Bad Boys for Hire_Nick_Christmas Holiday

by Rachelle Ayala

  It was as if she’d said, ready, set, go. Jolie, Nikki, Leanna, and Marisa took off to the races. They fanned out through the room and flipped through the racks with that determined stare women have when evaluating clothes, while Carol wheeled from one mannequin to another.

  “I can’t picture how the dresses would look sitting down,” she told Jenna. “Everything drapes well when standing.”

  “That’s where I’d like to get your help,” Jenna said. “I’m designing a new line of evening wear for wheelchair users. The main focus of the decorative elements will be in the front and not in the back as much, although backs are very sexy, so you can still have a low back, if you like. Obviously, trains are out, as are ruffles and fringes below the knees.”

  “Some of us have scars on our back,” Carol mentioned. “From the broken vertebrae and the surgery afterwards.”

  “Oh, I hadn’t thought about that,” Jenna said, picking up a fire-engine red lace embellished gown. “Look at this one. It has an illusion-paneled racer back edged with lace and a keyhole design exposing the small of your lower back, perfect for a man’s hand to rest on. Will that be better?”

  “For me, yes. My injury is in the middle back, not lower back.”

  “Would you like to try this on?” Jenna handed Carol the dress.

  “Sure, but it might take a bit for me to wiggle the dress under me.”

  “Take your time,” Jenna said. “Your friends are loading up with dresses. It looks like we’ll be partying here for a while. Won’t we, Harley?”

  She ruffled the little dog’s floppy ears, and he grunted with pleasure.

  “Could I ask you a question?” Carol lowered her voice and gestured for Jenna to come closer. “How much do these dresses run? I don’t want to waste your time.”

  “For you? Cost of materials.”

  “That’s a steal. I can’t let you do this.”

  “I’m designing a sit-down line, as I told you, and I’m hoping you can help me.” Jenna grinned and winked. “Maybe even agree to be a model for my Valentine’s Day runway show?”

  “Oh, I could never!” Carol clapped a hand over her chest. “I’m not fashionable.”

  Jenna cupped her hand at Carol’s ear and whispered, “Here’s a secret. Neither am I when I get up in the morning. Fashion is an attitude you put on every day.”

  “Then, I’ve got plenty of that.” Carol chuckled. “You must let me buy gowns for my friends at your regular price. I have two more, Sherelle and Terri, who didn’t come along. I’d like them all to have new dresses for the party this Friday.”

  “Why, that’s awfully generous of you,” Jenna said, glancing at Carol’s posse. “Looks like they’ve got an armful of dresses picked out for you already.”

  “Carol, you’re going to look so gorgeous in this.” Jolie was the first of the Bumblebees to raise the dress she chose. “Look at this. Princess neckline, empire waist, a simple A-line with glittery rhinestones and best of all, it’s the sweetest shade of pink I’ve ever seen.”

  Carol tried not to cringe visibly, but that dress would put Cinderella herself back in grammar school.

  “She’s not a baby, sheesh,” Leanna said, wiggling her hips and dancing around with an electric purple off the shoulder dress with a cascade of ruffles down the front. “Now this. This is something to shake your bootie for. It shows off your muscular shoulders, pushes out those humongous boobs of yours and covers your waistline with ruffles. Sexy mama!”

  Before Carol could comment that the dress looked more like sexy Leanna than anything she’d ever put on, Nikki slithered her way into view, shaking a sleek, slinky, silvery sequined sheath with a side split almost to the hip.

  “This one’s perfect for you. It’s a slim line that’ll flash a bit of leg. Mysterious and alluring, men will want more than a peek.” Nikki dropped the sea of glittery sequins on her lap.

  Did she wonder how it would feel to sit on all of those sequins the entire night? Not to mention that anyone prone to epilepsy or seizures had better wear blinders for her keynote speech. Besides, who wanted to look like a fish ready to be scaled? Maybe Nikki?

  “Wait, wait.” Marisa huffed into view.

