Escorting the Player (The Escort Collection 3)

Eric let out a bark of laughter. "I'm pretty sure you're every breathing man's type. That's not the problem." He smiled at me kindly. "The problem is that this scenario was my idea. I hired you because I believe that you'll help strengthen Chase's image. But he's not thrilled about it. It's not personal, so please don't take it that way."

"Would you like to me to leave for a little while so you two can figure it out, or he has more time to adjust to the idea?"

Quite frankly, being as far away from Chase Layne as I could sounded like a great idea. I was pretty sure that I disgusted him. Maybe he could set his agent straight, and I could get out of here with at least some shred of dignity left.

I was quickly losing hope about the money. I tried not to think about it.

The agent shook his head. "No way. We've cleared you, we've signed the contract, and the press is already posting pictures of you. You're in. So go get changed—we're going to have drinks and then we're going to dinner. The three of us."

"Chase is onboard for this?" I asked.

"Absolutely."

I must have looked worried, because Eric reached out and patted my arm. "We'll have fun. I promise."

I went and changed into a simple black dress and sandals. All of the clothes that Elena had packed for me were expensive and well made. This dress probably cost more than I made in a month waitressing at the Sizzling Ranch. I looked at myself in the mirror, smoothing the fabric. The dress looked good. It hugged my curves and showed off my legs without being too sexy. I wondered what it would feel like to own a dress like this, to have it in my closet. To have paid for it with my own money.

Just wearing it gave me some much needed confidence. I put on a little mascara and some lip gloss. I pushed my boobs up and fluffed my hair. Chase Layne might hate me, but I wasn't going to give up this assignment without a fight.

Now if I could just get him to talk to me.

I found Chase and Eric in the kitchen. Eric was lining up exotic-looking shots on the island and he'd put out a bowl of freshly cut limes. The agent grinned at me when I came through, his eyes drifting down my body. "You look lovely, Avery."

Chase turned to me. His eyes stayed firmly on my face. "Hey."

I smiled at him tentatively. "Hey." I turned back to Eric. "Shots?"

Eric's eyes sparkled mischievously. "That's right. They're called A Kick in the Crotch. Vodka, blue curacao and cranberry juice."

"They're purple," I said, wrinkling my nose.

"A Kick in the Crotch?" Chase looked menacingly at his friend.

Eric shrugged. "Sometimes you need one."

"You're seriously an asshole. You know that, right?" Chase asked him, grabbing a drink.

"I know that. Right." Eric grinned at him. "And for the lady." He handed me a shot, which I held carefully.

"It's not going to bite you," Chase said. There was a note of sympathy in his voice.

I felt my shoulders relax a little. "I'm not a big drinker."

Chase actually smiled at me. "I'm not usually, either. At least, not during training. So we can be partners in relative sobriety. We'll leave the puking up to Eric." He looked as if he'd relaxed a bit since our last encounter, and I felt the nervous ache in my stomach subside slightly.

Eric knocked back his shot and shoved a lime into his mouth. "We have a driver," he said, through the lime. "It might very well be a boot-and-rally sort of night."

Chase tipped his glass toward mine. "Cheers. To Eric puking."

I laughed and, knowing full well that I had no idea what I was getting into, drank my first A Kick in the Crotch shot ever.

Chapter Seven

AVERY

Someone must have stuffed sand in my mouth.

At least, that's what it felt like. I opened my eyes slowly, aware only of my dry mouth and the pounding in my head. Welcome to being kicked in the crotch. I gripped the bed, which was threatening to tilt.