Page 16 of Personal Escort

I’ve learned a lot about gut calls in the last fifteen years. Learned how to lean into the bruise that fear leaves, figure out when pain is productive and when it’s destructive, and walk that line carefully.

Everything about kissing Cara screamed danger, and I did it anyway. Everything about backing off feels right—except for this one sharp spot in my chest. It feels very wrong there.

I scowl and tip back my drink as soon as it arrives. “Another,” I demand roughly. I can practically feel Cara’s eyebrows raise beside me, so I add a touch of nicety to the request. “Please.”

Cara leans past me and smiles at the stewardess. “I’d love a glass of cranberry juice, if you have it.”

Juice.

I’m guzzling whiskey and she’s asking for juice.

My best friend’s kid sister.

Yes, backing off is the right thing to do, that spot in my chest be damned.

And the fact that her fingers brushing against my forearm makes me halfway hard? Proof I need to get my head on straight and help Cara out, not stand in her way like some jealous wannabe boyfriend.

If there’s a selfish element there, because maybe I don’t mind her not dating anyone… I’m not going to examine that too closely. “Tell me the plan again,” I mutter, closing my eyes.

She sighs and leans in closer. “You’re the best, you know that? Okay, so I was thinking, maybe I could find a guy to play my fiancé, then my husband, just a couple of times. He’d be Canadian, of course, so when I leave Toronto, we’d regretfully decide to part ways. But it would buy me until the end of my program without Nana threatening to meddle with my grant funding.”

“You know she can’t really do that.”

“I know, but she’s a major benefactor at several Ivy League schools. What’s to stop her from making a million-dollar donation to U of T and causing problems for me?”

I frown. “I could match that.”

She laughs. “Okay, no.No. And also, the last thing we need is some crazy big-league donation battle. That would be weird.”

“This whole thing is weird.”

“I just want to be left alone. Is that so wrong?”

No. My chest squeezes tight. “Okay. You figure out what you need, then let me know.”

I give Ben a call that night.

“Did you get my sister safely back to her dorm?”

“She lives off-campus in a condo.”

“Unchaperoned?”

I laugh. “Very.”

“I don’t approve.” He huffs a sigh. “When did she grow up?”

“Somewhere around the same time you started to feel old.”

“I’ve been thinking about what you said, you know. About making some changes.”

“Good.”

“I’m officially in the market for a wife now.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him his entire family is crazy, but I can’t break Cara’s confidence. “I saw that coming a mile away. Are you going to do some sort of reality TV show to find one? Russian mail-order bride?”

“Tempting, but no. I’m going to try it the old-fashioned way, first.”

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