  Carol’s jaw dropped as her sister rolled over an entire rack. “Toga inspired. These will be the most comfortable. I know you’ll get sweaty sitting in a chair under the glare of spotlights. This is made of the finest Egyptian linens. They even have the gold bands for the shoulder and matching gold belts. The marinara color will look perfect on you.”

  “Yes, perfectly edible,” Carol muttered under her breath.

  “So, which one will you try on first?” Jenna asked. She placed her red, lace edged racer back dress on Carol’s lap.

  Carol turned and smiled at her eager friends, each waiting with bated breath for her to pick the dress they liked. “Why don’t I try all of them on and model them for you? Then I can tell you what works and what doesn’t?”

  “I can do the makeup for each dress,” Jolie exclaimed.

  “Wait, wait, let me set up my camera and video this,” Nikki said, rushing to her backpack.

  “And I can be your dressing helper.” Marisa gave Carol a peck on the cheek.

  “I suppose running out to grab a dozen cupcakes is out of the question?” Leanna laughed. “Let me go pick the accessories then.”

  “Hooray, let’s have a runway show!” Jenna clapped, and her dog raised his head and howled.

  “You mean a rollway show,” Carol couldn’t help adding, and everyone laughed.

  This was going to be a very, merry Christmas Gala indeed, Carol thought, as she wiggled out of her clothes and pulled herself into the baby-pink gown.

  Only one problem. How was she going to get up the nerve to ask Nick to escort her?

  Her palms sweat and her throat went dry every time she thought about it. She’d never asked a guy out before, and now, with her friends expecting him to say “yes,” it would be too mortifying if he turned her down.

  Twenty-Eight

  “This is Nick. I won’t be able to do any more workout sessions because I’m getting out of the personal training business. I’ll be happy to refer you to any of my colleagues, and I wish you a very merry Christmas and a happy, healthy New Year.” Nick left a message with a client, an investment banker, and checked her off the list.

  He punched in the number to the next one, a proctologist, and got her voice mail. “Hey, it’s Nick. I’m not going to be able to schedule any more workout sessions. If you’d like a referral …”

  And so it went. He could have sent a bulk email, but that felt so impersonal. Better to remind the women how good he’d made them feel working out and sweating. If anyone picked up the phone, he could chat a little, massage her ego, and then refer her to a half a dozen friends eager to go after his gold clientele.

  His student loans were halfway paid, and he was cutting off his income. But there was no way he could look Carol in the face and tell her he loved her when he was basically a male hooker hiding behind personal training and fitness coach.

  As for the Bad Boys gig, it was far too easy for a client to claim he’d gone further than simple escort service or fake date. No self-respecting girlfriend would put up with it, and truth to tell, he was no longer interested in even giving the appearance of having had sex with his clients.

  He called one after another, leaving voicemails and occasionally a short conversation. Most let it go easily. A few tried to say that they could still date or hook up sometime, but he politely declined.

  He saved Brianna for last.

  Just as he was about to call Brianna, his cell phone chimed with an incoming text message. It was Carol.

  Hey, sorry I missed you. The girls and I are downtown. Are we still getting a tree this evening?

  Darn sure we are, he texted back. Call me when you’re ready. Hope you’re having a great time.

  I am. It’s good going out with my friends.

  I miss you, Nick texted. Can’t wait to
get the perfect tree.

  Same here. How’s Heather doing?

  She’s resting. Sam’s putting in a shower seat for her and renting a wheelchair for her to get around.

  Let me know if she needs any tips on using the chair. I can’t wait to meet her. We can go out for a walk together, or should I say, a roll?

  Nick grinned, picturing Heather and Carol making friends. They would get along great.

  Rock and roll, he texted. See you this evening.

  He wanted to type “love you,” but that would be too freaky. He’d never felt all gooey and icky about anyone before. Was he turning into a good guy like Sam?

  After exiting his messaging app, Nick took a drink of ice water and several deep breaths. Lying to Brianna about the sexually transmitted disease had backfired. She was now a mess, and if she found out he had lied, she could sue him for emotional distress.

  He was really in big trouble now. She would be on tether-hooks for three months until the retest and likely bugging him every day. She’d already called him three times since he dropped her off to ask him if he could think of any other symptoms.

