She smiles again, brighter this time. “Oh, you’ll be perfect. I have no doubt about that.” Her gaze wanders from mine to my left dimple, and then down to my broad shoulders and the muscular biceps visible below the short sleeves of my T-shirt.
I still have no fucking idea what we’re talking about when she grabs her phone and pulls up a picture of a girl and holds it up for me to see. The girl is fucking stunning with long red hair, a full pouty mouth, and curves for days.
“This is my friend Elle. Well, my soon-to-be sister-in-law, actually.” Christine’s gaze falls to her engagement ring, and her smile brightens. “I love her like a sister, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.”
“I’m sorry, what? Is the date for you or for her?”
“Oh, it’s for her. My wedding is next weekend, and . . .” Christine puts her phone away and her smile falters. “Her dickhead ex recently broke up with her, leaving her without a date. But worse than that, he’s still planning on coming to the wedding, and bringing the new girlfriend he started dating about three seconds after he and Elle broke up.”
“He sounds like a twat.”
Christine giggles. “Oh, he is. But he and my fiancé grew up together, and it’s not like we can uninvite him now without making it a big thing.”
“So, you want me to escort Elle to the wedding?”
She nods. “Yes. Only, I don’t want her to know you’re a . . . that you . . . I told her I have a friend from college I can set her up with.”
“I see.” So she won’t know I’m an escort. A little unusual, but I can work with that.
“And it’s just to accompany her. I’m not paying extra for the . . . you know.” She leans closer and whispers, “Sex.”
I chuckle and place one hand on the table, not bothering to explain to her that I don’t always have sex with clients. It does happen on occasion, but I’m not a prostitute, for fuck’s sake. Plenty of times it’s just a night out. “No worries. I understand. So, the wedding is next Saturday?”
Christine nods. “Yes, but there’s also a cocktail reception for out-of-town guests on Friday that Elle will be expected to attend. I was hoping to have you for Friday and Saturday nights.”
“That will cost extra, but it can be arranged.”
Christine nods. “I’m aware of your fees. That’s not an issue. But you’ll need a suit for Friday and a tux for Saturday . . .”
I hold up one hand, stopping her. “It’s not a problem. I’ll be dressed appropriately.”
“Thank you so much for agreeing to do this.” Christine’s posture relaxes for the first time since I sat down.
“I’m happy to do it. I love weddings.” Cake. Dancing. Everyone in a happy mood. It’ll be the easiest money I’ve ever made.
Christine hands me a sleek white wedding invitation embossed with gold script and rises to her feet. “Oh, and since I told Elle that you’re a friend of mine from college, I went, um, I mean we went to the University of Indiana.”
I lift one eyebrow. I’ve never been to Indiana and I certainly never went to college, something I still regret, but I nod. “Sounds good. Anything else?”
She shakes her head. “I kept it simple. We fell out of touch but recently connected again on social media when we saw we both lived here now.”
I stand and face Christine, glancing briefly at the invitation. “I’ll see you Friday at six.”
She nods. “One last thing. Do you mind if I take a picture of you on my phone to show Elle? You know, to make it seem more normal and get her to agree to the date.”
“Sure.” I smile as Christine poses beside me and snaps a quick selfie of us together.
“Thanks for this, Nic.”
“My pleasure.”
As I stroll out of the coffee shop, I realize that I’m actually looking forward to the wedding next weekend. Sweet young Elle won’t know what hit her.
Chapter Three
Elle
Yoga. I really need to take up yoga. It’s probably the only thing that will keep me from sucker punching my ex in the dick today. This is the thought that pervades my brain as I inspect my lipstick in the gilded bathroom mirror of the country club.
Sighing, I check my reflection one last time and smooth my hair. I know black is supposed to be slimming, so why does it feel like I’ve stuffed myself inside a sausage casing? Why do I feel like a busted can of biscuits in this getup?
Ugh. Breathe, Elle.
“God blessed you with these amazing curves. Don’t hide them.” Christine turns to face me, the corners of her mouth pulled down. It’s like she can read my mind.
I roll my eyes. “I couldn’t hide them even if I wanted to. My Spanx are earning every dime I spent on them.”
She squeezes my hand. “Stop stressing. You’ll like Nic. And he’ll be speechless with you on his arm, I promise.”
I’ve never been set up on a blind date before, and I’m not sure how it’s going to go. I’ve been a nervous wreck all day, and the fact that my asshole ex is going to be at this cocktail reception with his new stick-figure girlfriend isn’t helping calm my nerves.
It’s the day before my friend Christine’s wedding, and she happens to be marrying my brother. So as much as I’d like to lock myself in my room all weekend with a pint of peanut butter ice cream and a bottle of vodka, I know I have to be here for them. Adulting really, really sucks sometimes.
Christine gives my shoulder an encouraging pat.
I keep telling myself that if I can get through this cocktail party tonight and the wedding and reception tomorrow, I can move on and pretend this whole weekend never happened.
After she finishes touching up her lipstick, Christine and I leave the bathroom and wander into the main ballroom. I grab a glass of champagne from one of the servers passing around drinks while she says good-bye and heads over to rejoin my brother. Taking a long sip, I enjoy the sensation of the bubbles on my tongue. I’m a lightweight and never have more than two drinks, but this weekend might be the exception.
I round the corner in search of a familiar friendly face, but instead I spot Jeremy, my ex. I quickly jump back and flatten myself against the wall, but not before I catch a glimpse of his new girlfriend hanging on his arm.
I’ve seen her on social media—and by seen, I mean I’ve stalked her—but I’m not pleased to see she’s even more attractive in person. She’s tall and unbelievably skinny, wearing a formfitting red dress. I’m not overweight, but I am curvy, and I could never pull off a skintight dress like his new girlfriend is wearing, even if I starved myself for a week.
Jeremy and I have known each other for a long time, but I was always the nerdy little sister of his best friend. After college, he finally took notice, and we dated for two years. I’d had a crush on him for so long that I realize now that I overlooked a lot of the flaws in our relationship. I thought he was the one, but then he broke up with me out of the blue. One minute he was telling me he loved me, and the next he was saying he needed time alone to “find himself.” Which couldn’t have been true, because three seconds later he was dating someone else. Dick.