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"Um…Eric? I hate to break it to you, but you can't stick my non-existent girlfriend into Jess's non-existent pipe," I said. I didn't know what the hell he was talking about. "I don't have a girlfriend. I don't want a girlfriend. I just barely got rid of my wife, who was a Grade A pain in my ass. I'm not ready for anything else. Not even close."
He smiled at me. "You don't have to be ready. You just have to look like you are."
"I don't understand." Maybe Eric was finally losing his touch.
"I'm going to hire a girlfriend for you. For show." He'd pulled out his phone and his fingers were already flying over it, tapping away.
"I think you've officially lost it, buddy. I thought it was just me, but now I'm pretty sure it's you, too." I looked at him as if he had three heads, but he was ignoring me.
Eric feverishly scrolled through his phone. "Do you remember Cole Bryson?"
I stared at him. "What the fuck are you talking about now?"
"Cole Bryson—that dude who owns the Thunder?"
Cole Bryson was a billionaire investment guy I knew from Boston. He also owned a Bruins farm team, the Rhode Island Thunder. I liked Cole, but I hadn't talked to him in ages. "Yeah, I know Bryson. What the hell does he have to do with anything?"
Eric looked up from his phone and smiled. "A buddy of mine just went to Cole's wedding. He married an escort. He hired her and then they fell in love. No shit. My friend said the bride and all of her escort friends were smoking hot. So I'm getting one for you. A cute one."
My headache was back in full force. "Eric…shut the fuck up." The last thing I needed in my life right now was a hooker.
He ignored me, his fingers flying back over the phone. "No way. I'm going to get the number for the agency. I'm hiring the hottest woman on the planet to be your girlfriend. She's going to have an airtight confidentiality agreement, Chase. And a rocking bod—with real boobs. I'll ask specifically for that. Jess'll hate it."
I opened my mouth to object, but he cackled, cutting me off. "I can't wait to see the look on Jessica's face," he said gleefully.
And with that, he started talking on the phone before I could stop him. Before I could ask him if he'd actually gone completely, utterly nuts.
Chapter Five
AVERY
"It's a high-profile assignment," Elena was saying, but it was as if I couldn't hear her.
Fifty thousand dollars. That'd been the first thing out of her mouth. After that, my knees had buckled and I had to sit down. Everything else she'd said was fuzzy.
"Avery." She cleared her throat. "Look at me, honey."
I looked at the madam, finding her spiky, frosted hair and maroon lipstick strangely comforting. I'd never figured out how Elena had gotten into the business when she looked like a soccer mom from Wellesley. Then some of the other girls had told me that she actually was a soccer mom from Wellesley…who just happened to run an escort service.
"Are you okay?" Elena asked, breaking my reverie.
I swallowed hard over the newly formed lump in my throat. "That's a lot of money."
She nodded. "I know. I want this client. He could be a huge source of confidential, big-money referrals for me. And I know that kind of money would be life-changing for you."
I couldn't even wrap my brain around it. With fifty thousand dollars in my pocket, we wouldn't get evicted. Ever. I could afford to send Lila to rehab. I could stop hooking. I could take classes and get a different job—one that didn't involve a stranger's hands all over me.
I shivered.
"Are you up for this?" the madam asked.
"Of course," I said immediately. "But why me? Why not one of the regular girls?"
Elena smiled. "The client wants the cleanest and the hottest girl I have. That's you, all day long. You'll have to have your drug and STD testing updated, of course," she said. "Are either one of those going to be a problem?"
"No," I said, my voice hoarse.
"Have you been taking your pills every day?"
