Chapter Four #2
Bailey sniffed. “Give me some credit. A couple of the girls were talking about how bad dating apps are while I was doing a cut and color, and my client said that was why sex workers were a much better option—no time wasted on duds, satisfaction guaranteed. She said it like a joke, but when I was rinsing her out I asked if she was serious. She gave me this guy’s info, said I could use her name as a reference. ”
“So?” Gwen prodded. “What do you think?”
Chloe looked back at the screen, where those bright green eyes glowed. “I don’t know. What about guy number two?”
Bailey shrugged. “He probably has friends, colleagues he can tap for that.”
Chloe bit her lip. She couldn’t deny the idea had appeal—as did the undeniably sexy Sawyer. Still… “I don’t know.”
“Why not?” Bailey asked. “It’s safer than apps, and with a professional you won’t have to worry about any of the messy stuff.”
“Messy stuff?”
“Yeah, you know. Feelings and shit.”
“I think she means the expectations and boundaries would be clear,” Gwen clarified.
“That’s what I said.”
“It’s a good idea,” Chloe said, “messy stuff aside.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I still can’t afford it.”
“You haven’t even seen his rates yet,” Bailey protested.
“Well, unless he charges the state minimum wage, it’s a safe bet.” Chloe reluctantly handed the phone back. “Besides, I’d have to pay for two, and I really can’t afford that.”
“We’ll cover it.”
Chloe stared at Bailey. “What?”
“We’ll cover it,” Bailey repeated. “Gwen and I.”
“You can’t afford it either,” Chloe protested, then paused. “Can you?”
Bailey shrugged. “I’ve got some money socked away for a rainy day.”
“So do I,” Gwen put in. “Besides, I won’t have a rent payment soon.”
Chloe perked up. “You’re taking the job?”
“Of course I’m taking the job. I’d be silly not to.”
Chloe leapt up and flung herself across the sofa to smother Gwen in a hug. “We’re going to be neighbors again!”
“Don’t spill my coffee!” Gwen cautioned, holding the to-go cup aloft.
“My coffee,” Bailey reminded her sourly.
“Get over it,” Gwen advised.
“Can we get back to the topic at hand?” Bailey demanded.
Chloe sat back on the sofa with a wince and reached for the hook on her bra. “This fucking thing. I’m not taking your money.”
“What else am I going to spend it on?” Bailey wanted to know, and batted the bra away when Chloe flung it at her. “I have everything I need.”
“I was saving up for a deposit and first month’s rent on my own place.” Gwen sucked down the last of Bailey’s coffee. “I don’t need that anymore, so you might as well take it.”
“I’d never be able to pay you back,” Chloe protested.
“It’s a gift,” Bailey told her. “A birthday gift.”
Chloe shook her head. “I couldn’t.”
“You can.”
“I shouldn’t.”
Bailey held up the phone, where Sawyer’s green eyes sparkled. “You really should.”
Chloe stared at the image, indecision clawing at her. “It’s going to be a couple thousand dollars at least. You have that much?”
Gwen shrugged. “We can handle up to four. If we need more…”
“We’ll crowdfund the rest of it,” Bailey finished.
That startled a laugh out of Chloe. “What?”
“We’ll crowdfund it,” Bailey repeated, grinning. “People will love it. You’ll probably get enough money to fly to Paris and hire an entire soccer team to fuck you into a coma.”
“I don’t want a soccer team,” Chloe said faintly.
“I wouldn’t mind a soccer team,” Gwen mused.
Bailey grinned. “I knew you were a secret slut.”
“I’m really not,” Gwen sighed, sounding oddly forlorn, and got up from the sofa. She peeled off her coat and tossed it aside. “Where’s my breakfast sandwich?”
“On the counter,” Bailey said, frowning after her. She darted a glance at Chloe, a question in her eyes.
Chloe shrugged and mouthed I don’t know, watching Gwen shuffle across the room, pick up the sandwich, then shuffle back again. She sat back down on the sofa, unwrapped the paper, and took a bite before noticing her friends staring at her. “What?” she mumbled.
“Nothing.” Bailey cleared her throat and turned wide eyes on Chloe. “So? What’s the verdict?”
“I still don’t know,” Chloe hedged.
“Okay, look.” Bailey picked up her phone. “Let’s just fill out the screening questionnaire.”
“There’s a screening questionnaire?”
“Duh. The man is engaged in illegal activity, he has to make sure you’re not trying to bust him, rob him, or otherwise fuck him over.”
Chloe nodded, wondering when her life had gotten so surreal. “Sure, sure.”
“The referral from Julia will help,” Bailey assured her. “Once you pass that, you can set up a meet and greet.”
“A meet and greet?” Chloe echoed.
“It’s like a pre-date date,” Bailey explained. “An hour at a coffee shop, a bar, whatever, where you can meet and decide if you want to go for the full bang.”
Gwen choked, spraying biscuit crumbs.
“No pun intended,” Bailey said.
“Right,” Chloe muttered. “So I have to pass the screening before I can even, what, make an appointment?”
