Page 2 of Becoming His

Brina

Iregretnotcheckingthe peephole when I see the bubbly blonde on the other side of my door. I let the wood go before she can open her loud mouth, hoping it shuts right in her face. Something deep inside me tells me I should be more respectful to someone, technically my boss, but it isn’t loud enough for me to listen.

Emery huffs as she catches the door and steps inside. “Really, Brina?”

“By law, I require 24-hour notice for a landlord visit,” I draw out, moving to the side so she can walk in.

She rolls her eyes and heads towards the living room, glancing around. “I don’t care what you do to the apartment, honestly. But something tells me you take care of things that belong to you.”

I narrow my eyes as she smiles. “Is there an actual reason for you disrupting my day off?”

“Two reasons,” she states, holding up her glittery pink nails as if I need a physical representation of the number. It’s also her obsession with everything pink that utterly disgusts me.

Scowling at her hand, I drop onto my couch, tucking my foot under my leg as she sits across from me. When she doesn’t elaborate, I crook my head at her. “Yes, please. Let’s not get to the point. I love this.”

Emery smiles smugly. “You’re so prickly. It’s perfect.”

Before I can tell her what I think about her, she continues. “We have a new girl starting, and I was wondering if she can use your spare bedroom till her apartment is ready.”

“Another stray?”

Emery habitually picks random people off the street and offers them a job. The problem is that not everyone is cut out for this type of work. Too many people connect sex with emotions and feelings.

“She’s sweet. The ying to your yang.”

“It’s yin,” I correct her.

She frowns, tilting her head. “No, like the Ying Yang Twins.”

Blinking, I stare at her, unsure if she’s fucking with me. I know Emery isn’t the ditzy blonde she projects. A ditzy blonde wouldn’t have been able to buy out Gisele for half of the escort company and then double our profits within a year. Her husband proudly boasted about her at the last company party, ensuring we knew it was all her due to her investment and financial decisions.

Rubbing my forehead, I sigh. “Emery… She can stay. I’m barely here as it is.”

“Right, about that…” she says with a grimace. “Your last two clients failed the health check.”

“WHAT!” I exclaim, standing up. My skin feels like it’s crawling, and I want to peel it off my bones.

She stands with me, reaching out before dropping her hand. “You cleared, but obviously, we had to end our contracts with them.”

“I want to test again,” I swallow down the saliva gathering in my throat. My tongue stings like it’s too heavy for my mouth. I don’t even care about the loss of regular clients. If they were irresponsible enough to get something, I don’t want to deal with them again.

“Of course,” she nods as if she already expected that. Then she sighs. “I am sorry, Brina.”

I’m sure the apology comes from a place of some responsibility from being the owner, but we both know this has never happened in the years we’ve worked here. Emery may be married and out of the game, but she put in a lot of hours before that. The rigorous testing is for our safety, and while some clients find it exasperating, I’ve never been more thankful for it.

“Which clients?”

She tells me, and I slump down onto the couch. They were two of my most loyal and frequent clients. The skin between my eyebrows wrinkles as I frown. There will be a tremendous loss of income, but there’s also a small sense of betrayal. One of them liked to fuck my ass without a condom, but that was because of a long build of trust between us. It hurt that he might have put me in danger without a care in the world.

I glance at Emery, and the pity on her face angers me. Scowling, I tuck my legs under myself again. “When is the new girl coming? Just send me her number, no need for you to drop again.”

Her lips twitch at the corner before she sits across from me again. “Over the weekend, she has nowhere else to go. But I actually have something else to ask.”

“Of course you do,” I grumble.

“A new client—“

I groan, dropping my head back. “Emery, I just—“

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