by Lisa Aldin
I speak slowly. “Think of my service like Fight Club, Hamilton. First rule: don’t talk about it. Especially on school grounds.”
“What’s Fight Club?” she scoffs. Her teeth, I notice, are slightly yellowed.
“Well, I could show you.” I roll up the sleeves of my navy sweater, but Emma throws me a warning look. So I compose myself.
“This is an emergency,” Shauna says, her voice rising. “I don’t have time to play your games.”
“Why should I make an exception for you?” I ask, beyond annoyed.
Shauna tightens her jaw and scratches her elbow. Her words come out flaked, uncertain. “Do you know who my father is? He’s the top attorney in the state. If I tell him that you, Toni Valentine, are running an escort service for Winston girls, he’ll have you thrown in jail for a super-long time. Don’t mess with me.”
Wow. The nerve of this girl. Emma gasps and watches me, waiting for my reaction. Here we are. Our fears manifested under the blossoming lights of a pristine lemon-scented bathroom.
“I don’t respond well to threats.” I fake-smile. My face is starting to hurt.
Shauna tosses her red curls. “I’ll pay extra. I can’t make it through the rest of the day without this settled. I need to know that I’ve booked my rental for next weekend.”
I look to Emma, who shrugs and rubs her fingers together to indicate money, money, money. I would very much like to turn Shauna Hamilton away, but I’ll hear her out. I’m reasonable.
“Keep your voice low. And speak of this to no one, understand? I don’t need everyone thinking I’m prone to exceptions.”
Shauna sighs with relief and lowers her voice to a whisper. “Ryan, my boyfriend, promised that he would come to my family’s annual skiing trip, but now he can’t. He bailed. Something about his dad having surgery or something. I need a boy there. Desperately.”
I’m almost rendered speechless. “Is his dad okay?”
Shauna gives me a strange look. “Oh, he’s fine. It’s a routine procedure or whatever. No big deal. Can you provide the Purdue guy for the weekend or not?”
“The service only provides platonic dates,” I say.
Footsteps outside. We all shut up. When the footsteps fade, Emma opens the door and peers outside. After a moment, she closes the door and gives a thumbs-up. All clear. Still, we better hurry this up.
“Like I need to pay for real romance,” Shauna whispers, rolling her eyes. “We go skiing every year with the Mayhews, a vile family I’ve been forced to interact with all my life because my mom happened to be in the same sorority as Mrs. Mayhew. Ben, the Mayhew son, is completely obsessed with me. If I don’t have a guy there, even a guy just pretending to be my boyfriend, he will not leave me alone for more than two seconds. He’s relentless and pathetic and annoying. It will be hell without someone there to discourage his advances. I need a shield.”
I ask, “For the entire weekend?”
“Saturday through Sunday. One night. Name your price,” she adds. Her voice is panicky.
“We’ve never booked an overnight engagement before.” Emma types on her phone, taking notes.
“Skiing.” I rub my chin with my index finger. “You’ll want Yale. Our Yale guy is an impressive snowboarder.”
Shauna roughly points at the Purdue envelope. “No, I want this guy. He’s the cutest.”
I pick at my thumb. “I just don’t know if he’s the best choice here…”
“I’ll pay anything.” Shauna’s voice grows louder. “I need the cutest guy possible.”
Anything? She’ll pay anything? The first year’s tuition at UVM for Loch perhaps? But Ollie’s clearly the better choice for this date. How can I convince Shauna? She wants what she wants. I need to discuss this with Emma. Alone.
“Leave your number with Emma,” I say. “We’ll be in touch. In the meantime, it’s best not to talk to me. We don’t want the faculty growing suspicious.”
Plus, I don’t enjoy conversing with you. At all.
Shauna blurts out, “I’ll give you two thousand dollars.”
Now I am rendered speechless. Did she say thousand? Emma’s blue eyes widen with joy. Discussion over. I clap my hands and rub them together and say, “Consider it done then.”
I realize my mistake as I’m driving home. Before agreeing to the weekend date, I should’ve checked with Loch. He’s scheduled to work next Saturday. Crap.
Ten minutes from home, I give Loch a call and decide to butter him up before presenting the job. He hates calling in sick, but maybe two thousand bucks could persuade him.
