It’ll never work. He’s too hot for me, Gracie. Way too hot.” If she saw him, she’d understand.
“You know what? I’m not going to listen to this today. You’re going to march back in there and tell him when to pick you up. Do you understand me, Faith Lindsey Graham?” I should have known better than to think Gracie would agree with me.
“Crap. Yes. Okay. I’ll do it.” Guess it was time to put my big-girl panties on. Deep breath…
* * *
Joe
Faith came sheepishly back into the room. She puffed out her cheeks as she let out a long, slow breath. “Okay. I guess I’ll just try to let hair and makeup do its trick. Pick me up at four o’clock on Saturday. Is that okay?”
I tried desperately to hide my elation, but the grin that spread across my face simply could not be contained. “Yes, ma’am. Four o’clock. I have the address.” I had a moment of inspiration as she turned to leave.
“Faith?”
She looked exasperated when she turned around. Her brows were raised in consternation, and she had one hand firmly planted on her hip. “Yes?” She did have a backbone in there after all. Nice.
“What color are you wearing?”
She pinched her brows into a frown, clearly not happy with the answer. “Orange. The bridal party is wearing shades of brown and amber for the fall season, so my sister requested I wear orange. I’m not in the wedding, but she sweetly informed me that our mother would want me in some of the family pictures, and she didn’t want me to clash—of course.”
There was definitely a story there. Her words were dripping with scorn. But orange was fine with me. I was born in Philadelphia and still have an unhealthy obsession with the Flyers, so orange was great. “Okay, orange it is. I’ll see you in a couple of days.”
* * *
I t turned out that I couldn’t wait until Saturday to see her. I went through her file and did something I should never have done. I called her friend Grace, who had set up the date.
“Hello?”
“Hi. Is this Grace Davis?”
“Yes?”
Now I wasn’t quite so sure of what to say. I had to play this carefully, or I was going to come off sounding like a stalker. A nervous chuckle escaped as I tried to come up with something. “Uh, I’m not really sure what to say now.” I tried for an easy-going laugh then, but I wound up sounding like Jack Nicholson as the Joker. Fuck.
“You could start by telling me who this is and what you want.”
“Yeah, yeah, of course. Sorry. This is Joe Starling. I’m Faith Graham’s escort you hired?” Still had no idea what I wanted to say. “Look. I know this is awkward, but I just want to know what Faith likes. I probably shouldn’t be calling you to ask about her, but…” Aw, fuck. This was a mistake. “You know what? Forget I called, please. Sorry to bother you.” I was just about to hit the End Call button when she stopped me.
“Wait! Joe, tell me why you called.”
Just as the “No!” had come out of my mouth back at the office, I blurted, “I like her.”
I heard Grace laughing. “Okay. What do you want from me?”
“Well, for starters, can you tell me why she would say I’m too hot for her to go out with? Doesn’t she own a mirror?”
“Oh, I think I like you already, Joe. Finally, a guy with eyes in his head.” I could hear Grace let out a gusty sigh. “She comes from a family of models and snobs. They tell her all the time that she’s not good enough, successful enough, skinny enough, pretty enough. Over the years, she’s believed it all.”
“Sounds like a great way to grow up. We ate out of garbage cans at times, and still, my mom would tell me what a great provider I was for bringing dinner home.” I felt my body tighten as I let that last little tidbit of information slip out. I don’t talk about my past—ever. The past is the past for a reason. It’s best left there.
“Garbage cans, really? And Faith is rich, as I’m sure you know.” Her voice was hard now, and I
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley