Page 17

I’m offering the Girlfriend Experience to a married man.
Maybe I’ve become too sensitive for this job since my breakup or bitter after my ex ghosted me when I needed him the most.
The silence in the back of the limo is deafening, and to someone with anxiety, uncomfortable silence isitchy. My skin burns from it, and my thoughts play tricks on me.
“Regarding the ring…am I pretending to be your wife tonight?” My tone is subdued, but no matter how hard I try, it doesn’t hide my self-consciousness. “I must have missed that in the contract.”
“You’re a date,” he says, engrossed in his phone. “Nothing more.”
Ouch. His harshness has my heart rate skyrocketing and my stomach churning.
“Is she… Your wife… Is she dead?”
“Nope. She’s very much alive.” Not even a glance.
So much for the flirty banter.
The exciting atmosphere of only a few moments ago has soured. My mind is blown, and my doubts race toward dread with every second we get closer to the event.
How am I supposed to walk into this gala hanging from the arm of tall, dark, and dissatisfied with my infamous ex in the same room?
I need to set my emotions aside and salvage this date. It’s literally my job and my only source of financial support. I’ve spent every dime I saved from my former client and can no longer live off my roommate.
I’m twenty-one. It’s a gala, and I’m wearing a sexy black dress. This is supposed to be fun. Exciting. I can do this. Ihaveto do this.
The limo comes to a halt, marking our arrival. The door swings open, and the bustling sounds of downtown LA shatter the silence.
My nervous excitement takes over.
Ethan steps out of the vehicle and offers his hand to assist me. His fingers envelop mine, and, to my shock, he doesn’t release me. My heart stops, only to start up again ten times faster when our eyes meet, and I’m struck by the familiar vulnerability mirrored in his gaze.
I force myself to look away and move my feet.
Well-dressed hockey executives and players make their way on the red carpet, posing for photos with their dates. Some are known faces, although I hardly recognize them outside their uniform and gear.
One person I don’t see is my ex, and a momentary sense of relief washes over me.
Then, I remember every player must attend the Children’s Charity Gala, and my stomach plummets, along with my newfound courage.
Warm fingers tighten around mine, as if Ethan can read my anxious thoughts. I give him an appreciative smile, and he offers a reassuring wink.
Maybe tonight won’t be a disaster.
FIVE
ETHAN
My agent insistedon booking me an escort, arguing it’d be a majorfaux pasto show up in LA without a glamorous woman on my arm.Everyone does it, he claimed.West Coast girls are the hottest in the world.
He has a flair for the dramatic.
Still, Aurora exceeded all my expectations. She’s absolutely stunning.
We entered the event, and all eyes were on us, or I should say, onher. In a panic, I steered away from the crowd and directly to our designated table. Once again, she glanced at me with disappointment, her cheeks reddened, after I skipped all the photographers. I’m positive she believes I dislike her.
But no, I’m just a secretive asshole.
In our semi-private booth, waiting for the main course, I struggle to find the words to ease her mind. I haven’t been on a date in years, not even with my supposed wife. It has been over six years since I had a meaningful conversation with an attractive woman.