He answers on the second ring with a muffled hello.
“Hey,” I say. My mood immediately lifts knowing he’s on the other end of the line. “You. Me. Monster movie tonight?”
“Sounds like you’ve had the kind of day I’ve had,” he replies, sighing so deeply into the phone I can practically smell the cinnamon gum on his breath. “My turn to pick the movie.”
“Like you’d ever let me forget.”
I smile all the way home.
First I stop by my house to grab a Mountain Dew from the fridge and sputter a quick hello to Brian (hey, I’m trying here). Outside, a light snow cakes the tips of dead grass with white. When I slip through the Garrys’ basement window, Loch is already waiting for me on the couch, dressed in a hoodie and oversized sweatpants. He grins. Just looking at him makes me all comfy.
About halfway through King Kong, I present Shauna’s request, minus her threat to send me to jail (minor detail). I lead in with the money. At first, Loch looks excited, but when I finally take a breath and let him respond, he says, “Hell, no.”
“Perhaps you didn’t hear me,” I say, moving my feet underneath me. “Two. Thousand. Bucks.”
Loch scratches his stubble. If it’s always itching him, I wonder why he doesn’t just shave. Probably for the same reason I would sometimes go a week or two without shaving my legs. Before I had to wear a skirt everyday, that is. Laziness.
“There’s clearly something wrong with someone who can spare that kind of money for a fake boyfriend,” he says. “What’s wrong with her? Is she a serial killer or something?”
I think a moment. It’s a reasonable question. I shake my head. “You should see her nails. One can’t be a serial killer with a perfect manicure all the time.”
Loch stretches and yawns, the couch cushion lowering under his weight, pushing him closer to me. A creamy darkness sifts through the basement window. The lights are off, and the flickering images of the television fall over us. We watch the movie for a bit.
“I hate this part,” I say, fidgeting with my socks. The characters onscreen chain up King Kong. It’s so sad, the way they take him away from everything’s he ever known. I bury my face in the warmth of Loch’s shoulder, breathing in the cotton-y scent of his sweatshirt. “You know this movie makes me cry, Loch.”
“You look extra-nice today,” Loch whispers. The TV goes silent. “I like your hair. It smells like citrus.”
For a moment, I close my eyes and allow those words to warm me. You smell like vanilla and it’s the most delicious, wonderful smell ever. Then I remember myself and squirm and move away from the comfort of his shoulder. As I sit up, my cheek brushes against his stubble. I swear my body temperature rises another degree or two. I scoot to the other end of the couch and clear my throat, unsure what the heck just happened there.
“No changing the subject,” I say with a forced chuckle.
Loch shifts like a cat trying to find the perfect resting spot. “I will do this job on one condition,” he says.
Politely, I cross my legs, hoping this makes me feel more business-y. Because this is business. “Name it.”
He responds with a symmetrical smile. Suddenly it feels like I’m about to be pulled into something I won’t be able to climb out of.
nineteen
LOCH’S ONE CONDITION IS THE reason why I’m lugging Shauna Hamilton’s suitcase from her parents’ giant SUV among snow-crust
ed woods and towering mountains. My modest duffel bag rests somewhere beneath Shauna’s designer luggage, which is probably worth more than all of my possessions combined. I almost drop it, but a pair of hands reach from behind to grab the handle.
Loch whispers, “What does she have in here? A dead body?” His breath tickles my skin. I hide my smile.
“Darn,” Shauna shouts as she hops out of the car. Her furry snow boots land on the gravel driveway. “The Mayhews aren’t here yet. Shucks.”
“Drop the sarcasm,” Mrs. Hamilton singsongs, throwing her arm around Shauna’s shoulder. “Sarcasm is not for ladies.”
On the outside, Mrs. Hamilton resembles an older replica of Shauna. Red hair. Light freckles. The jagged gestures of a dictator. However, there’s a softness in her that’s lacking in her daughter. I wonder if it’s true what they say about girls eventually becoming their mothers. Perhaps that softness will emerge from Shauna after graduation.
“OH! MY! GOD! I think I just stepped in rabbit shit!” Shauna hops around as she tries to get a look at the bottom of her shoe. Birds scatter from a nearby tree, the peaceful quiet broken by her shrill screams.
