Escorting the Billionaire (The Escort Collection 1)

My phone rang, and for a second, my heart stopped. Audrey. But of course, I’d driven her away so cruelly that it wasn’t her. It wasn’t ever going to be her.

Instead, it was Elena.

“What?” I snapped.

“Mr. Preston,” she said in an apologetic tone, “I just got off the phone with Dre. I am so sorry.”

“What did she tell you?” I asked.

“That you fired her. She wasn’t forthcoming with a reason, but I can only imagine,” she said. “The wedding is this weekend—please, let me make it up to you. Let me send another girl. You can tell your family that you’ve been dating her on the side, and that at the last moment, you decided to bring her as your guest instead.”

“Elena,” I said, wiping my face roughly with a towel, “that’s a stupid fucking idea.”

I heard her sigh. “What do you want me to say? We have to figure something out. I don’t want to leave you like this.”

“You mean you don’t want to lose my business, and you don’t want me saying bad things about your service.”

“That’s certainly true,” she said, “but I also don’t want to leave you stranded right before these big events. Please tell me what I can do to make this better.”

I watched the blonde I’d scared off eyeing me warily from her spot on the treadmill. I thought of my perfect apartment upstairs, immaculate and barren.

“Please tell Audrey I’d like her to come back. I’ll triple the fee for her troubles. You need to ensure me that half of that money will go directly to her. She’s the one earning it.”

“Of course, Mr. Preston,” she said, and I heard barely concealed glee in her voice.

I watched the blonde begin to run, her tits bouncing up and down. But I only thought of Audrey. How she’d arched beneath me last night, moaning. How she’d slept in my arms.

“And Elena, please tell her that this time, I would like to enjoy the full range of her services.”

* * *

I had Kai take me to her right after I took a shower. I was worried that if I let more time pass, she would run away and hide.

I called Elena again from the car. “I need her street number, please,” I said.

“Mr. Preston, I don’t usually—”

“I’m in her neighborhood right now. Give it to me,” I snapped.

I repeated it to Kai, and he turned down the street into a sad-looking neighborhood. The yuppies had clearly not gotten to this part of town yet. The row houses were all triplexes, in various stages of sagging. Audrey’s was painted a bright turquoise; the paint was peeling in large, insidious-looking curls.

I went up and rang her buzzer.

“What,” she said flatly.

“It’s me,” I said. “James. I’m here to pick you up.”

There was nothing but dead silence for a moment, and I held my breath. I wasn’t sure what she was going to do. I buzzed again.

“Audrey.”

“What,” she said again.

“Let me up.”

“Yes, sir,” she said and buzzed me in.

I went up the ramshackle, worn stairs to her apartment, located on the second floor. The building smelled foul, of odd spices and indoor cats. I knocked, and she opened the door, a neutral look plastered across her face.