Page 10 of Escorting the Mogul

Elena straightened herself and stared at me. Her hair was spiky with mousse, and her maroon lipstick was applied flawlessly, as usual. She was six feet tall but always wore heels, which made her even more imposing. Elena was attractive but not pretty if that made sense. As for what had gotten her into the escort business in the first place, no one knew.

“First of all, hi Jenny. Second of all, no, these looks are not for Mr. Bryson’s grandmother. They’re for you.”

I pointed at the offensive pastel dresses. “I am not wearing that crap. He wants an escort, not a Sunday school teacher!”

“Jenny…” She put her hand on her hip, gearing up for a fight.

I whipped out my phone. “What’s his name?”

“Cole Bryson. What’re you doing?”

“Seeing what he likes. Ah, here we go.” You had to love the internet. All I did was google “Cole Bryson” and “Boston,” and a dozen images popped up. Cole was tall, dark, and exceedingly handsome. Every picture showed the billionaire at events with various beautiful women on his arm.

“Ho my frickin’ God, he’sgorgeous! And he doesn’t like librarians. He likes hot chicks!” I shoved the phone at Elena and charged toward the racks.

“Hmm.” Elena scrolled through the pictures as I tore through the dresses. “I see what you mean. Isn’t that one of the Victoria’s Secret models?”

“Probably!” My nerves were flaring. Cole Bryson washot. As in smoking, panty-liquifying hot. As in, touch him, and you burst into flames hot. He was tall and muscular, his big shoulders straining beneath his suit coats, with an actor’s chiseled features and a shock of dark hair hanging over his brow.

And he was a billionaire.

Ho my frickin’ God, indeed.

I pulled out a black dress with a lower neckline. It was pretty but not perfect. “How much am I getting paid?”

“Same as Audrey. Once he told me that James Preston had referred him, I knew we’d get top dollar.” Elena cleared her throat. “If you complete the two-week assignment, your cut is sixty-five thousand dollars.”

“What?”

“Sixty-five thousand.” Elena sounded dead-serious. “Not including tip.”

I clapped a hand over my heart. “Are you fucking with me, Elena?”

“No, Jenny, I am not. And can you please stop using the ‘f’ word so much? The Prestons are a very proper family?—”

“Do you actually mean it?” I burst into tears. “Sixty-fivethousand?”

“Of course I mean it.” Elena clicked over to a side table and grabbed some tissues. “Here, dry your eyes. You don’t want to be blotchy for the client.”

“I k-know, I j-just can’t believe it.” I obediently wiped away my tears, careful not to get mascara all over my face. “I never thought I’d earn that much money in my life!”

After paying bills, the most leftover cash I’d ever had in my checking account was two hundred and nineteen dollars. Sixty-five thousand might as well have been ten million—it was an impossible sum of money, something I would never even dare to dream about.

“Well, you’re going to make that much now.” An emotion that might’ve been pity passed over the madam’s face, but it was gone before I could be sure. “And this is going to be quite the assignment. Over the next week, you’ll have drinks and dinners at multiple hotspots in Boston. And then there’s the rehearsal dinner and the wedding itself—it’s going to be the society event of the year. Andthenthe client mentioned that you’ll be joiningthe Prestons on a family-style honeymoon in the Caribbean. But don’t say anything to Audrey about that yet, okay? I’m not sure it’s public knowledge, and I don’t want to start a rumor.”

I clapped my hand over my heart again. “Are you freakingkiddingme, Elena? I’m going to theCaribbean?” I had a passport because the agency required it, but I’d never left the country. I’d only ever dreamed of going to an island. “With, like, white sand beaches? And palm trees? And turquoise water?”

“Yes, Jenny.” Elena smiled at me. “There’s turquoise water.”

“No fuckingway!” I grabbed the madam’s hands and jumped up and down. “I’ve never been to the Caribbean! I can’t believe it! My very own billionaire and a Caribbeanvacation! Holy fucking shit!”

“Jenny.” Elena didn’t join me in jumping up and down, but she at least held my hands. “The swearing has got to stop,please. For the love of all things holy, no more F-bombs!”

“I’ll try, I’ll try! I’m just so freaking excited! I can’t believe it!” I’d always dreamed about taking a vacation to an island with gorgeous water, sunsets, and tropical drinks. And hopefully iguanas—I’d always wanted to see an iguana!

“Let’s get you ready, okay?” Elena asked. “I want Mr. Bryson to be one hundred thousand percent satisfied with our services.”

“Oh, he will be.” I sniffled but squared my shoulders. “He might’ve been with a Victoria’s Secret model, but he’s never been with a woman likeme. I’m going to make this the best two weeks of his life!” I tossed my curls over my shoulder and started going through the racks again, nervous, excited, and utterly determined.

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