Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 65939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
“Keep this up,” he says. “I knew you’d be useful if you got rid of the mopey juju, and I was right, as usual.”
“Thank you.” It takes a lot of effort not to put a question mark at the end of that sentence.
He approaches me—as in, advances way into my personal space—then takes my chin and twists my head left and right.
“You haven’t just lost the mope,” he says, and for some reason, his breath smells exactly like the citrus notes of Chanel Coco Mademoiselle. “You’ve done a three-sixty. You’re glowing now.”
If I’d done a three-sixty, I’d be back in mope land. Obviously, I don’t inform Mr. Boss of this. I just mutter “thank you” instead.
“You’re welcome,” he says imperiously and leaves my personal space in order to shout commands at his other minions.
A slender hand lands on my shoulder. “I think it is me everyone should be thanking,” Catherine murmurs.
I turn her way. “I agree, but… why this time?”
She pulls me aside. “You saw Ash, didn’t you?”
I nod.
“And now you’re glowing.” She looks at me like “connect the dots already.”
I stare at her. How could she know why I’m glowing? Does she smell sex on me, like a dog? For that matter, is that what her husband picked up on as well—my orgasms?
“I know exactly how you feel,” she says. “Ash is so amazing. He left me equally speechless and glowing… countless times.”
“What?” The question comes out angrier than appropriate for work.
Catherine cocks her head. “I told you: Tierre and I are in an open marriage, so you don’t need to be so indignant. In fact, he likes it when I—”
“But… are you saying Ash sleeps with all his clients?” I hold my breath as I wait for her answer, but I already know what she’s going to say.
“Not all. Just the female ones,” she clarifies. “When Tierre took a session, he got an actual workout.”
I feel like I’ve been sucker punched. In my ovaries. And then had them extracted without anesthesia.
“He’s… a gigolo?”
Catherine giggles. “Don’t be silly. That’s such an outdated term. He’s a personal trainer with benefits. Have you never heard of such a thing?”
I shake my head, and she tells me about her tennis coach, who goes down on her, and her pool boy, who’s a great foot masseuse, and her plumber, who services all sorts of openings that aren’t pipes.
With every word she speaks, I feel more and more nauseated.
Catherine’s phone rings just as she was about to tell me what she does with her accountant. Apologizing, she picks up, and when the call is over, she says, “It’s about to start. Let’s go.”
“What’s about to start?”
A porn film where Ash is the lead? An orgy where he fucks every female that I work with?
Nothing would surprise me at this point.
“Milk’s funeral,” she says. “Or wake. Or repass. I’m not sure what the terminology should be, given that there’s no body to bury.”
Did I say nothing would surprise me? I should know better than to even think such a thing when Tierre is involved.
So, yeah, the whole crew celebrates the life and the ultimate sacrifice of Milk the Iguana, and if Tierre were to give such a genuinely heartfelt speech at my funeral, it would almost make getting eaten by a tiger worth it in the end.
“You’ve impressed me twice in one day,” Tierre says to me when the service is over. “You’re the only person besides myself who’s truly grieving for dear Milk.”
I nod solemnly, not about to tell him that I’m not. What he saw was my being upset that yet another guy turned out to be a dog. A manwhore. A clever one too, because he somehow made me feel like I was special. Like maybe the two of us might have—
“Okay, the service is over,” Tierre says. “And the shoot is about to start, so…”
I channel all my acting prowess into a semi-human smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”
Grunting with approval, Tierre turns on his heel and flits away on a cloud of perfume.
Hey. I didn’t lie. I will be fine. Eventually.
Taking out my phone, I find Ash’s number, and without hesitation, I block and delete it.
There.
The path to being fine has already begun.
Chapter 10
Ashton
When I wake up, I’m alone in my bed.
Weird.
“Kendall?”
No reply.
I get up and check the bathroom.
Nope. She’s missing, and so are the clothes she borrowed.
Confused, I check the kitchen just in case, but she’s not there either.
Okay. It’s official. She’s not in the apartment.
And there’s no note. No call. No text.
Very weird.
“What about you?” I say to Sir Ems. “Did you see her?”
He wags his tail, but I can’t tell if that means yes or no.
I do know what his eyes are saying, though, so I feed him, then eat some oatmeal and take him for a walk, bringing my phone with me just in case.