Page 162 of Elite Connections: an LGBTQ Romance Charity Anthology

Fuck.Fuckitty fucking fuckering fuck.

I was fully prepared for the heartbreak. So prepared. But I was bracing for it in six months. Not now. Not so soon.

Dammit.

And to top it all off, my life as an escort is probably over, which doesn’t matter much when I have millions in my bank account. A whole fresh batch of them, actually, as my phone so kindly informed me yesterday. It was the six-month milestone, after all. And instead of celebrating our half-year anniversary…

I can’t believe Madelyn caused all this mess. I can’t believe she ruined everything. Because it has to be her. It could be no one else. Or, well, I guess I could be, but it’s what makes the most sense, considering her pestering every time I visit my queen.

I just thought she was a nosy busybody with a crush on the billionaire Instagrammer. I never thought she’d stoop this low, but it doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.

But no. She went and ruined the best thing that’s ever happened to me, although maybe I should be thankful to her—or whoever spilled the beans. Maybe they’ve saved me from an even bigger heartbreak. Maybe I should send them a basket.

I somehow manage to drag myself out of bed and make my way to the living room to turn the TV on. I only want the music channels. Just some noise that can drown out the one in my head, but, of course, the fucking thing turns on to the Spotlight Entertainment Channel, and they’ve got a live report of their breaking story.

Fuck my life.

“We’re outside the Cinderfella Incorporated offices, and it looks like Keaton Sinclair has just arrived. Stay tuned for live reports and more updates.”

I don’t want to stay tuned, but I think we all know I’m going to.

With every passing movement report during the live feed, he slips further away from me. I’m cold and sweaty… How the fuck is that possible?

God, I so was not prepared for this. I had a plan for how to deal with the oncoming heartbreak when the contract neared its end. How I would pull away slowly, cease any physical contact with him, stop anything that would risk shattering my heart. Basically, the way real relationships start falling apart.

But this…

It’s like someone put their hand right through my chest and yanked my heart out.

I thought I had more time with him. I really did.

“Meow.” Princess climbs in my lap and curls up. Her purring machine begins almost instantly, and as she warms my body with her heat, I shed the tears I’ve been holding since I woke up.

Keaton fills my TV screen as the camera zooms in on him getting out of his town car when my phone rings.

I almost jump out of my own body. Princess runs away, and I pull it out of my back pocket to find Gracie’s name greeting me.

“Hey, Gracie. This is not the best time…”

“I know, sweetie. I follow the news.”

“Then you know I can’t talk?—”

“I’ve got a job for you.”

I sigh.

Who would want to hire me right now in the middle of this shitstorm?

“Do they know I’m a celebrity?”

Gracie sighs back.

“It’s a good one. I swear. Do you want me to send it through?”

I look at the TV as Keaton walks through the Cinderfella building doors, turning his back to the cameras and the hounds with the microphones.

“Sure. Send it.” Maybe I need a good job to distract me from this whole-ass mess.

I doubt it, but hey, I don’t have to accept it.

Gracie drops the call and five seconds later—I counted—I get a text message.

Gracie: Contract offer: high-value client looking for a partner in crime and in life to spend forever with.

Duties: Cuddles daily. Kisses hourly. Loving when the need arises.

Pay: Free.

Then, another message pops up before I even have a chance to finish reading.

Gracie: Do you accept?

This…

It can’t be Keaton, right?

No, it most certainly can’t be.

He…he wants to spend forever with me?