Then again, maybe not. Maybe Shauna will always be Shauna.
Mr. Hamilton, a jolly man with slicked-back hair and long sideburns, moves in next to Loch. “Atta boy,” Mr. Hamilton says, gesturing to the bags in Loch’s arms. “Never let a lady carry her own bag.”
Mr. Hamilton walks ahead to the cabin, snow crunching beneath his boots. He deliberately leaves the bags for his daughter’s new “boyfriend” to drag inside. Loch gives me a You-Owe-Me-Forever-Look, marking the tenth one since we left Shelburne two hours ago.
It’s true. I owe him, but I’m working off my debt. I’m renting myself out this weekend, too. Believe me, I’d much rather be at home watching Family Guy reruns.
To pull off the illusion, Shauna’s parents need to believe that Loch and Shauna are really an item. The last-minute boyfriend swap must occur often in Shauna’s world because her parents accepted it without question. They treat Loch like he’s just another one of Shauna’s boyfriends to deal with for a weekend, soon to be out of their privileged lives for good.
I, on the other hand, am welcomed with stifling enthusiasm that reeks of familiarity.
“I am so thrilled that Shauna made a female friend this year,” Mrs. Hamilton whispers as she leads me up the walkway to the cabin. She hooks her arm in mine, as if we are dear friends in a Jane Austen novel. “You may not have noticed, but Shauna can be rather intimidating to other girls. It’s a jealousy thing, unfortunately. It’s nice to see a secure young lady like yourself handle her.”
I look up at the cabin and my breath catches. Camping for the Hamilton family translates to a state-of-the-art cabin complete with cable, Internet, and a hot tub on the balcony. Inside, dead animals hang on the walls above a glistening wooden floor. The scent of pine drifts everywhere.
I stare at the giant deer head above the stone fireplace until Shauna rips me from my reverie. She taps my shoulder and whispers, “I’m not paying you to just stand there.”
Right. I’m on the job.
Shauna isn’t thrilled about my attendance this weekend. I think she wanted Loch all to herself, like most girls would, but Loch wouldn’t come without me. His sick way of torturing me, I guess. Because I have to be here, Shauna puts me to good use though. She insists I make her look good, popular, and lovely. That I tell stories to her parents about her glory at Winston. This required homework, of course, since making up such massive lies on the spot would be challenging. On the drive up, I told stories of Shauna’s imaginary kindness and admiration throughout the halls of Winston, laying it on pretty thick.
While Shauna blabs on about her imaginary relationship to her parents in the kitchen, I check out the various rooms in the cabin. There’s a freaking movie theater in the basement! I run my fingers over the leather seats, excited to curl up with a cup of warm cider and watch a flick later. There are some perks to this job.
A few minutes later, I find Shauna and Loch organizing the luggage in a Western-themed bedroom upstairs. I notice that my bag is resting next to Shauna’s luggage. I stare at my duffel. I stare at the mound of pink suitcases. Horror settles into my chest.
“There’s my roommate,” Shauna crows, smiling.
I look at Loch, who appears rather amused by the situation. “And where are you sleeping?” I ask.
“Had to insist on my own room,” he says, tucking his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “I’m a terrible snorer.”
“Such a liar.” I’m the snorer. Loch sleeps like the dead.
“Isn’t that my job though?” Loch asks. “To lie?”
“It’s just one night,” Shauna says in a low voice. She glances at the open doorway, nervous. “I’m not thrilled either, Toni. If I sleep alone, Ben could sneak into my room.”
“Have you considered pressing charges against this guy?” I ask. “This sounds like more than an annoying crush.”
Shauna sighs and slips out of her sophisticated yellow jacket. “Okay. Maybe he doesn’t sneak into my room, but he probably thinks about it. My parents won’t let me sleep in the same room as my boyfriend anyway, real or fake. We have to make them believe you and I are, like, close. The best of girlfriends. Remember?”
She’s right. It’s all part of the act. Two. Thousand. Dollars. I repeat the number in my head to hold onto my slipping sanity. This will all be over soon, and Loch will be one step closer to attending UVM next year.
As Loch exits the room, he squeezes my shoulder. “Remember,” he whispers. “Serial killers can’t have perfect nails.”
“Bra. Bra. Bra. Pianist,” I whisper back.