  Nick closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. His head throbbed with a tension headache, but he had to get this over with. What could he offer Brianna to get her to go away?

  She was so clingy, he wouldn’t foist her on his worst enemy.

  His phone rang and sure enough, it was Brianna.

  “I was thinking,” she said without greeting him. “If you’re sure you never had unprotected sex before I sucked you off, then how would you have gotten HIV? Maybe your flu-like symptoms are from the regular flu. When was the last time you were tested before today?”

  Sigh. It was time to tell the truth.

  “Brianna, I always get tested on my birthday and that was in October. I probably don’t have HIV. Honestly, you’re the one who jumped on the Kaposi sarcoma, lesions, and HIV. I was trying to get away from you and I told you a white lie.”

  “A white lie? Are you kidding?” Brianna’s voice stabbed his ear.

  He held the phone at arm’s length and closed his bedroom door.

  “I’m sorry. Maybe if I tell you the truth, you’ll understand.”

  “I’m listening, but I can’t promise to understand. You played me, Nick Wolff. If you lied about getting HIV, what other lies have you told me?”

  “It doesn’t matter now. I’m quitting the personal training business.”

  “Because of me? But you’re so good at it.”

  “I can’t do it anymore. I met a woman I really like, and she’ll never understand. I know you like all this drama with me, but it has to end. Let’s be adult about this and call it even.”

  “But you still owe me. And now, with your lies, you owe me more.”

  “Why would you want to be around me, a liar?” Nick raised his voice. “Why would you want me? I’m a whore. A liar. A cheater. I sleep with women for money. Not just you, but everyone else. Why would you want to be one of a string?”

  “You don’t get it, stupid. I don’t want to fall in love with you. I enjoy your body. I get off on controlling you. When I have your face in my pussy, I feel powerful.”

  “Why me? Why not a more distinguished man? How about a police chief? Or a senator? Or even a former president? Brianna, the sky’s the limit on powerful men. I’m just a poor history major with a tattoo of my great-grandfather on my shoulder. When my nephew or niece is born, I’m going to be changing diapers. When I get my new job, I’ll be helping disabled people exercise. When I go out with the woman I love, I’m going to be stowing her wheelchair in her van and holding an umbrella over her as we walk down the street together.”

  “Hmmm … if you put it that way.” Brianna’s voice grew steely. “You’d rather date a cripple than me?”

  “Yes, but she’s not a cripple. She’s a wonderful woman who happens to use a wheelchair.”

  “Is she the one I saw you racing around the track with?”

  Nick’s pulse jumped. Had Brianna been stalking him? Was she unhinged? She’d said it was all about power and control. Maybe he would never be rid of her. He’d told her too much already. Time to regroup.

  “Hey, Miss Barrister. It’s been interesting talking to you, but now that you don’t have to worry about the HIV or any other sexually transmitted disease, let’s just agree to leave each other alone.”

  “I can’t give you up. You’re the only man who can make me come. I can’t even have orgasms by myself.”

  Too much information. Nick grimaced and palmed his forehead.

  “Have you tried a sex toy? I’m sure they can last a heck of a lot longer than I can. They have ones with rabbit ears, rotating beads and thrusters. I can put one under the Christmas tree for you if you promise to leave me alone.”

  “Why don’t you come to my place and put it under my tree for me now?” Brianna’s voice turned husky and seductive.

  This woman did not get it. It was time to go with the big guns.

  “You slapped me this morning,” Nick said with a stony voice. “It was captured on security video at the gym.”

  “So? Given the circumstances of you lying to me, I have good cause.”

  “There’s never good cause for assault. I’ve already asked the manager to save the video. If you don’t leave me alone, I’ll have no choice but to release it to your law firm.”

  “Then I’ll tell your brother what a pig you are. Your chances with the police academy are shot.”

  “I don’t care about the police academy.” Nick played his trump card. “My brother loves me no matter what.”

  “Maybe he does, but I’m betting little Miss Wheelie wouldn’t be that generous.” Brianna laughed. “But since I’m in a generous mood, how about we cut a deal?”

