my kid bro gets up and heads to the door.
“Where are you going?”
He turns back, smirking again. “To leave you alone so you can beat off to your woman in private. It sounds like you need to get that locked down before someone else realizes what a prize she is.” And then, he strolls out of my office and shuts the door behind him.
Oh shit, Bruce has a point. My brother has no idea that Angela works for City Girls, and I can’t let any other guy get to her. Fuck, what do I do? Frantically, I pull up the agency’s contact info on my phone and press dial.
A voice answers on the first ring. “Hello, City Girls.”
“Margaux,” I growl. Fortunately, the middle manager recognizes my voice right away.
“Mr. Wilshire. How can I help you today?”
I shake my head. “I need a date with Angela, stat. You know, the one from the viewing room?”
Margaux pauses only for a moment.
“Oh, I’m so glad you liked the young lady from the other night. We’d be happy to contact her on your behalf.”
I merely grunt.
“Set up a date for this Friday night. I’ll pick her up at seven. You can text me her address at this number.”
“Certainly,” Margaux says. “I’ll get on that right away. It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Wilshire. Our bill, as always, will be emailed to you.”
Without saying goodbye, I hang up the phone and shudder because something about that woman just rubs me the wrong way. Maybe it’s Margaux’s job because really, she’s a handler for young women looking to entrap rich men. But regardless, I want to take Angie out, and when I see her Friday, I’ll make her an offer so generous that she’ll never work for City Girls again.
6
Angie
The last thing I expected after the scene I made in the viewing room was to have City Girls call me to say that Peter Wilshire wants to see me again. We got along well in bed, but he paid ten thousand dollars for the privilege and that’s a lot. Can he really afford a second date?
Then again, I’m conflicted because my whole spiel is that I’m not an escort, and yet now, I’m being paid money to see him a second time. So what does that make me? A hypocrite? A money-hungry whore? With a sinking heart, I realize that both “money-hungry” and “whore” apply to me, even if I have good intentions behind my actions.