He tenses, reddens, and goes down the hall to his bedroom. Shauna rolls up the sleeves of her black sweater and begins to unpack. She checks her phone every two seconds. “Ryan said he would keep in touch,” she says, tossing her phone on the bed in frustration. “Nothing for the last hour. Not one word. Not even an emoji. Sometimes I don’t understand him at all.”
I mumble something in reply and slink into the hallway. I find Loch in his room, staring out the window at the beautiful cluster of snow-covered trees surrounding the cabin. I keep my voice low just in case Shauna’s parents venture upstairs.
“What did you tell the boss to get off work for the weekend?” I sit down on the bed next to his unpacked bag. “Chicken pox? The flu? A broken heart?” Loch looks at me, frowning. I continue, “Ebola? Malaria? The plague? Vampirism?”
“I quit.”
“You what?” I accidentally shout it. I press my hand over my mouth, as if that will somehow reverse the noise.
“The boss wouldn’t let me take any more time off.” Loch wipes his hand over his buzzed hair. “I made a choice. The hours sucked anyway.”
A sick feeling settles into my gut. “Well,” I say softly. “Good.”
He tugs at the bottom of his sweatshirt. “Think I made the right decision?”
I brighten. Of course he made the right decision. I hope. “You’re the most popular product we’ve got, Loch. There’s a waiting list a mile long for you,” I say with confidence. “Now you’ll have time to go on more dates and bring in more money. No more teddy bears.”
“Wait—there’s a waiting list?” He turns away from the window.
I shrug and fidget with the zipper on his duffel bag. “Winston girls think you’re adorable.”
“You’re a Winston girl.” He sits beside me on the bed. The springs squeak. “You think I’m adorable?”
I blush and shove my hands into the pocket of my hoodie. I glance at his wide, scruffy chin. “Duh.”
Loch scratches that stubble and turns to me, accidentally bumping my knee with his. I squirm a little. Is it warm in here?
“Toni, I…” He doesn’t finish. He jumps up because Shauna appears in the doorway, her chest heaving. She gasps for air, leaning against the frame.
“You two can’t be sneaking a
round together like this,” she shout-whispers. “If Micah is going to be alone with anyone in a bedroom, it should be me.”
“Relax,” I tell her. “Nothing’s going on.”
I look to Loch to back me up on that, but he gazes out the window again, clasping his hands behind his back. Silent.
“I don’t give a rat’s ass about your love life, Toni Valentine,” Shauna hisses. “But I do want what my deposit promises me. Your business would never survive another incident like Carrie Sanders. Understand?”
“We’re doing what you asked.” I stand, fidgeting with the string on my sweatpants. “I told your parents that you pulled me out of my darkest depression and inspired me to apply to Ivy League schools. That lie alone was worth your deposit.”
“Look, in about five seconds, the job is about to get a whole lot worse,” Shauna says.
Downstairs, a door slams and there’s a huge roar of laughter. Someone snorts. There’s some type of singing. Loch and I exchange a glance. Shauna cringes. The Mayhews have arrived. It’s showtime.
twenty
THE FIRST THING I NOTICE about Ben Mayhew is his blatant dwisrespect for personal space. When Shauna introduces me as her dear friend from school, Ben wraps his wire-like arms around my shoulders until my face is stuffed into his puffed-out coat. The second thing I notice about Ben Mayhew is that he smells like cigarettes. I gag at the strong scent. When he releases me from his grasp, I hide behind Loch. I don’t like smelling or touching strangers.
Shauna wraps her arm around Loch’s waist and yanks away my security blanket. “Ben, darling, this is my boyfriend Micah Garry,” she says. Is she really speaking in a faux-British accent? I think she is a little bit. Wow. “I’m in love with him. He’s totally in love with me. We’ll probably get married someday.”
My jaw drops. There are no words. Loch keeps a straight face. I’m impressed.
Ben scans Loch as if assessing a new car and says, “‘Sup?”
Loch outstretches his arms. “Oh, come on. Let’s hug, man.”
As a horrified look forms on Ben’s face, Loch envelops him into an enormous bear hug. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. Ben’s narrow face gets lost in Loch’s massive arms. The hug holds a beat too long before Ben manages to squeeze away. He straightens his coat, tries to keep his cool.