An Escort for Christmas

I grinned. Those were my favorite too. “How about drink of choice?”

“Maker’s Mark, on the rocks,” he said, and then added, “you’re pretty good at this. I guess I should have realized you’re a professional. This is what you do for a living.”

Whatever small comfort that existed between us disappeared with his statement. I didn’t know why, but it stung that he assumed he was just another number to me.

“Right.”

“So what about you?” he asked. “What’s your backstory going to be? I’m sure you already have one you give when you’re out with clients, so it’s probably best to use that.”

Yeah, except I didn’t.

“Well, as you know, my name is Harper Nichols. I lived in West Virginia until I was twelve, so that’s why I have a bit of an accent. After that I moved to Jersey. I like chocolate chip cookies.” Lie. “And sparkling Shiraz. My favorite color is purple.”

He frowned, and I wondered if it was because of the obvious flatness in my voice. Almost all of that stuff was true, except for the cookies. I wasn’t going to admit I liked the same kind he did.

“What about your family?” he asked. “They’re going to want to know.”

I wrung my hands together and glanced out the window. “No living relatives, so it shouldn’t be a problem. But I can tell them whatever you’d like in that regard.”

He was quiet for a moment, but I couldn’t look at him. I didn’t want to see his pity or his questions of whether or not I was telling the truth.

“Okay, one last thing, Harper,” he said. “What should we tell them you do for work?”

“You mean besides being a whore?” I answered through bleary eyes. “I guess that wouldn’t really fly, would it? I don’t know, Jameson. What do you want me to be? This is your game after all.”

Chapter Six

Jameson hardly said two words to me after my little meltdown earlier. I didn’t blame him. I had no idea why I was letting my emotions get the best of me in this situation. I needed to get it together, and fast because we were pulling up in his family’s driveway.

The place was a mansion. Quite literally.

The exterior was ivory colored stone with giant white pillars that resembled some sort of Romanesque palace. It was breathtaking, especially against the snowy backdrop.

I was officially out of my league before we even stepped foot in the door. Still, I straightened my spine and acted unimpressed. I did this sort of thing all the time. Yeah, right.

Jameson looked just as uncomfortable as I did when we walked up the stairs. I wondered why. The large oak door swung open, and a woman with pale blonde hair and dark eyes pulled Jameson into her arms.

“I’m so glad you’re here, my beautiful boy.”

He showed his dimples for a moment before he straightened his expression again.

“Harper this is my mom, Julia King. Mom, my girlfriend Harper Nichols.”

“Oh, it’s so lovely to finally meet you,” she gushed, pulling me in for a warm hug. I was a little taken aback by her warmth, but I recovered quickly.

“It’s lovely to meet you,” I replied.

“Come in, come in.” She ushered us inside. “Your sisters are going to be so happy to see you.”

We made it all of ten feet before we ran into four other women who resembled Jameson’s mom. I ventured a guess these were the sisters.

They took turns hugging him and exchanging quick pleasantries before their eyes fell on me. And suddenly, I was even more uncomfortable in my short dress and sky high stilettos. I could only imagine what they must think of me.

“Harper, these are my sisters.” Jameson gestured awkwardly. “Evelyn, Amelia, Lacey, and Lily.”

“Hello.” I nodded. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Lily stepped forward right away and pulled me in for a hug. “Thank you for coming. It’s so nice to finally have our brother home for the holidays.”

Huh?

I tried to sneak a glance at Jameson, but he looked away. Evelyn was staring at me, her eyes narrowed. I could already tell she didn’t like me, and I hated that. I wanted to tell her this wasn’t me. But this was all part and parcel of the game.