by Katrina Liss
As I follow Ella’s gaze and take in the amazing decor, I have to hand it to Mom, this particular venue is sweet as fuck. Flowers everywhere, colors blending with the courthouse's ancient pastel panelling… it's all peachy sweetness and light. Much like my fake girlfriend.
“I'm ashamed to say I’m not really that hungry,” Ella mutters apologetically. “It’s probably just nerves.”
“You need to eat something, to soak up some alcohol.”
“I don’t drink much.”
“You gotta have one at least. I am and I don’t like drinking alone.”
“I guess I can.”
I chow down a mini salmon sandwich and crunch some potato chips, popping one between her protesting lips. “And for dessert… ah, here we go...” I lob a juicy grape in my mouth and one in hers. “So, dinner’s done and dusted. Shall we move on?”
“Mister Funny Guy, are you?” she says with a sweet giggle.
I cock a brow. “I try.”
I notice my mother approaching us with an old guy in tow as we loiter by the buffet.
“Uh-oh, we need to escape another inquisition.”
I notice the DJ has just started playing a sexy, slower beat. Dragging Ella along, I take long strides towards the dance floor.
“Ah, Victor, I’d like you and Ella to meet—”
I cock my thumb at the dance floor. “This is one of our favorites, Mom. See you in a bit.”
If she responded I don’t know and don’t care, because I’m now safely out of earshot.
Chapter Seven
Ella
As Victor leads me by the hand onto the dance floor, I'm grateful to avoid being under the microscope.
Shirley Walker is sharp as a sword and keen eyed as an eagle. My first attempt at convincing her that Vic and I are inseparable was less than believable. I hated that conversation. Every minute of it. Vic seems to be such a natural at deceiving her. He's all charm, poise and self confidence while delivering his lies. I don’t think I like that about him. But I guess he has a different kind of relationship with his mother than I did with mine.
My mom and dad brought me up to tell the truth. I couldn’t ever lie to save my damn life. And I don’t want to lie. Creating a backstory and pretending we're in love seems fundamentally wrong. I hadn’t envisaged I’d have to do this kind of stuff when I signed up for the job. I’d imagined being a casual acquaintance; a first or second time dinner partner. Never this kind of scenario. I’m going to have to speak to Morag about this after. It's way out of my comfort zone.
I can feel his mother’s eyes following us as we disappear into the crowd of dancers. Quite a few couples join us, all moving in time to a Whitney classic. I Have Nothing.
My mom was a die-hard fan of hers.
I’m more of a club dancer than a smoocher. Give me some hip hop or raunchy R&B and I know all the moves. But this? I’ve not smooch-danced once in my life before.
But first time for everything.
It’s just a shame that I’m first-time smooching now, what with me being an escort and it being so fake.
Victor takes control and pulls me against him. A strong arm wraps around my waist and he guides my every movement. His other hand lifts mine so that our fingers entwine.
Whitney trills away, hitting those high notes that make your ears go pop.
It’s a soft and sweet smooch, and Vic seems pretty into it.
He sighs in my ear. “Gotta love this.”
“Like your music romantic, do you?”
He pulls back and looks into my eyes.
"The right time and place, yeah.” He winks and dips his head, pressing his cheek to mine, moving us even closer and tighter.
Holy crap, I couldn’t be more aware of him.
My temperature rockets. I think I just melted.
“Having fun?” he whispers close to my ear.
“I guess.”
“Good. Because our fake relationship isn’t just for tonight.”
A frisson of fear races down my spine.
“I need to speak to Ms Jenkins first… I’m not sure if—”
“I’ve explained my situation to her already,” he cuts in. “She’s fine with it on an ongoing basis.”
“She is?”
“I made it quite clear what I wanted. A fake girlfriend for a few dates. Open ended. Two, three four… we'll see.”
Maybe I’m overreacting. This kind of scenario could be quite common in the escorting world. Although I could have done with being forewarned or the choice of an easier ride the first time out of the gate. “All right then,” I murmur.
