Chapter 3 Callie
Five months ago—
“I need to talk to you,” Sadie announced as I answered her incoming call, annoyed as I noted the time was nearly eleven p.m., and I just finished a grueling shift at work.
Waitressing wasn’t what I wanted to do for the rest of my life, but it paid the bills while I found a real job and began my career.
I’d earned a business degree and graduated over three months ago, but I still hadn’t found a job in my field.
“It’s late, Sadie. What’s going on?”
I should have been more patient. Tired and rubbing my aching feet as I collapsed against the mattress in my bedroom, I stifled a groan. I needed a shower and sleep.
“Hey, it’s important. Seriously.”
She said that every time we spoke. Always a new gig or drama or bullshit.
If my older sister wasn’t such a mess, I wouldn’t be hesitating. Only two years and five days separated us.
Sometimes I felt decades older. As the responsible sister, I always kept my nose clean and avoided breaking the rules. Never had a speeding ticket or paid my rent late. I worked my ass off to be a good citizen and make my parents proud.
Sadie had been picked up for everything from prostitution to petty theft.
She was a bit of a kleptomaniac and enjoyed being the life of the party.
I didn’t think there was a single drug out there she hadn’t tried, although I knew she enjoyed ecstasy the most. Far too impulsive, she rarely thought through the consequences of her actions until it was too late.
None of this changed the fact that I loved my sister.
She had a good heart and believed the best in people until they proved otherwise.
She was a glass-half-full kind of personality.
Driven by an unforeseen motor, she was always on the go.
Sadie was diagnosed with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, or ADHD at age seven.
She’d been medicated for it since, but I doubted she regularly remembered to take the pills she needed.
“Could we talk tomorrow?” I stifled a yawn, resisting the urge to close my eyes. That shower wasn’t happening until morning now because I wouldn’t have any energy left once my conversation with Sadie ended.
“Callie.”
Her desperate, worried tone caught my attention, and I sat up. “Tell me what’s happening.”
“I-I think someone is trying to,” she paused and swallowed loudly, “kill me.”
“Shit.”
“Exactly.”
“Come over right now. I’ll put on a pot of coffee.”
“I’m already outside your door. Open up!”
Scrambling to my feet, I held onto the phone as I sprinted into the hallway, down the stairs, and to the back door of my townhome.
Flinging open the door, I found my sister shivering and soaked from the heavy downpour outside.
Pulling her in, I slammed the door shut behind her and flipped every lock. “Jesus. Get undressed. I’ll bring you some dry clothes.”
Sadie’s slim figure shivered as she peeled off her black cocktail dress.
The material clung to every inch of her body, molding her hourglass figure.
She had legs a mile long and kicked off her strappy four-inch heels, ringing out the wet strands of her hair over the kitchen sink as I returned with a towel, oversized tee shirt, black leggings, and warm socks.
In true Sadie style, she stripped without a single glance in my direction. She’d never been ashamed of her body or being naked, which hadn’t changed over the years. If anything, she grew bolder. That could explain her current profession—professional escort.
Of course, if I had her figure, I’d flaunt it too.
Sadie took after our father’s side of the family.
Tall, slender, athletic, and perfectly flawless skin that always looked kissed by the sun.
Me? I followed after our mother—fuller hips and thighs, round ass, and bigger breasts.
I didn’t hate my body by any means, but I sometimes wished I had her toned, flat stomach and height.
Wistfully, I set to work brewing a pot of strong coffee. The past had proved nights like this with Sadie would be lengthy. I needed the caffeine, or I’d fall asleep upright in my chair.
“Tell me you have Cinnabon creamer.” Her long dark hair hung in loose waves over her shoulders as I turned, ticking my chin at the fridge.
“Of course. I’m not a Neanderthal.”
Sadie snorted, whipping open the fridge. She pulled out the container of Cinnabon creamer and popped open the top.
Inhaling, she smiled. “Smells just like a fresh cinnamon roll with cream cheese icing.”
“Our favorite,” I agreed.
After passing a mug her way, I filled mine most of the way with coffee, adding enough creamer to change the color.
Sadie had already poured a generous amount of the creamer into her cup, nearly filling the mug halfway before adding coffee. Some things never changed. I couldn’t help snickering at the obscene amount of the Cinnabon concoction she used.
Years ago, when we used to live together and both attended college, we’d wake up every morning like this and share a pot before classes began. That was before she dropped out to pursue her acting career, as short-lived as it was.
