Page 8 of Mr. Bossy

“As I’ve said, I don’t screw customers,” I finally responded, “and I don’t date them.”

“I’m not asking for either.”

“So clarify it for me.What are you asking for?”

“I’m asking to buy your beauty and time for an evening.Well, two evenings.”

“Why?Don’t lie and tell me you have a hard time finding dates.”

“I don’t want a date.I want a no-strings-attached woman on my arm who’s beautiful enough to make my ex-girlfriend so jealous that it’ll ruin her day as she walks down the aisle to marry the guy she cheated on me with.”

I was intrigued.More that someone had cheated on him, and that he was still so hung up on it than anything else.

“She must be a complete fool,” slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it.

That got a small but genuine smile out of him.“I’ll take that as a compliment.Will you do it?”

“When and for how long?”

“Next weekend.It’s out of town, so it would be a three day commitment.”

I studied him dubiously.“Where out of town?”

“California.A small town near San Diego that you’ve probably never heard of, but it’s a five hour drive from here.We’d stay at a very nice resort and attend two day’s worth of events.

“Sorry, Mister.That sounds like a whole lot of trouble.”

“I’ll pay you fifteen thousand dollars.Up front.Fifteen after.I’ll also clothe you for the occasion, very expensive clothes that you can keep after.”

Thirty fucking thousand dollars?All to pretend to date a guy that made me wet every time I glanced at him?

30K for two days of work.

Who could resist an offer like that?

Not me, I realized.Even if there was a catch.Even if he was lying about the fifteen after, I’d still get that fifteen up front, and that wouldbe more than worth it.

“I won’t share a hotel room with you,” I told him, voice firm, principles shaky as hell.

“I’ll have a suite with multiple bedrooms.We’ll share the suite but not a bed.I won’t compromise on it.If we had separate rooms, Sheila would find out about it, and that would defeat the whole purpose of me bringing you.She has to believe we’re sleeping together.”

I studied him, still hung up on the fact that there was a woman out there that didn’t want him.Even if he wasn’t rich (though he clearly was, strippers know these things), he could get by on his looks and his charisma alone.The money was just icing on his appeal.

“This all sounds too good to be true,” I told him slowly, still taking it all in.“How do I know you’re not some psycho who’s going to chop me up into little pieces and bury me in the desert?”

He laughed out loud.“My name is Kashnikov, and I have a very public profile.If I was chopping women up, someone would have noticed by now.I’ll give you a day to do your research on me and decide.”

“Just Kashnikov?You only go by the one name?”

“That’s correct.”

“Like Beyoncé, and Madonna,” I teased him, “Or Cher.”

He laughed.“Yeah, like them.Some people call me Kash for short.”

“You’re honestly offering to pay me thirty thousand dollars to spend a weekend pretending to be your lover?No strings attached?”

“I honestly am.Here’s my number.I’ll need a decision sometime in the next twenty-four hours.”

I glanced down at the card he’d handed me.There was nothing on it but a number.

Well, hell.I watched him leave already knowing my answer.It wasn’t like I could afford to turn him down.Raising four kids was expensive.

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