Boyfriend for Hire(52)
Ryder snorts, rolling his eyes at me. “I do this drive pretty much every day, and I’ve never once gotten a ticket,” he says bluntly, not easing off the gas for a second. “We’re fine. Chill out.”
When I was a little girl, I was always changing my mind about what I would be when I grew up. I spent countless hours playing princess, teacher, or astronaut. I’d dress up as a ballerina or pretend to be a veterinarian with my stuffed animals, letting my imagination run wild with possibilities of my future career. Mom always told me I could be anything I wanted to be.
Somehow, I don’t think working at a male escort agency is what she had in mind, and I can’t say it’s really at the top of my list, either.
I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. Freshly graduated with a business degree and practically zero ideas as to what I want to do with it, any job is better than no job at all. I’m lucky that my brother was willing to vouch for me and get me this part-time gig at his, um, place of employment. If you can call it that. I’m doubly lucky that he let me move into his spare bedroom. Not that I can’t afford my own place, but it’s nice to have a roommate I can carpool with. No way could I walk into my first day at this kind of job without a little moral support.
Ryder zooms through our morning commute, taking every turn a little too fast and paying more attention to his playlist selection than the road. He’s been working as an escort with this agency for a few years now, and based on his lazy one-handed grip on the wheel, I’d say the drive is second nature to him. As he swings into a particularly sharp turn, I roll up my window to keep the humid summer air from ruining my carefully styled waves.
But Ryder’s right—I do need to chill out. I’ve got that feeling in my stomach like I’m waiting in line to go on a roller coaster. But who could blame me? It’s my first day of work at a job where I’m the only employee who isn’t having sex for a living. Ryder’s line of work never bothered me much, but I was always able to keep the details at arm’s length. Now I’ll be right in the middle of the action, so to speak, and I can’t help but feel a little grimy about the whole thing.
“You seem tense,” Ryder says, turning down the volume on the radio. “Are you thinking about Evan or something?”
Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes. I never should have told Ryder about my breakup with my college boyfriend. Now he brings it up all the time, like he thinks he’s supposed to ask about it or something. I spared him the real details, like the real reason Evan ended things with me. I also left out the part about my personal goal to chase Evan’s memory away with a summer fling.
“No, I’m not thinking about Evan. I’m way over him. That was months ago. I’m just nervous about my first day. This isn’t exactly a typical job, you know.”
“You’ll be great,” Ryder says. “And I promise it’s not nearly as awkward as you think it’s going to be. Case is fuckin’ awesome.”
Okay, then. Apparently, my new boss is fucking awesome. Yay, me.
I pick at a loose thread on my charcoal-gray pencil skirt, hoping Ryder is right. I just have to think of this like any other temporary office job. Just something to buy me time and give me a little experience while I sort out whether to apply for grad school. It’ll look good on a résumé, as long as I leave out the company’s details.
“Just administrative work, right?” I ask, verifying for what has to be at least the hundredth time.
“Of course. Filing some paperwork, helping the boss stay organized. No funny business. You’re just here to work.” Ryder takes his hand off the wheel to lay it on his heart, then puts three fingers up in the air. “Scout’s honor.”
The car veers a bit, and I grip the dashboard for dear life.
“Any way you can put your ‘scout’s honor’ on getting us to the office without crashing the car?”
Ryder returns his grip to the wheel, and my blood pressure returns to normal. “We’re not gonna crash,” he says as he makes one last sharp turn down what looks more like an extra-long residential driveway than an office entrance. “Besides, we’re already here.”
As we cruise down the driveway, an enormous white stucco-and-glass home emerges from behind the sycamore trees. Ryder swings the car into a miniature parking lot off to the side of the house, parking next to a small collection of luxury cars.
“Quite the office,” I say in a hushed voice, taking in the gorgeous landscaping.
“The office is the entire first floor. Otherwise, it’s the boss’s house.” Ryder unbuckles his seat belt and hops out.
“More like the boss’s mansion,” I mutter, following Ryder’s lead out of the car and up the limestone walkway. I’m wobbling a bit in my black heels but keep my chin high, repeating my brother’s promise over and over in my head. No funny business. You’re just here to work.
Ryder punches in a pass code at the door, and with a whir and a click, we’re in. “It’s 1022,” he says over his shoulder. “Case’s mom’s birthday. But I’ll pretty much always be here with you, so you probably don’t have to memorize the code.”
I smile, knowing that I’ll commit it to memory anyway. I’m not one to let the details slide.
My heels clack along the white marble floor as I follow closely behind Ryder, avoiding eye contact as he greets a tall, toned man who walks by, and then another and another.