Page 7 of Boss Abroad

“I’m not risking dropping my phone in the water, so talk to the ceiling.” I’m adamant.

“Good call. You’d definitely drop that thing. So prop it on the sink or something. I want to see you. I miss you alreadyyyyy.” It’s those Y’s. They crack my paper-thin resolution.

“Fine,” I grunt without meaning it and do it, taking the opportunity to show her my personal spa. I refuse to call this a bathroom.

I show her the view to my private garden, the massive vanity table filled with Elemis products, the TV that rivals the screen from my favorite neighborhood cinema back home, and the walk-in shower. Oh, and the couch. Why is there a two-seater in the bathroom? In case I get too tired and need a place to rest on my way to the bedroom? Rich people are weird.

I squeak all this as I give her the tour. Rumor has it that I’m the queen of resting bitch face, but there’s no chance I can hide the giddiness I feel at my new home. And it’s Callie, so I don’t have to.

Calista isn’t as impressed because, let’s face it, I’ve seen pictures of the house she grew up in and been to her penthouse in Manhattan countless times. None of this would dazzle her the way it’s awing me.

This is not that far removed from her normal, but she still compliments it so she won’t kill my vibe. “Wow, now that’s a bathroom. Okay, pay attention, because I have a hunk menu for you to choose from.” She talks like she’s presenting the tackiest game show ever and it cracks me up. “I’ve narrowed it down to Liam, the burly, tall one, Caleb, the tattooed one, and Aiden, the pretty one. In a posh way. You’ll know what I mean in time. You’ll find many of those around London.”

“Cal, tomorrow I’m going to the stadium to meet with the board, Max’s agents, and his sponsors to assure them Max will be fine and no one cut their sponsorship to him or the club. I need to be rested.”

She stares unfazed at me. “Says the girl with the tequila in her hand.”

“Well, I need to calm my nerves, too.” I defend myself and take a sip, winking at her. Damn, this is good tequila. “I get anxious just thinking about talking to all those suits. And hey, when have you ever left me drinking alone? Go get a tequila to call your own.”

Cal carries on talking, catching me up with the hospital’s latest gossip, complaining that Preston is in a mood after losing his right hand—meaning me—before continuing to go on and on about my hook up options for tonight.

We keep on laughing and drinking.

Tequila number three thought that Liam was indeed pretty handsome with his golden skin and wavy hair, even though I can’t see much detail from where my phone’s propped on the sink. But I did see abs for days.

Tequila number four agreed to go out on a date with him, while Callie promised me she didn’t type anything too embarrassing on their chat while she hijacked my account. She kept insisting he was too promising to pass on.

Tequila number five made me dress much more revealing than usual—of course, the slutty dress I have on was a gift from Callie—and convinced me that letting loose tonight was actually a great way to start this new chapter of my life.

Damn you, Tequila.

CHAPTER FOUR

liam

“Hello, Mr. Gunn. This is Brooke. How may we help you today?” Her voice stings my ear through the phone. She’s the manager of the escort service I’ve been using for the best part of last year. She’s efficient, so I make an effort to ignore that annoying, childish, overly nasal tone.

That’s me. Ever the gentleman.

“Why, Brooke, hello.” For fuck’s sake. I slide my hand over my face. This pretend friendliness distorts my voice into something I barely recognize. “I realize this is very short notice, but I wonder if you could arrange someone for me tonight.” I’ll play nice even if it hurts. That is, until I get what I want. “I’d appreciate it immensely. Feel free to charge any extra fees necessary.”

I can hear her typing away. “Okey-dokey, sir. Let me have a look on the system. Hmmm, most of the girls available today are girls you’ve booked before.”

Impatience grates my nerves and taints the view granted from my office on the 42nd floor. “That won’t do. You know that.” I’m sick of her voice already and my tone lets it show. Well, that was short-lived.

Brooke turns it around fast. “Hang on, hang on, let me see if I can change any of the current bookings. Some clients don’t mind seeing the same girl twice, you know?” I hear a popping sound and stare incredulous at my phone screen. Is she chewing fucking gum while talking to me? “In fact, most of my customers prefer to repeat and many have a personal favorite they keep coming back for. Ever considered that?”

“I’m not looking for a pet, Brooke. I want a good fuck with a fresh face. Do you have someone that fits my preferences or not? I don’t have time for this.”

I’m not known for my patience and Brooke is well aware of that. Although, maybe she’s forgotten if she thinks she’s safe to test it over the phone.

“Well, Mr Gunn, by that rate, you’re going to go through my entire portfolio of girls real soon and I’d hate to lose you as a client.”

This has been a shitty day, having to manage sponsors threatening to withdraw their funds from my club and I’m fresh out of fucks to give. “You might lose me tonight if you don’t give me a straight answer right about now.”

Her gulp is audible. “Got it. Her name is April, thirty years old, brunette, green eyes, athletic. I can send over a photo. She just started with us but already has rave reviews and?—”

I don’t let her plow on. “No need to send me anything. Your standards have yet to disappoint. Make sure she follows the script and knows how to act tonight.”

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