Boyfriend for Hire

Eighteen

NicThe knot that’s been forming in my stomach all day tightens even more as I walk through

the door to Case’s house. Pausing in the foyer, I take a good look around, appreciating the little details I’ve taken for granted all these years. The pritine marble, the framed artwork, the sleek and sturdy furniture set over long, patterned rugs.

Case runs a tight ship, both in his business and in his home. The two have become one and the same, really. He’s always treated each of us escorts like family. Which makes what I’m about to do ten thousand times harder.

I walk through the living room, nodding to a couple of the guys lounging and watching TV on the couch.

“Hey, Nic, long time no see. How’s it going?” Ryder smiles and leans forward, resting his fore- arms on his knees.

I notice the half-finished beer on the side table next to him but don’t say anything. I’m in no posi- tion to judge. “Doing well. It’s good to see you. Is Case in his office?”

Ryder leans back, a smirk on his lips. “Yeah, he’s around. Heard you’ve had a lot going on late- ly.”

I clench my teeth, annoyed that the guys have been talking about me. Not that I should be sur- prised. They’re not judging or anything. Just con- cerned.

“That’s what I’m hoping to talk to him about, actually.”

Ryder nods, turning his attention back to the TV. “Well, I’ll let you get to it. See you around.”

I nod and turn to make my way down the hall to Case’s office. When I reach the open door, I knock and poke my head in. “This a bad time?”

Case looks up and shakes his head. He’s dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, and by the looks of it, he hasn’t shaved in a few days. Normally, he’s

so well put together, it makes me wonder what’s going on. “Wasn’t expecting to see you so soon. Come on in.”

I take a seat at the leather chair in front of his desk, crossing my ankle over my knee. The knot in my stomach has somehow grown larger.

Fuck. Why is this so hard?

“So, what’s up?” Case asks after finishing typ- ing whatever he was working on.

“You know I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. That I’ve enjoyed this job, and value you as a friend, right?”

Case’s eyebrows draw together and he nods slowly. “What’s going on? Just spit it out, Nic.”

“I wanted to let you know that I’m officially resigning. I’m in love with Elle, and leaving this job is the best chance I have to be with her.”

He stares at me for a few moments before re- sponding. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. Always knew you’d settle down and get out of this business one day. Have you told her yet?”

I shake my head, rubbing the back of my neck.

“I wanted to make this official first.”

Case leans back in his chair, weighing my words. “How do you think she’ll take it?”

“No idea. But being with her is the most alive I’ve felt in years. I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t do everything in my power to try.”

At this, he smiles and folds his hands, resting them behind his head. “Well, what are you still do- ing here? Go get your girl.”

“You sure you’re not pissed?” The last thing I want to do is burn a bridge. Yeah, he was my boss, but I also consider him a friend.

“I’m not pissed. Does it suck to lose you? Fuck yes.” His lips curl up into a smirk. “You made me a lot of money.”

I chuckle and shake my head. How I’m going to make money going forward isn’t something I want to think about right now. One thing at a time. The first thing on my list of priorities is talking to Elle so I can finally tell her the truth.

I leave Case’s house feeling ten feet tall. He took my news way better than I thought, and hav- ing his support concerning Elle means more than I thought it would.

I drive straight to a flower shop, pick out the

most beautiful bouquet I can find, and head to Elle’s place. We haven’t talked since that incredi- ble night a few days ago, so I’m not sure what she’s up to, but I feel too amazing to go another minute without seeing her.

When I get to Elle’s door, I knock and take a step back as nervous energy buzzes through my veins. It’s crazy all the things she makes me feel. The old Nic never got nervous or excited to see a woman.

I stand there for a few minutes, flowers in hand, but she doesn’t answer. I pull out my phone and try calling. No answer.

I shoot her a text asking where she is, but when she doesn’t respond after several minutes, I decide to get back in my car and head home. If she was home, she’d answer. She’s probably just out run- ning errands or something. I’ll wait until she re- sponds, and then I’ll go to wherever she is.

At home, I try to distract myself. I flip through some TV channels, but nothing holds my attention. I try making some food, but by the time it’s done, I’m not hungry and don’t want to eat it. No matter what I try, I keep obsessively checking my phone. That knot in my stomach from earlier? Yeah, it’s back with a fucking vengeance.

Something doesn’t feel right.

I don’t understand why she’s ignoring me. We’ve had our issues in the past—mainly me act- ing like an asshole—but I thought we’d made up and had an amazing night.

I spend the rest of the day racking my brain for what might be bothering her. Did I say something that upset her? Was the sex not as good for her as I thought? Is she mad I didn’t text her sooner?

But none of that sounds like the Elle I know. If she had a problem with me, she would say some- thing. I think the fact that she showed up on my doorstep when I wouldn’t text her back proves that.

Unless something happened that would keep her from doing that.

As I mechanically prepare another meal I don’t have the appetite to eat, I can’t keep my worries about Elle under control. It’s not like her to ignore me at all, especially not for this long. I can’t even entertain the idea that something horrible might have happened to her without feeling like I’m go- ing to fucking lose it.

Just as I’m starting to panic, I remember I still have Christine’s number. I frantically compose a text to her.

Hey, Christine. Have you heard from Elle? Having a hard time getting a hold of her.

Pacing around my kitchen, I wait impatiently for her to reply. But when my phone chimes and I unlock the screen, the words I read make me feel like someone punched me in the stomach.

Yes, I have. I told her the truth

about you.

