Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96129 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96129 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
I answered it quickly, pressing the button to accept the call. I stood and walked to the other side of the office. It wasn’t very big and didn’t give me much room away from Dominic, but having my back turned to him felt a little more private.
“Are you okay?” I whispered.
“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked.
I wanted to scream. The only reason I was in this room right now finishing up paperwork to work for an escort service owned by Dominic De Luca, of all people, was the man on the other side of the line and he was acting like I shouldn’t be worried about him. He was the reason I’d let Anthony Costello touch me, hurt me, and the reason I’d poured my heart out to Gabe. Basically, the reason for all of this crap, and even though he was the one behind bars, from where I stood, I felt like I was the one losing in this scenario.
“Just checking,” I said, swallowing back my frustration.
“I’ll be out by Christmas.”
My heart stopped. “For sure?”
“Yes, for sure. My lawyer confirmed it yesterday,” he said. His lawyer. Another debt owed to the Costellos. “You still haven’t gone to la bodega, right?”
“No, you asked us not to.”
“Good. And your brother?”
“He’s in Mexico visiting Vicky’s family and going to Cabo and all that. He’ll be there for the next two weeks.”
“Good, good. No need to worry about me,” he said. “What’s up with the debt?”
“I’m almost done paying it,” I whispered, glancing over my shoulder at Dominic, who was watching me like a hawk. I looked away quickly.
“You know I don’t agree with what you’re doing, but I can’t thank you enough.” He breathed out into the phone. “I owe you my life, you know that?”
“Yeah. I do, actually.” I wiped my face with the back of my hand. I hadn’t even realized I’d started crying.
“When I get back, I don’t want you to come over right away. Wait until I know it’s safe, okay?”
“Yeah.”
“I love you. If you speak to your brother, relay the message.”
“I will. Love you too, Papi.” I swallowed against the emotion that built in my throat each time we said goodbye. It always felt like the last time we would, and I hated it.
“I can’t wait to see you. I can’t wait to rejoin my softball league, to walk the park again, to take the subway. I even miss the smell of the streets and the impatient people on the sidewalk.”
At that, I smiled. “Can’t wait to hear you complain about that last one.”
He laughed. “See you soon.”
The call ended and I focused on composing myself before turning around. Even though I wasn’t looking at him, I felt Dominic still watching me. When I finally went back and sat down, I folded my hands on my lap and met his gaze, struck by the intensity in them.
“Thank you for letting me answer that.” I cleared my throat. “What else do you need from me?”
“Your bank account information.” He slid a sheet of paper over to me. I knew this all by heart, so I jotted it down and slid it back. “You always did have a great memory.”
“Some things never change.” I tried for a smile, but it felt sad so I stopped.
I wasn’t going to fake anything with Dom. He’d known me when I went through my awkward tween phase, when my entire face broke out with pimples, and when I had braces. It wasn’t like I wanted to impress him. I wasn’t sure that I could even if I tried. The man had it in his mind that I was dating his brother, or maybe he knew I wasn’t and just wanted me to outright admit it for some reason. With the way he blatantly flirted with me, that was the only plausible conclusion. That, or he simply didn’t care whether or not I was dating his brother or anyone else. There was no telling with him. Unlike his brother, Dominic was not an easy person to figure out.
“Does the company pay you per performance or are you on some type of salary?”
“Per performance,” I said sadly.
“That’s a bad thing?” He searched my face and I knew there were a million more questions he wanted to ask me.
“It’s not,” I said. “Not really. I’m grateful that I still have the opportunity, even if it is a temp role.”
“Did you have a steady role before?”
“I was on salary, yes.”
He waited for me to expand on that, and when I didn’t, he asked, “How much do they pay you for temporary roles?”
“It varies. For this, they’re paying me eight hundred.”
“So you’ll make four grand the weekends you have five shows.”
“Yep.”
“And you still need to escort?” He squinted at me.
“Do we live in the same city?” I asked.