  Nick’s stomach ground into itself. Something bad was about to happen when a lawyer said she was in a generous mood.

  “What’s the deal?”

  “I agree that you’re not the best arm candy, even though you portrayed yourself as a sexy stud, but I’m in a bind. I really need a date to a party this weekend. My bosses will be there and everyone is coupled. I hate to be the odd one out. It’ll be a dinner for charity, and we’ll be done before midnight. If you ask the manager to erase the video and swear on a stack of Bibles that you’ll never show that video to anyone, I’ll let you off the hook after the dinner.”

  “Any catches or fine print on that?”

  “No. Actually, throw in that rabbit ear vibrator you were talking about and we’ll call it even-Steven.”

  “I can do that. And no dirty tricks, right? Remember, you have more to lose than I have. If your bosses knew you were paying men for sex …”

  “I expect you to be on your best behavior,” Brianna said. “That video better not come out.”

  “As long as you leave me alone.” Nick opened his nightstand and took out a Bible. “I’m swearing on my mother’s Bible right now.”

  “Great, and it won’t hurt if you introduce me to some of your fellow trainers. You know the type I like.”

  “I’ll refer you to a handful of hunks. Don’t worry. When is this party?”

  “Friday night. I’ll text you the directions. If you need a tux, charge it to me. I’ll have a limo waiting at seven in front of your apartment.”

  “Sure. Anything else?” Nick dared not hope he could get off so easily. One dinner date and then, freedom.

  “Nothing. Just don’t come dressed as Santa, okay?”

  “Got it.”

  Twenty-Nine

  Trying on all the gowns should have made her decision easier, but all the opinions only confused Carol more. Every gown had its pluses and minuses, but Carol hated to be a picky customer.

  Her thoughts kept going back to the asymmetrical one in the lobby with the river of silver tube beads, but no one had chosen it for her, not even Jenna, and she felt stupid asking to take it off the mannequin. Meanwhile, her friends were having major disagreements, so bad that it looked li
ke the afternoon would turn into an all-out catfight.

  “She should get either the red one or the silvery sequins.” Nikki shook the two dresses in Leanna’s face. “The one you picked will make her look fat.”

  “No it won’t. Everyone knows those are ruffles and they’ll help disguise her flabby belly.” Leanna argued back, just as vehemently. “Besides, yours makes her look like a slimy electric eel.”

  “Mine is sophisticated, not slutty with her boobs hanging halfway to town.” Nikki stomped her foot.

  “Pink, pink, pink, pink,” Jolie chanted. “Everything’s prettier in pink, pink and more pink!”

  “Toga, toga!” Marisa marched around. “Let’s have a toga party.”

  The basset hound followed Marisa in lockstep, nipping at the hemline of a creamy pink vodka sauce colored gown with a golden brocade border.

  “Time out! All of you.” Carol rolled to a stop between Nikki and Leanna who were about to come to blows. “These are all the best gowns. It might be better if you all tried them on and modeled them for me. Then, maybe I can figure out which one I like the best.”

  “We sure will,” Marisa whooped. “Vini, vidi, vici! When in Rome …”

  The rest of Carol’s friends made beelines to the dressing room, with Leanna giving Nikki a hefty shove. “Sexy is not slutty.”

  “At least I don’t let everything hang out,” Nikki retorted.

  “Because you have nothing to hang, president of the itty bitty titty committee.” Leanna slammed the door of the changing room.

  “Wow, I’m really sorry about this,” Carol said to Jenna once her friends were safely ensconced in their respective changing rooms.

  “No need. I just want you to find what you like. Not them.” Jenna pulled out a chair and sat next to her. “Is there nothing that catches your imagination?”

  “They’re all great. I can see myself in any one of these,” Carol said. “I’m sorry I’m taking up your time.”

  “Actually, you’re giving me valuable feedback,” Jenna said. “I saw how you were tugging at a few of them. I can see that I’ll have to order a few more of the sitting dress forms. It’s so different from standing where the material drapes down and covers up a multitude of flaws. With sitting, wrinkles show up across the lap, and I’ll also need to put more room in the backside to take account of the seated position.”