Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Giselle backs up, and shaking her head with a large grin splayed upon her face, says, “That’s from the movie, and I’m pretty sure, you didn’t even say it right. Read. The. Book.” Then, plucking the mug out of my hand, she goes about making her coffee.
I study her as she flits around my kitchen like she belongs here. She grabs the milk and sugar from the fridge and adds them both to her coffee. Then she turns around and leans against the counter. Her foot pops up against the cabinet, exposing her sexy thigh. She lifts the hot coffee to her lips and blows on it. Her eyes come up slowly, and she peers up at me through her thick lashes.
“Thank you for last night,” she says softly. “It felt really good to be able to talk to someone about everything. Thank you for not judging me.”
I cut across the kitchen and encroach on her space. Then, taking the mug out of her hands, I set it on the counter. She gives me a confused look, until my hands come down on either side of her, caging her in. Our faces only inches apart from each other. Her look of confusion turns to nervousness.
“Why did you stop me from kissing you?” I murmur.
Giselle’s lids flutter closed. She takes a deep breath, and when she reopens her eyes it’s as if she’s found her confidence. Her face takes on a look of determination. “Kill…you’re a pro ball player who uses escorts so you don’t have to have sex. I’m an escort who fucks guys for money… and I don’t date athletes. Last night was exactly what I needed. Someone to talk to. And I’d like to think it was what you needed as well. Someone to share what you went through all those years ago. If you want to be friends, I can definitely use one. But that’s all I can be. Your friend.”
I stare at her for a minute, deciding where to begin first, because there’s so much wrong with everything she just said. Finally, I start with her issue with athletes.
“Christian is a musician,” I point out. “You mentioned you don’t date athletes back in the Hamptons. Did one break your heart?”
Giselle shakes her head, then lifts my arm up and ducks underneath. She grabs her coffee off the counter and sashays across the kitchen. “No, I don’t date musicians, athletes, pilots, traveling salesmen, doctors without borders…anyone who travels for their job.” She shrugs and takes a sip of her coffee before she continues. “I’m not about to be cheated on again, and it’s been proven more times than not, guys who travel, cheat. My dad traveled with his job and he cheated on my mom. Christian cheated on me while on the road.”
“Nick is an athlete and he would never cheat on Olivia,” I state matter-of-factly.
“Look, it doesn’t matter. That’s just one part of it. Did you not hear the part about me being an escort?”
“Yeah, I heard,” I tell her, “but that’s going to change. Even if you want to just be friends.” I want to add for now, but I don’t. I’ll take it slow with Giselle, but I’m not going to settle on just being friends with her. For the first time in years I want to see where things can go with a woman, and I’m not about to let her stubbornness get in my way. And yes, I’m fully aware just how much of a hypocrite I sound like, when just a few short weeks ago I was accusing her of living off Olivia. But that was before I took the time to find out the entire story. And now that I know, I’m going to make it up to Giselle. I’m not going to let her sell her body to take care of her family.
“That’s not your decision to make.” She takes another sip of her coffee. “I need to get going. I took the day off to meet with my mom’s doctors.” She pours the remaining coffee into the sink and rinses out the mug. Then she heads back into my bedroom.
Following her, I say, “This conversation isn’t over.” She lifts her arms up in a whatever you say gesture.
I shower while she gets dressed and then we head down to the garage so I can take her home to get dressed. When I press the button on one of my fobs, the lights to my special edition Bugatti flicker on. It’s a beautiful shiny black with accented green tones to match the Brewer’s team colors.
“This is what we’re taking?” Giselle laughs. “Aren’t you afraid your precious car might get nicked?”
“I figured you needed to experience Betty yourself. You know, she was deeply offended when you called her ugly and stupid.” I pout playfully, and Giselle doubles over in a fit of laughter.