Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 91212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
How lucky were we that we didn't have to resort to such things to get through school? I imagine there were people on scholarships who had to work through college, but there wasn't anyone like that in my circle of friends. We all had trust funds and enough money that student loans weren't even a thing. I knew then how lucky I was, but when people mentioned having to work through college, I imagined they did what I did and helped a family member in whatever organization they ran. I helped my mom with Chapter One, the literacy program she started right after my dad was elected as senator to his first term.
Are people really having to sell their bodies for an education?
Maybe Chapter One isn't the best place for me to focus my energies. Maybe a program to help college students would be better.
"Did you enjoy your time with us?"
I snap my head in the direction of the door, finding the woman who escorted me here standing in the doorway.
"It was lovely. How do I tip Ben for his wonderful performance?"
"Tipping isn't expected, Ms. Preston," she says, leaving no room for argument. "If you'll follow me."
Chapter 11
Ace
I know for a fact that if I weren't as mentally stable as required to be a member of ICE, I'd be in the middle of a PTSD flashback when I open my eyes to the room filled with a flashing red light.
"What the fuck," I mutter, pulling my arm from the woman's torso and using the back of my hand to swipe at my eyes.
"Shit," she snaps as she sits up. "I fell asleep."
"Makes two of us," I mutter, sitting up as well.
I legit fell asleep, holding a woman I don't even know. How does that shit even happen? I'm supposed to be fucking working, not cuddling in a brothel bed.
"Fuck my life, I'm getting old," I growl as I bend over to grab my shoes.
The woman whose name I still don't know and probably never will grabs her robe from the floor, her eyes locked on me as she dresses.
If I had any doubt that they have cameras in the rooms, I don't now. Once we were awake, the flashing stopped and the light in the room is a little brighter now that my time must be up.
"I'm so sorry," she whispers.
"I had the best time," I tell her, wondering how there are days I feel so young but also so damned old. "That was the best nap I ever had."
"You don't have to leave just yet," she says, a sultriness to her tone, but she doesn't close the distance between the two of us.
I can already tell this is the upsell part of the night, where she's going to try to convince me to spend a little more money before I leave tonight or get me to make another appointment with her before I do.
"I have a meeting," I lie.
She holds on to her composure.
"I'd like to see you again," she says as she bites her lower lip, and I swear my age is even more glaringly obvious right now than it ever has been.
Forty years ago, hell, probably even thirty years ago, I would've been all over this woman. My hormones would have me taking out a fucking loan to spend a few more hours with her, but I'm no longer a horny guy in my thirties. It probably has less to do with my maturity and more to do with the fact that there must've come a time in my life where women who are young enough to be my granddaughter, if I would've had kids , just don't appeal to me. She's completely legal but doesn't interest me at all.
What a fucking shame, honestly.
"I'll make sure they know to add you to my list at the front," I assure her, wondering all the while if Cora got into more trouble than she was able to handle while I went to fucking sleep.
Maybe retirement isn't such a bad idea after all.
"Have a good night, Mr. Wiedman," she says, her hands on my forearm as she leans in and brushes a quick kiss on my cheek.
She looks back at me one more time before leaving the room, and I swear I see more pain than a girl her age should have in her pretty blue eyes. I can tell with just that one look that she's here of her own free will but it doesn't come without a laundry list of regrets for the things she has had to do to make money.
As soon as the door on the far side of the room closes, the one I was escorted through opens, the woman who brought me here standing in the doorway.
"Anything else we can do for you this evening, Mr. Wiedman?"