My sister sat beside me in one of the four wooden chairs surrounding my tiny square dining room table. We both sipped on the coffee, gaining the boost we’d need for the heavy conversation I knew would be difficult to hear.
“Remember when we used to do this every morning?”
“I was just thinking about it,” I admitted, giving her a warm smile. “Some of my best memories. Just the two of us.”
“Yeah. Good times.” Her smile faltered a little. “I’m sorry I didn’t stick around.”
“Hey, I know. You don’t have to apologize.”
“But I want to, sis. You know staying in one place too long isn’t easy for me. I get antsy.”
“I think that’s putting it mildly,” I agreed.
She smirked at that comment. “The thing is, I tend to get lost sometimes.” She paused, staring at my kitchen with a frown. “When did you paint the walls this lemon-yellow color?”
Perfect example.
“Six months ago.”
“Damn. I guess I didn’t notice.”
She did on her last visit but didn’t remember.
“Well, it’s not important.”
Sadie shook her head. “No, it’s not.” She sighed softly, lifting her head to meet my curious gaze. “Do you remember when I told you I had a lot of important customers as my clientele?”
“At the DOLL Agency?” One of the more discreet escort companies in the Las Vegas area, the DOLL Agency offered companions to wealthy, high-profile clients. Men like politicians and CEOs of Fortune 500 companies who relished showing up to events and ritzy clubs with beautiful women on their arms.
I hated that my sister chose this profession because I knew for a fact that these men wanted more than a pretty face by their side for a few hours in public.
These men had specific sexual appetites and solicited sex even if it was illegal.
The thing was, prostitution was legal in ten of Nevada’s seventeen counties.
They could pick up women whenever they wanted, but these men wanted the model-perfect figures and dazzling beauties the DOLL Agency boasted among their employees.
My sister was a glorified prostitute, but she didn’t see it that way.
Sadie had more money in the bank than anyone I knew.
The perks of her job were obvious—an expensive apartment in a secure building overlooking the city lights in Las Vegas with clear panes of glass exposing every breathtaking detail, more diamonds and jewelry than a Tiffany & Co retailer, a bright blue Corvette, and the luxury to sleep in every day, stopping for a manicure, pedicure, and any other spa service she wanted any day of the week.
Even with all those amenities, I couldn’t sleep with a man I didn’t have a connection with and felt some affection for. It wasn’t in my nature. Maybe Sadie could separate herself from that part of the business easier than I could. As far as I knew, she’d been an escort for three years and loved it.
“I sent you some money.”
Narrowing my eyes, I shook my head. “Sadie,” I began.
“I know what you’re gonna say. You always say the same thing. Doesn’t matter. I need you to take it.”
“Why?” I asked, suspicious of her innocent expression.
“So I know you’re taken care of. Don’t fight me on this. It’s already in your PayPal account. Refuse it, and I’ll keep sending you more.”
Ugh. “I’m not a charity case, Sadie.”
“No. You’re my sister, and I want to know that you’re okay when I’m not around. You don’t have enough food in your pantry or fridge.”
What did she do? Scope it out when I wasn’t paying attention?
I picked up my phone, opened my PayPal account, and gasped when I saw the amount. My sister had sent me twenty-five thousand dollars. What. The. Hell.
“I can’t accept this.”
“You will,” she replied firmly. “Pay off that car and stop stressing about your rent. Now you’ve got time to find a job you want instead of waitressing and relying on tips to get by.”
Shit. I bit my lip, trying not to cry. “Sadie. This is too much.”
“It’s nothing to me. I want you to take it. It’ll give you a whole year to figure out what you want to do and find the right job for your career.”
She was right. Eighteen thousand would pay my rent for a year, and another three would pay off my car. That left four for food and utilities, and that’s if I stopped working or didn’t do anything else on the side.
“You’re going to make me cry,” I finally blurted, blinking as a few tears escaped. “Thank you.”
She reached over and hugged me. “You worked your ass off for that degree. I want you to be happy, Callie. You deserve it.”
Hugging her back, I squeezed a little too tight. “I love you, sis.”
“Love you too, more than anything.”
I leaned back, swiping under my eyes to get rid of the tears. “So, tell me what’s going on.”
Sadie held the mug in two hands, taking a long sip before she set the cup down. “Mayor Elliot Goodman has become one of my regular clients, and he’s . . . clingy.”
Blink. Blink. “The Henderson Mayor? Like where we live?”