Page 12 of Escorting the Mogul

COLE

Ho my frickin’God, indeed.

Jenny the escort was, hands down, the prettiest girl I’d ever seen in my life. I’d been with plenty of gorgeous women, but not all beautiful women werepretty, not like she was. Jenny’s was an accessible beauty, All-American, her friendly, open face impossible to look away from.

Her dirty-blond curls tumbled over her shoulders, her complexion was dewy and fresh, and her full, pouty lips were natural and incredible. Then there was her figure. My escort had perfectly round, bouncy breasts—and I could tell just by looking at them that they were real, perfect just the way nature intended. Her body was toned but also lush. She was just so natural, down to the expression of pure excitement on her face.

She’d only said a few words to me, but I could already tell that I’dnevermet anyone like Jenny before.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Jenny. And I agree, we are going to have a great couple of weeks.” I held out my arm for her. “Shall we?”

“Yeah. We shall.” She grinned at me and took my arm. I was momentarily engulfed by her scent, something coconut-y mixedwith a spiciness that reminded me vaguely of patchouli oil. Whatever it was, it made my mouth water.

Jenny tossed her hair over her shoulder and eyed me as we followed Elena from the lobby. “You smell good,” she said.

Her statement, so direct and unrehearsed, caught me off guard. “Why… Thanks. So do you.”

She grinned in pleasure. “Thanks. I use a coconut body spray. I think it smells wicked good.”

“It does.” I grinned back. “It does smell wicked good.”

When was the last time a woman had said “wicked good” in my presence?Prep school? College?In any event, it was refreshing. Jenny wasn’t putting on any airs for me, and I appreciated the hell out of it.

She grinned more, pleased. That’s when I started believing that the next two weeks were going to be fun.Fun.When was the last time I’d had that? Firing the previous hockey coach was the only thing that came to mind, but that was satisfying, not fun. Not the same thing.

I swiped my Black Amex card at the front desk, not giving the hefty price tag a second thought. I would’ve paid triple. Jenny was worth every cent; I could already tell.

“Do you like Italian food?” I asked, putting my arm around her.

“Love it,” she said immediately.

“Then let’s go to the North End for a quick bite. I know just the place.” I turned to Elena. “Can you have her things sent over? I’m at Fifty Liberty in the Seaport.”

“Absolutely, Mr. Bryson. I hope you enjoy yourself.” The madam smiled at me with genuine warmth. Ihadjust paid her a large sum of money. “Jenny, I’ll check in with you later this week. Let me know if you need anything.”

Jenny winked at her. “I think I’m all set, Elena.”

She snuggled up happily against me as I led her out. We’d just met, but it was good to have my arm around her, her warm body tucked next to mine. She fit perfectly against my chest. With the sun shining on us and my gorgeous hired date next to me, I felt like a million dollars.

Scratch that. I felt like abilliondollars. Which, I’m not going to lie, was a hell of a lot better.

My Porsche was double-parked out front. A disgruntled driver honked as I opened the door for Jenny. He yelled something unintelligible, but I smiled and waved. I climbed behind the wheel, still grinning. “I feel bad for that guy. He’sdefinitelynot having as good of a day as I am.”

“Ha! You’re funny, Cole.” She ran her hands along the interior of the car. “What is this, the CayenneTurbo?”

I laughed as I threw the car into drive. “You know your Porsches?”

“I know cars, yeah.” She had a mild Boston accent, just another thing I found inexplicably charming. I wanted to ask her what she drove, but I wasn’t sure what her situation was. I didn’t want to embarrass her.

“What’s your favorite kind?” I asked instead.

“Hmm, that’s a tough question.” She pouted, looking impossibly beautiful as she thought about it. “I guess I don’t know the answer. But if I could afford any car to buy today, I’d have to go with a Range Rover. Because that’s what all the rich bitches drive.”

I laughed. “Is it? Is that what all the rich bitches drive?”

Jenny nodded. “I think so. Every time I see a Range Rover around town, there’s a hot, rich woman behind the wheel. I’d like to have a car like that.” Her cheeks turned a little pink. “Anyway, how do you like this car? It’s fast, right?”

“I love it—and yeah, it’s fast. Let me show you.” I threw the gear into sports mode and hit the gas. Jenny whoopedas I zigzagged between cars, more people honking at us and gesturing angrily.

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