“Don't worry about things. Just chill… smile… look like you’re enjoying yourself.”
I raise a smile. It’s not that hard to do when I look at Victor. He’s so impossibly handsome, I can’t help smile with the visual pleasure. And the way he feels right now, pressed up against me, is damn good too.
He hugs me closer again and my head settles against his shoulder. Without even trying, I drift into the zone. The imaginary zone where he really is my boyfriend.
Our hips glide in a sexy rhythm and our bodies sway together to the song. I bite hard on my lip, trying to concentrate on my breathing. All thoughts of being professional seem to have flown out the window. His hand has slowly slipped down from my waist and I’m aware of how his fingertips press into the fabric of my dress covering my backside. I can feel every line of his hard body flush against my own. Heat floods through me at an alarming rate. I could have done with some real life experience to cope with this a bit better.
I didn’t think I could heat up even hotter, until his lips touch my neck and I go nuclear.
“Just for appearance’s sake,” he murmurs into my ear, making a meal of my neck and ear lobe, his teeth tugging gently at my earring. “Mother’s looking our way.”
I smother a groan, enjoying his caress so much I close my eyes, uncaring whether she's watching or not.
As his breath whispers across my cheek, a shudder of pure delight rolls down my spine with an almost painful slowness.
Wetness seeps from every feminine fold I possess.
I stiffen in his arms, pulling back, trying to put some distance between us.
“Relax. Just play the part, beautiful,” he murmurs with a seductive tone that sends me off somewhere.
I turn my head so that I'm gazing into his steely grey eyes. Determined, sexy eyes.
“I am relaxed.” I force out the words with a quiet gasp as he squeezes the cheek of my ass with his large hand. “Will you please move your hand up. That’s out of order.” Thankfully, he obliges, hooking his hand back around my waist. “For your information, this is my first ever escorting job and I need some time to get in the groove, never mind being an Oscar winning actress!”
He pulls back and his brows furrow. “Morag told me you were new to the company, but I never realized this was your first time on the job?”
“Everyone has to start somewhere, including escorts.”
He hums. “You’re doing okay so far, for a novice.”
“I’m following your lead, aren’t I?”
What is he saying actually? That I need to up my game a little more?
I need to please this client, and get good feedback. It won’t be that much of a hardship seeing Victor a few more times. It’s just a job after all. Gotta get my head out of the moral cloud. This is all pretense. I’m only doing it for the cash, right?
"You’re just perfect," he chuckles as he twirls me under his arm. Then I'm hugged close to him again as we smooch and sway like a pair of besotted lovers.
The hand at the small of my back is now stroking up and down my spine. He’s such a damn good stroker, my legs are about to give way.
Does he realize what he’s doing to me?
Dammit, I think my professionalism has just gone on vacation.
Suddenly we’re interrupted by a guy with a wide smile. He’s pretty cute, dark haired with big brown eyes.
He taps
Vic on the shoulder. “Hey, can I cut in, pal?”
“No, you can’t,” Vic growls, giving him the cold shoulder and swiftly moving us away.
I send the guy an apologetic smile over Vic’s shoulder. He shrugs and with a cock of his head, stalks off.
“Who was that?” I ask.
"Just a shark out for a sweet piece of meat,” he replies.
I laugh out loud. Victor’s sense of humor is growing on me.
A minute later, Whitney comes to an end and the beat goes up tempo. The floor starts to clear.
“Right, my little one, let’s take a break, go cool off somewhere,” he says brushing his fingers through his hair and looking around the crowd.
I flash him a little smile of thankfulness, “Sure.”
I could do with a break. I need to sit down. Damn you shoes. I never knew toes could get so brutally pinched.
As we leave the dance floor, we pass a server with an open champagne bottle on a tray. Nimbly, with a finger and thumb, Vic steals the bottle away and leads us away from the crowd, through a doorway.