“That’s how it works. Safety first.”
Chloe shook her head. “I don’t know. This seems like an awful lot of trouble.”
“It’ll be worth it. Here.” Bailey passed over the phone. “Look over the questions while I make coffee.”
“I don’t have any,” Chloe said absently, taking the phone. She gave Sawyer’s picture a last, lingering look, then tapped the link for the questionnaire. “I’m trying to cut down.”
“Well, fuck. What do you have?”
“There’s tea in the cupboard above the fridge, and some Mountain Dew in the fridge.”
“Ugh.” Grimacing, Bailey got to her feet and gave Gwen a poke. “Get up and help me.”
“Why do I have to help?” Gwen complained.
“Because you drank all my coffee. The least you can do is help me make tea.”
“You woke me up at six-thirty,” Gwen groused, but hauled herself off the couch.
“Hey,” Bailey said when Gwen shuffled in the wrong direction. “The kitchen’s over here.”
“I need to pee,” Gwen said and shot a smirk over her shoulder on her way to the bathroom. “From all the coffee.”
“Bitch,” Bailey called after her.
Chloe listened with half an ear to Bailey banging around the kitchen while she looked over the screening questions. None of them seemed unreasonable, until she got to the requirement to upload a copy of her ID.
“I’m supposed to give this guy a copy of my driver’s license?”
Bailey set the kettle on the stove. “He has to verify you are who you say you are somehow.”
“Yeah, but my driver’s license? That doesn’t feel safe.”
“You upload it to watch porn,” Bailey pointed out.
“Fair point,” Chloe decided. “Why does he want all my social media accounts?”
“I asked Julia that.” Bailey pulled a box of Earl Grey from the cupboard. “She said it’s another verification tool. If someone doesn’t have an online presence, they’re probably using an alias.”
“Well, my Instagram is all pictures of jewelry, so I’m not sure what he’s going to get out of it.”
“Maybe he’ll buy a pair of earrings for his wife. Or girlfriend. Or whoever.”
“Yeah, ’cuz that wouldn’t be weird at all.”
Gwen stepped out of the bathroom. “What are we talking about?” she began.
“Selling earrings to sex workers,” Chloe said.
Gwen nodded. “Sure, sure.”
“Get over here and make the tea,” Bailey demanded.
“Nag, nag, nag,” Gwen said, then turned at the knock on the door. “Expecting company?”
“Shit.” Chloe tossed the phone aside and dove for the discarded bra. “Don’t open it!”
“Why? Who is it?”
“Three guesses,” Bailey said, grinning when Chloe stripped off her shirt. “I’ll give you a thousand dollars right now if you answer the door like that.”
“Shut up.” Chloe slid her arms into the straps, hooked the back, then bent forward to shimmy her tits into place. Dragging her T-shirt back over her head, she smoothed it down. “Am I okay?”
“You’re covered, if that’s what you mean,” Bailey said.
“You’re fine,” Gwen assured her. “Good cleavage, not too obvious.”
“Okay.” Taking a deep breath, Chloe nodded at Gwen. “Answer the door.”
“Does it say ‘butler’ on my resume?” Gwen wondered.
“Oh, shut up and answer it,” Bailey hissed. “I want a look at these guys.”
“On second thought.” Chloe started down the short hallway.
“No, you don’t.” Gwen planted a hand between her pushed-up tits and shoved. Chloe staggered back, and Gwen hurried toward the front door.
“Take a breath,” Bailey advised. “You’re going to hyperventilate.”
“I hate you,” Chloe whispered, then plastered a smile on her face as Gwen led a grinning Jesse down the hall.
“Sorry to bug you so early,” he began, his gaze flicking to Bailey. He nodded once, then turned back to Chloe. “Mo said to let you know when we started next door.”
“Oh. Okay.” Chloe tried not to notice how good he looked.
He wore a shirt with the sleeves ripped off, showing off rippling arms, and jeans that were so relaxed they looked like they might melt off him at any second.
The toolbelt hanging low on his hips dragged them down just enough to expose a tantalizing strip of flat, muscled belly.
His face was dark with dust and dirt, with a white ring around his nose and mouth where the mask, currently hanging around his neck, had protected him from the worst of the grime. There were small chunks of drywall in his hair, and sweat glistening on his skin.
She could’ve wrestled him to the floor and jumped his bones right there.
“We’re not doing much over there,” he was saying, oblivious to her rampaging hormones. “Just taking out the cabinets and tearing up that shit carpet. Shouldn’t be too noisy, but we wanted to let you know.”
“I appreciate it,” she said, somehow managing to keep her eyes on his face. He lifted one hand to scratch at the back of his neck, making his shirt ride up even further to expose his belly button, which was way sexier than it had a right to be.
Bailey gamely turned a gasp into a throat clearing cough, and jolted Chloe out of her happy-trail induced haze.
“Sorry. Um. These are my friends, Bailey and Gwen,” she said, gesturing. “This is Jesse Colson. He and his partner are doing the reno downstairs.”