I drop my phone on the counter. It feels like all the air has been sucked out of my lungs. I can’t be- lieve Christine did that. I should have let her know that I was planning to tell Elle myself. Maybe then she would have understood, would have given me the chance to explain.

My phone chimes again and I scramble to check it, a small part of me still hopeful that Elle will reply.

But it’s just Christine. Rubbing salt into my wounds.

It’s over, Nic. She doesn’t want anything to do with you. With ei-

ther of us.

I throw my phone across the room. I can’t take this anymore. Sinking into a chair, I bury my face in my hands, crushed under the weight of what all this means.

It should have been me who told her. I was ready to explain why I went into escort work, prove to her it was all in the past. I quit for her, left behind the most successful opportunity I’ve ever had in exchange for the chance to start a life with her. A new one. The kind of life I’ve always wanted but was never sure I could have or even deserved. With her by my side, I thought anything was possible.

Now, it’s hopeless. The dream I thought I was about to be living is gone. Over. Dead. I was stupid to think she’d ever want someone like me.

I grab a bottle of whiskey from my liquor cabi- net and take a few swigs. Just as I settle into my seat on the couch, my phone rings from across the room. I sigh and go to answer it, a small part of me still hoping I’ll hear Elle’s voice on the other end.

But instead, it’s Case’s voice, which only makes me feel worse.

“Hey, I’m surprised you even answered. I was hoping you’d be too busy making sweet love to your lady right about now.”

When I don’t answer, Case clears his throat. “You all right, Nic? How’d it go?”

I sigh, then chug more whiskey. “It didn’t.”

“You’re going to have to give me more than that.”

“Christine told her before I could. Now she won’t talk to me.”

“Fuck, man, I’m sorry. What are you going to do?”

“Looks like I’m halfway through this bottle of whiskey. After that, no clue.”

Case pauses, the silence on the phone making me feel even more like shit. “Well, you can always come back to work if you want to.”

I snort, shaking my head and running my hand over my face. “I can’t go back to that life, Case. What’s done is done. Even if I can’t be with Elle, the time I had with her showed me that there’s more to life than this.”

“Whatever makes you happy, dude. Hey, you still have your old-lady client tomorrow. Want me to call her and cancel?”

Rubbing my temple with one hand, I close my

eyes to think about it. Of all my clients, Esther was always the sweetest. And the thought of canceling on her at the last minute makes me feel like an ab- solutely worthless piece of shit. I couldn’t do it be- fore, and I can’t do it now.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll go. Just one last time so I can

tell her good-bye.”

I arrive at the country club the next day feeling like shit. I make a quick stop in the restroom to splash some water on my face before meeting Esther in the dining room.

When I look in the mirror, I hardly recognize the asshole staring back at me. Bloodshot eyes, gray bags hanging underneath them, messy hair. The only plus side is that it’s an accurate depiction of what’s happening on the inside.

I find Esther at our usual table, and she rises to greet me. We hug, and I kiss her on the cheek like always, choosing to ignore the worried look on her face.

“You look terrible,” she says, leaning toward me after we sit down.

“I feel terrible.” I prop my elbows on the table and run my hands through my hair.

“What is it? Did something happen with your girl?”

I grit my teeth, the corners of my eyes stinging. After clearing my throat, I take a sip of ice water. “Turns out she’s not my girl after all.”

Esther makes a small, sympathetic sound, reaching out to take my hand across the table.

I’m so tired from staying up drinking all night, I’ve pretty much lost every ounce of pride and self- control I had left. I’ve never felt more helpless in my life, and I know that Esther is the kind of wom- an who will truly listen.

“I quit my job yesterday. You’ll be the last cli- ent I’ll ever see. This job is the only thing I’ve ever been good at, and I quit so I could be with her. Stu- pid, right? Like quitting would make up for all the things that I’ve done.”

Esther squeezes my fingers. “What did she say

when you told her?”

“I didn’t get the chance. Her friend told her about me before I could. She never knew what I did for a living—until her friend told her. Now she

won’t talk to me. And I get that. I was a complete idiot to think that someone like her would want to be with someone like me. And the worst part is that I was so ready to change. Spending time with Elle showed me the kind of person I want to be, the kind of life I want to have. But it turns out that none of that was real. At the end of the day, I’m just a male whore who fell for one of his clients.”

“Oh, Nic, don’t say those things about yourself. You have so much to offer. Any woman who can’t see past your job is a fool.”

“I just wish I could talk to her. I know it’s stu- pid, but I think if I could have just been the one to tell her, she would understand. And I wouldn’t feel so goddamn hopeless right now.”

“If that’s true, then you should go.”

I snap my gaze up to Esther, who’s looking at me with a mix of kindness and sadness. “What do you mean?”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned in this life, it’s that the people we love matter more than anything else in the world. Put your pride aside. Make her understand how you feel.”

I slowly shake my head, pulling my hand from hers. “Esther, I don’t know—”

But she simply raises her hand to silence me, the next words out of her mouth lighting a fire in me I didn’t even realize had gone out.

“Go fight for your girl. Fight for the future you want. No one’s going to hand it to you, honey. Go get it.”

A lump of emotion lodges itself in my throat. “What about dinner?”

She waves a hand at the menus resting between us. “Truth be told, I’m sick of this place. I just liked the company.”

I chuckle and rise to my feet. “I’ll miss you, Esther.”

“Same here. Now go make me proud.”

The smile she gives me is so warm and famil- iar and comforting, I feel like maybe, just maybe, there’s still a chance.