“So where are we going?”
“I know just the spot to have a quiet moment.”
I expected to be sitting with other people. People he knows. Playing his girlfriend.
“Shouldn’t we go mingle? Aren’t you supposed to be meeting and networking with the people here?”
He stops in the corridor we’ve just entered and turns to face me.
“They’re my mother’s friends and acquaintances, not mine. We’ll go mingle a little later, to please her. I need to pledge some funds anyway. My mother may be a pain in the ass, but her causes are always good.” He tightens his grip on my hand, leading me further into the building and away from the crowds.
Morag’s words return to me. Remember boundaries.
Chapter Eight
Vic
For the first time since I came up with this idea, I’m beginning to wonder if it was such a wise move.
And my concern is not so much for me, but for Ella.
When I set this up, she was an unknown escort. Someone with no name, no face and no feelings.
But now I know a little more.
She’s brand-new to the world of escorting and I’ve got her to play my fake girlfriend, and lie to my mother, which she clearly doesn't like to do. I feel rubbing elbows with the social elite, with whom my mother mixes, might be a step too far in one night. She’s struggling with what I’ve thrown at her over the last half hour. And being out there, it’ll only get worse.
I’ve not thought this through very well, but now I’m forced to.
That’s enough role playing for now.
I don’t want any more slip ups. We need to step back from the limelight. My escort needs some downtime, away from prying eyes.
And we need to talk some facts.
I push open the door to a tiny back office, which is very cramped and smaller than I recall. My father brought me in here once, years ago when I was a kid. I don’t remember why, but it was something urgent, he needed to make a call.
There’s a doll's house size sofa in the room, and we drop on it together. I drag the low side table around as a footrest. Ella kicks off her shoes with a sigh and we both pop our feet on the table. With no champagne glasses, we’ll have to share, pass the bottle back and forth.
I take a long glug of the champagne and it fizzes delightfully up my nose.
“It’s a good bottle of bubbly; the ultimate mix of sweet and dry.” I hold up the bottle and examine the label. I’m a bit of a connoisseur. Or like to believe I am.
“Gimme some of that.” She holds out her hand for the bottle. She’s very enthusiastic with her turn, taking three good mouthfuls. I watch her pouty lips purse around the ring of the bottle and wonder how they’d feel around my cock. Innappropriate, but that's how my mind works.
Her pretty eyes dart around the room, taking everything in with interest.
“Are you sure it’s okay we’re in here?”
“Nah, but I like to live dangerously.”
She raises her brows.
“O-kay, but this was your idea, right? I’m gonna play the innocent if we’re caught.”
“Sure thing.” My arm drapes itself along the back of the sofa, resting against her shoulders. I'm pleased she doesn’t flinch away. She seems to be a lot more relaxed around me after that dance. That’s a good thing.
“So, what got you into escorting?”
She takes a swig of the bottle and champagne coats her lips with a glossy sheen. She licks them dry.
“Well,” she begins, casting a glance my way, “I dropped out of med school a little while back.”
“You were studying to be a doctor?”
“I thought I wanted to be a doctor, like my dad. But when push came to shove, my heart wasn’t in it. And I couldn’t waste money and time pursuing something I wasn’t cut out for. So now I’m taking time out in the city to work and find out what I want to do.”
I cock my head, watching her. “I assume escorting isn’t the end game then?”
“Of course not. But it pays the bills way better than my last job. New York is an expensive city to live in.”
“I guess it is.” Money isn’t really an issue with me. Nor has it been my whole life. I guess I’ve been lucky. She passes me back the bottle and I take a hefty swig. “It was a brave decision though, leaving college.”
A frown turns down the corners of her mouth as she turns toward me. There’s sadness and insecurity in her eyes. “How was it brave? I screwed up—failed dismally.” She wrings her hands together.
