Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 60736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
“Oh my God!” she cuts me off, yelling into the phone. “Are you moving in?”
I bring my hand to my forehead, as if to shade my eyes from my own embarrassment. “Well yes, I’d like to discuss the possibility…”
“Yay! We’re going to be roomies. I know you can’t see me, but I am literally jumping up and down right now, spilling Pad Thai all over the place. We are going to have sooo much fun!”
I can’t help but laugh. Her enthusiasm is contagious. “Calm down, calm down. It’s just temporary.” My stomach turns, thinking of what I need to ask her next. Even with free rent, twenty three dollars isn’t going to cut it. I need funds. “And…there’s one more thing.”
I’m going to ask her. Once I do, there’s no turning back.
I can’t do it.
“Babe, you still there?”
I can’t!
“Emmeline?”
Okay, I have to do this. Temporary things are just...for now.
Right?
I spit it all out in one breath. “You know your sister’s business? The one you said she wouldn’t let you work for?”
“Sugar Daddies Escort Service? Yeah, I’m still bummed she wouldn’t hire me, but Shane kind of put a stop to it anyway, when he proposed. Why?”
“I can see why a man wouldn’t want his fiancée working as an escort.”
“I wasn’t his fiancée at the time!” She slurps a noodle. “But back to you. Why are you asking?”
“Um…is she…hiring?”
There’s a long pause, and she’s finally back, giving a gasp. “Are you thinking of being an escort? You? Miss goody goody straight A’s Emmeline?”
“Stop.” I’m grasping at straws. How do I explain this? “I have a wild side.” I try to think of some of the more devilish things I do. “Sometimes I leave the tv on when I leave my apartment. Or forget to put the cap on the milk. Oh! And I never, ever use a bookmark. I even write in my textbooks.”
“Wow. That’s enough to get you convicted.” She gives a snort. “But seriously, I think the guys would love you—those green eyes, that long dark hair, your killer legs—you’d be booked solid.”
I think of my hectic study schedule. Sometimes my only rest is grabbing a few hours of sleep on my couch, my laptop open beside me. I only have time to spare for one night. “Well, that’s not an option. This would be a one-time only thing. I’ve got med school to pay for, and if you really don’t mind me staying with you for free…” I wince, feeling physical pain at the idea of not paying rent.
“Of course you don’t have to pay. My brother-in-law doesn’t even charge me rent.”
“I’ll cook! I’ll clean! I’ll even take out the smelly garbage!”
She snorts. “Babe, even I don’t take out the garbage.”
I stifle a sigh. Shane’s really good to her.
“Well then, I only need enough to meet my expenses for the semester, my tuition is covered.” I can live off pasta and bagged salad if I need to. I just need to get through the next few months then I’ll be able to start my three years of paid residency to become a doctor. “So a one-time thing should cover my expenses.”
“I’ll ask Miranda if you can interview. I’m sure she’ll say yes. Now, get your ass over here. It’s your day off, and we’ve got to get you moved in.”
“Not today.” I give a laugh. “I still have ten days on my lease, but I’ll start packing.”
We say our goodbyes and I slip my phone in my pocket, a weight lifting from my shoulders.
I have a place to stay when the month ends, and—hopefully—some money coming in.
My lifetime dream of being a doctor is still within my reach.
I don’t think about the other choice I just made. If I do, I’ll change my mind.
I think of the women I’ve met who work for Sugar Daddies. Lexi’s older sister Miranda’s amazing, and super happily married. Her friend Katie, a former employee, met her current super sexy and filthy rich husband on an escort gig.
It isn’t a dating service, Emm, I chide myself. And yet… No. I can’t think on it, not now.
I spend my last twenty dollars on moving boxes and packing paper, getting some freebies at the back of the supermarket. It’s awkward, stuffing them into the trunk of my little red hatchback, but somehow, I manage. Fresh air feels good, so I roll the window down, letting the wind blow back my hair as I sing along with the radio at the top of my lungs.
I’m going to make it after all.
Boxes balanced on my hip, packing paper under my arm, I wrangle my key into the doorknob and make my way inside my apartment.
I’m greeted with the loud meow of a grumpy cat—a noise akin to a bird being strangled.
Dropping my boxes to the ground, I rush over to Mr. Whiskers. “Hey there, baby. Don’t think I forgot about you.” I scoop him up into my arms, burying my face in his thick ginger fur.