About Last Night (About Last Night #1)(3)

Harry looked past my shoulder, out into nothingness. After a while, his brow lifted then he muttered, “You ever thought about becoming one of those escorts? I hear it pays a lot.”

My brows narrowed. “How would you know how much it pays?”

Harry looked at me with wide eyes, a picture of innocence, and said in perfect calmness, “I may or may not have been an escort through college.”

I jumped up from my seat. “No way! You dirty, dirty f*cker. You were a hooker, Har? A hooker?”

Harry scowled. “An escort, f*cker. A high-end escort.” He looked over at me as I clutched my stomach from laughing so hard, and stood. “You know what? Forget about it. Looks like you don’t want to earn ten grand.”

Ten grand?

My laughter faltered. Harry’s smile held a secret, and I wanted in. “Ten grand?” I sputtered. “A month?”

Harry turned and made to leave. “A week, loser.”

After I’d tackled Harry and forced him to tell me all he knew, he admitted working for a respectable escort service called DFT. He knew the owner, Steve, and said he’d put in a good word for me.

A week later, I had resigned from construction and was employed by DFT. I soon found out what DFT stood for.

Dolls for Trolls.

I didn’t like it, but as long as it was abbreviated and none of the women knew what it meant, I supposed it was okay.



It didn’t take long to get to Harry’s. I lived on the beachfront in a decent-sized apartment overlooking the ocean. Harry lived in the suburbs, but it still only took a twenty-minute drive.

The moment I arrived, I spotted Harry locking up and talking on his cell. I assumed he’d done this to meet me. But the moment he saw me walking up the drive with my arms extended in a gesture reading, What the f*ck, dude? his face gave him away.

He cussed into his phone. “Fuck!” At the response on the other line, his brows drew together and he uttered, “Not you, Minnie. I forgot about Quinn. He’s here. We sort of do lunch every Saturday.” I couldn’t hear the reply he was given, but figured it out pretty quickly when he scowled and barked into the phone, “No, not like a date, dipshit!”

I chuckled at his irritation then shrugged. “What’s going on?”

Harry held up a hand and quickly griped, “Hold on, Minnie.” Covering his phone, he muttered, “My sister moved back into town two days ago. I thought I’d go by, check out her apartment, and see what she needed. Help her get settled. Do my brotherly duty, you know?”

I nodded. I understood that. Harry had always been fond of his sister. They had a small family, just Mama Jane, Harry, and Minnie. Since I’d only been a friend of Harry’s for five years and the majority of that time Minnie had been away at college, I didn’t know her well. And when I said well, I meant at all.

I’d met her once, at a Christmas party hosted by their family five years earlier, but since I was caught up in my own bullshit, I’d had so much to drink that most of the night was a blur. The few things I knew about Minnie were that she was shy, short, and chubby. I kind of remembered mousy brown hair and doe eyes, but I wasn’t sure if my mind was playing tricks. She seemed nice, and the way she ribbed her brother meant we’d get along just fine.

My brow furrowed. I suddenly found myself protective of this shy little creature. “Why isn’t she living with your mom?”

Harry scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Are you f*cking kidding me?” He shook his head. “Mom would be too damn overprotective of her. What would she do if she wanted to bring home a date or some shit?” He chuckled. “Mom would send him packing.”

My brow continued to furrow. How many men would she be dating? Furthermore, how many would she bring home? That didn’t seem like the behavior of the girl I’d met all those years ago. I hated to butt in, but I felt as the best friend of the brother, I needed to say my piece. If I’d wanted a sister, Minnie would be the closest thing to it. “You’re okay with her bringing men home? How old is she? Are you sure she wouldn’t be better off living with Mama Jane?”

Harry suddenly looked at me like I’d sprouted horns. After a moment, he shook his head and uttered, “Dude, she’s almost twenty-seven. Not much I can do about that. As if I could stop her from dating, she’d chew my ass. And Minnie bites. Hard.”

He lifted the phone to his ear and started talking again. “Hey, can I bring Quinn? If there’s two of us, we can move shit around easier.”

Whatever Harry’s duties were to Minnie, he knew without asking that I’d be there with my metaphorical bells on. After all, Harry was the only family I really had. While he talked to his sister, I checked my cell. The moment I spotted the email icon, anticipation held me to the spot.



To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: Setting a date.



Quinn,



Having you clarify that you’re in fact not a serial killer is a huge relief. For a moment there, I thought about all the other escorts turned serial killers and decided to stay on the safe side.

Death by lube doesn’t sound like a good way to go.

Also not a serial killer,



Maya



Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I could not stop the stupid smile from spreading across my face. She was witty and sarcastic, two of the best qualities in a woman, in my opinion.