“Sometimes it takes failing to succeed. When I started my company, I almost tanked it multiple times before I finally figured out how to run it right. And that meant choosing a completely different business model than I’d been using before. If you need to move in a new direction, then move.”
She mulls this over, taking the bottle again, swigging a few dainty mouthfuls and then passing it back.
When I lift the bottle, I find it’s almost empty. Fair enough, it was only half full when I took it, but still, the effects of the little I’ve had are creeping up on me fast. Likely due to lack of a proper meal. And I think Ella is feeling it too. Her gaze is unfocused, a little blurred.
“My turn to interrogate you now,” she says with a smirk. “Why d’you need to pay for a fake girlfriend? I mean, I know your mom is a little overbearing, I can see that, but I’m pretty sure a guy like you could get a date for free.”
I shrug a shoulder and gaze off, toward the window. "I stopped dating a year ago. Dates lead to complications. And complications I don’t want." There's no need for me to tell her why. How Emma burrowed her way into my life three years ago, her goal to snag a rich guy. She manipulated me like a pro. Her and her bitch of a mother. Until I caught them... scheming.
She stares at me thoughtfully.
“Okay, I understand you don't want a relationship. But I think you'll find paying an escort has its own complications. This isn't a permanent solution. What are you gonna do, keep breaking up and hiring another escort?”
I drink another mouthful of bubbly and offer her the last turn.
“I dunno yet. But that’s not your concern. I just need you to play your part now.”
“Vic, honestly, a string of escorts isn't the answer. Tell your mom you're a confirmed bachelor. You don’t want a wife. You don’t want kids. Her dream isn't yours.”
I raise my eyebrows. "You think I haven't done that? Over and over? And it's not like I don't want a family eventually… I just don't want my nose rubbed in the shit all the fucking time."
She takes my hand in hers, turning her body toward me.
"Well, like I said, I don't agree with this, because I don’t like lies or hurting people, but as my client, you’re my priority, so I’ll do my very best for you.”
Finishing the bottle, she stands up with the empty, taking it towards a trash can in the corner of the room. I think she needed
an excuse to get away. We were getting a little bit too heavy there.
I stand and push the little table back into position.
She comes closer, facing me. “Shall we go back now?”
“Victor, for God’s sake, where are you?” Mother yells out from the other end of the hallway.
“In here, Mom.” I yell back.
My eyes lock with Ella’s as my mind ticks over.
I need a visual statement. A good reason for being in here.
Something that will fully convince my mother that Ella and I are a hot item.
As the door opens, I step back, and sink down on the nearby sofa pulling Ella on top of me. She squeaks in protest. The way I’m holding her, her legs can’t help but part and straddle my hips, her dress pooling around the plump curve of her ass. I place her palms on my chest.
It feels damn hot to have her sitting on me, just there, where it matters. My cock hardens in seconds.
“Victor, I wanted to make sure that I saw you before we draw the pri—oh my goodness!” squeals my mother, slapping her hand over her eyes. “I'm sorry! I should have guessed you two lovebirds were having a moment. I’ll see you later! But don’t you dare leave without seeing me first, okay?”
“Sure, Mom.” I stifle a laugh as she bolts from the room, the door slamming shut behind her.
“Bravo. She’s properly fooled now,” whispers Ella. Her voice accusing, and her eyes locking on mine.
I take her hands and wrap them round my neck, leaning back a little and pulling her with me. “I hope so.” I gaze into her eyes, feeling extremely attracted to her. It’s like my body has woken up from a very deep sleep.
She must feel just how turned on I am. The way her legs are spread over my lap..
“We should go.” Ella says squirming in my grip.
“Sure,” I murmur, still feeling a little lightheaded with drink and lust. “Wanna go back to my place?”
What did I just say? Has my brain disconnected from my tongue? I could bite the fucking thing off, dammit...
“I’m not that kind of girl,” she states firmly, pursing her lips. She pushes herself off me and up, her arms folding over her breasts.