Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
I shake my head.
“No, I can’t. It’s just too insane.”
Lucy nods with sympathy.
“I totally get it. No pressure, girlfriend.”
Then, our conversation morphs into the latest gossip about Prince Harry and Meghan Markle, and we giggle like two girls at a sleepover. Soon, Brandon reappears, and Lucy’s called away to tend to their daughter, so we hang up.
“Stay strong, okay?” she says, blowing me a kiss. “I know you’ll find a way, Sar. You always land on your feet.”
I wave goodbye, although I’m not sure I’ll find my footing this time. After all, I can’t believe my parents are in this much trouble! What were Judy and Bill thinking? OMG.
To make things even worse, what I didn’t tell Lucy is that my parents expect me to fix everything for them because that’s what always happens. Judy and Bill always turn to their trustworthy, responsible older daughter to make sure that everything turns out okay.
But I’m not sure what I’m going to do this time. I have a little bit of savings, but nothing close to the money the bank wants. Plus, I have no real options. What can I do? Sell a kidney? Offer myself up for some medical trials? A shiver runs down my spine. I’m not sure I’d be willing to go in that direction either.
My mind wanders to the site Lucy mentioned earlier and I frown. I don’t want to do it, but at this point, there are no other feasible paths. Plus, it won’t hurt just to do some googling, right?
As a result, I grab my computer from the table next to my bed and search for City Girls. Their website pops up immediately, and it’s surprisingly classy-looking with a black background and elegant script. I confirm that I’m eighteen years old, and then the main page comes up. My eyes take everything in. There are a few headshots of beautiful women, and immediately I’m suspicious. These girls are model-pretty, and this has to be airbrushed, right?
But when I click on their biographies, they’re refreshingly down to Earth. One girl says she enjoys playing with her dogs, and hopes to open her own dog-walking business. Another says that she’s getting a degree in Early Childhood Education, and wants to become an elementary school teacher. The ladies seem normal, and I’m relieved.
My finger trembling, I select “Contact” and a number and an email address pop up. Below that are submission guidelines for girls who’d like to be considered by City Girls. OMG, am I really going to do this?
But then I grit my teeth. This is just the next step in my research, I decide. I’m not committing to anything. After all, maybe after seeing my pictures, the agency won’t want me. So I pop over to my email and open up a new message. After writing a short bio and attaching a semi-flattering headshot, as well as an old photo of me in a bikini, I hit send. There, I did it.
Then I slam my laptop lid shut and toss it to the side before shaking my head once more. This is crazy and there’s no way I’ll be hired. After all, the bikini pic reveals a bit of my tummy pooch, and my thighs are thick and creamy, not long and thin. My hair is slicked back from my head, and I have a big, goofy smile that reveals the dimple in my cheek.
But what choice do I have? I’ll do whatever it takes to save my family, including becoming a lady of the night if that’s what it takes.
2
Braden
I stride into the Hotel Riverside and adjust my tie. This is a classy place and a suit is appropriate, given that the other guests are decked out formally as well. The women teeter in high heels and cocktail dresses, and the men are smartly outfitted in blazers. It’s a high-end clientele, but unbeknownst to anyone, it’s also my favorite setting to meet escorts.
After all, I like my girls classy, and the best ones blend into a crowd seamlessly. No one will be able to tell that the woman I’m with is actually a lady of the night, and not a regular date. And no, I don’t need to pay women to hang out with me. It’s just something I prefer to do on occasion because the women I date always end up expecting something from me in the end. I’m not a big fan of long-term relationships, and marriage is totally out of the question. As a result, sometimes I turn to professionals because then there’s no promise of a happily ever after, which is the perfect arrangement for a bachelor like myself.
I take out my phone and see it’s 8:05 p.m. already. She’s five minutes late, but then I realize I’ve been looking at the smaller bar behind the door, whereas there’s a larger bar across the way with a beautiful brunette seated at the end. That must be her.