Fallen Woman(19)

“That’s insane. You know that right?” Nothing he said made any sense.

“It may be, but it is what it is, and he’s not going to take the money back. And you can expect that’s what you’ll be looking at for each night you spend with one of us.”

It dawned on me he included himself in that we. “You know I’ll never take money from you, don’t you?”

“Why not? My money spends just as well as theirs does.” Hurt laced his voice, as well as something similar to disappointment.

“Because you’re my friend.” I would not budge on this point. Ever. “I agreed to the dress because I needed it in order to go with you that night, and I might let you pay Miss Pearl, but that’s where it ends, Jase. I’m not taking money from you.”

He scoffed into the phone. “We’ll see.”

This man could be infuriating. I knew he’d try to find a way to get what he wanted, but I’d fight like crazy to keep it at bay. The moment I took money from him, I became one of them. One of the women he hated. I never wanted him to question whether I cared for him or the lifestyle he could afford me.

“We can cross that bridge when we get there, Gia.”

“Why do you call me Gia?” It was random, but he’d done it practically since the day we’d met.

“Gianna is too formal. Gia is intimate. I haven’t heard anyone else use it with you, so I like being the only one. Does it bother you?”

“No. I just haven’t heard it in a very long time. It has a familiar ring to it.”

“I’m sorry. I can stop using it if you’d like.” The sadness in his voice made my heart hurt.

“I don’t want you to call me Gianna. The way Gia sounds coming out of your mouth makes me warm inside.” I clapped my hand over my mouth.

He snickered and sucked at trying to hide it. “Did you have anything to drink tonight?”

“Hush!” I had, and the fact he could tell by my loose lips meant it was time to get off the phone. No matter how much I wanted to listen to his velvety smooth voice roll words into my ear, I’d had too much, and there was no telling what I might accidentally say.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

I swear I could’ve just sat here and listened to him breathe. I would’ve loved nothing more than to be lulled to sleep by that sound on a nightly basis instead of kids talking in their sleep and feet in my back. I dreamed of a night wrapped in his arms.

“Goodnight, Gia.”

“Night, Jase.”





Chapter Five





When I heard from Holland, his approach was much different than Drake’s. Drake hadn’t wanted to connect on a personal level prior to our night out, but Holland was the opposite. He asked me to go to lunch with him and Jase so we could get to know each other better. The three of us met at the same deli Jase and I ate at frequently, the one where we’d had our first lunch.

Holland was definitely the quiet one in the group. He seemed much more reserved and almost painfully shy. I found myself begging him for information and wondering how I’d ever get through a night alone with him. Lunch would have been brutal had it been the two of us, but somehow, when he met me at the same store I’d brought my previous outfits, there was something subtly confident about him. The awkwardness seemed to be gone, and I wondered if he was intimidated by Jase.

The same lady waited on me again when we got to the boutique. I didn’t want to imagine what she must’ve thought of me. On our third meeting, she finally introduced herself as Jenae. I liked her—she was amazing at her job. Holland told her we were going to a company party to celebrate them going public, and she knew just what to pull for me to try on. Unlike with Jase, I had no problem showing Holland what I’d be wearing. Everything with his friends was different—I saw them as jobs, whereas Jase didn’t come close to falling into that category. If I had the money, I’d pay him to hang out with me.

The green dress she gave me to try on first was beautiful, but I knew it wasn’t what Holland had in mind. He came up behind me and whispered in my ear that I was stunning, but the dress was too much. “You don’t need that much emphasis in fabric. Your beauty stands on its own. I don’t want it hidden by a loud dress.” I stared at myself in the mirror as he talked and wondered what he saw that I didn’t.

My hair was thick and long, but it wasn’t anything to write home about—it was just a deep brown, with a random highlight from the sun here and there. I had an olive complexion thanks to my Italian roots and maintained a faded tan year-round, but my green eyes were just plain old green. There was nothing spectacular in any of it. My nose was just a nose. I’d put on a few pounds since starting at Faston, but nothing that did anything other than give me a little flow instead of harsh edges. My best assets were my killer boobs. They’d been perfect since age fifteen—even after three kids—and my pouty lips could be found attractive.

He settled on a blue dress he found on a rack. It was understated but elegant, flowing and simple. He chose a scarf large enough to be a shawl to go with it, pearl earrings, and a matching necklace. With silver strappy sandals, he was satisfied with the ensemble and kissed my cheek as we left the store. I had planned to take the bus back home, but he thought it would be rude not to drop me off. Before I agreed, I confirmed he was not, and would not be showing up in a limo.