Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 87110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
“You can’t back out. You just paid a ton for a Brazilian wax. You need to show that shit to someone.”
“Okay, if it doesn’t work out, I’ll come over in a trench coat and flash you before I drink the night away.” I sighed. “I just need to remember to breathe.”
“Where are you now?”
“I’m just walking up to the entrance of The Peabody.”
“Make sure you call me the second it’s over, okay? Even before that if you need me.”
I blew out a shaky breath. “Okay. Thank you, Annabelle.”
“You got it, friend. Take care of yourself.”
With its dark wood décor and elaborate crown moldings, the historic Peabody Hotel was a place of rich architectural beauty. A beautiful Asian woman was playing the harp in a corner. G9’s choosing this place meant he had good taste.
My palms were sweaty as I entered the dark lounge, which was located diagonally across from the opulent front desk area. Red tablecloths were draped over the tables, and a massive chandelier shimmered from above.
At the very least, if he never showed, I could just have a drink and leave.
Remember, you don’t have to do anything you’re not totally comfortable with.
Looking around anxiously, I searched for a man in a black polo shirt.
My heart was pounding, and goosebumps peppered my skin. The room felt freezing cold.
Then, the feel of three fingers tapping on my shoulder caused me to jump before turning around.
That was the moment my heart nearly stopped. His familiar scent wafted in the air, as arousing as ever despite my nerves.
“Channing!”
Channing?
What was he doing here?
This was bad. I couldn’t let him find out about this. Gentleman Nine would be here any minute.
“You look beautiful, Amber.” He didn’t seem as surprised to see me as I was to see him.
Gentleman Nine and Channing could not meet!
On the verge of a panic attack, I stuttered, “Um…thank you. What…what are you doing here?”
Fiddling with his watch, Channing looked nervous—very unlike the cool and confident man I knew.
“That’s a great question.” He let out a single laugh as he gazed at the ceiling. “A great fucking question.”
“Are you meeting Emily?”
“No, no, I’m not.”
“What are you doing here, then?”
“Can we sit down somewhere, please?”
What was I supposed to say?
No, Channing, actually, I’m meeting a male prostitute for sex, so there’s no time to sit and chat.
“Um…sure.”
“I’m just gonna go get you a glass of wine,” he said before he swiftly made his way over to the bar.
I grabbed a seat. Stretching my neck, I kept looking around the room in search of black polo man. There was no sign of anyone who met that description. At this point, I was relieved he wasn’t here because I couldn’t imagine having to introduce him to Channing. That would have been totally awkward.
Channing returned to the table and handed me a large glass of white wine. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.”
I was still frantically searching the room when he interrupted me. “Amber, look at me.” His voice sounded even deeper than usual.
The look in his eyes told me something wasn’t right.
“What’s going on? Did something happen?” Paranoia started to set in that maybe he’d heard me talking to Annabelle. Oh, no! “Did you follow me here?”
“No. I came to meet you. I know why you’re here, and I have to explain.”
My heart felt like it dropped to my stomach.
He knows why I’m here?
I swallowed. “Excuse me?”
His face was beet red. I’d never seen Channing’s face turn that color in all the years I’d known him. I’d never seen him like this.
“I know you’re here to see Gentleman Nine.”
My stomach was in knots. Hearing that name come out of his mouth freaked me out.
How could this be?
“What…how did you know about that?”
“I need you to understand that I thought I was doing what was best for you.”
The room felt like it was swaying. “What was best for me? I’m so confused right now.”
“I know you are.”
He paused and just looked at me for what felt like a full minute.
“It’s me, Amber. I’m Gentleman Nine.”
What he said registered the wrong way at first. “You’re a prostitute?”
“Fuck, no. That didn’t come out right. Let me explain.”
My ears were pounding. “You’d better explain.”
Channing downed his drink until it was gone. It was some kind of golden brown-colored liquor.
He took a deep breath in and began to explain. “I came home from my Chicago trip while you were in the shower. I went to use your laptop that was sitting on the coffee table, so I could check Facebook. You left your message to him open, and I read it, even though that was clearly wrong of me. Anyway, I freaked out, Amber. I felt like you were making a mistake and that it was my duty to protect you. So, I sent another message pretending to be you and cancelled your original request.”