April (Calendar Girl #4) Read online

Page 6


  “Will do. I’ve got to go practice the new routine. Let me know how the event goes and don’t forget my reward!”

  I shook my head. “Hey skank, I love you, and I’m proud of you for laying off the cancer sticks. Want to keep you in my life so that we can grow old, get a bunch of cats and a beach house together.”

  “I always loved cats.” Gin said wistfully, her voice petering off.

  She totally set me up for it. “That’s because you love pussy!” I howled and then hung up on her before she could get in a retort. “Ah, all is right in the world,” I opened my eyes and came face to face with a stricken Rachel.

  “Are you being blackmailed?” her eyes were as wide as milk saucers.

  I laughed out loud and shook my head. “No, that was Gin my best friend. We’re always like that.”

  “You always threaten each other and call one another foul names?” her voice was screeching and I didn’t understand why.

  “Uh yeah? Don’t you with your best friend?”

  She shook her head numbly. “No. No, I do not. We say very nice things to one another, do lunch, and shop together.”

  I cringed. They shopped together. Yikes. That is not something Gin and I did together. Drink beer, check out hot guys, gamble a little, play cards, go to concerts, yes, shopping…er no. “Sucks to be you,” I said, meaning every word of it.

  “Somehow I doubt that.” She said flippantly, and I grinned. So she had a little fire in her yet. That was good. Mason would light a fire under her so bright she’d get burned if she didn’t have a little of her own to battle it.

  ***

  Rachel was not excited about the auctioning men idea, but Mason thought it was brilliant. He called each guy on his team and came back with commitments from over twenty players that were available this weekend and willing to be auctioned off to the highest bidder, and take their clothes off, well their shirts, for charity. I found pink suspenders for each guy to wear and asked them all to wear a nice suit. The plan was to have the men remove their jackets, shirts, and be left with the suspenders. I was also planning on painting a pink breast cancer ribbon over each man’s chest directly above his heart to keep with the theme.

  Once Mason got home, he sat down at the table with Rachel and me and brainstormed other ideas while he grilled steaks on the balcony, and I made the side fixings. Together, we came up with tons of ideas to get the word out in such short notice along with ways to get his Dad and brothers involved, too, since this was ultimately a way for them to honor their mother’s memory. I told him to have his Dad get a picture of his wife that he loved blown up and framed for use on one of the tables. The other players that had family members they’d lost to the disease would also share images of their loved ones so the donors in attendance would know the real reason behind the event.

  We made certain the chapter president of the local Breast Cancer Awareness group would be there and could say a few words.

  “Mia, Rachel, I gotta hand it to you ladies, you’re the bomb at planning a last minute event.” Mason grinned and hugged my shoulder then kissed my cheek. He went over to Rachel who stiffened the moment he moved close.

  Mason’s voice got low, but I could still hear him. “I’m sorry about what you saw last week. It shouldn’t have happened. That’s not the kind of guy I want to be.” He looked deeply into her big blue eyes and she nodded but didn’t respond. He moved close, inhaled against her hairline, and then kissed her cheek. “Thank you for your help with this. You didn’t have to pull all those strings.”

  Rachel lifted her head and blinked, staring prettily into Mason’s gaze. Could it be any more obvious how into one another these two were? I needed to up my game and get things moving in the right direction. “Mason, I’d help you with anything,” she said in an equally low tone.

  His fingers tunneled into the hair at the nape of her neck, his big hand cupped her jaw, and his thumb swept across her bottom lip. She gasped and I watched with rapt attention, hoping he’d make the move and kiss her. “What you’re doing to help my Mom, it means a lot. I won’t forget it. You need me, Rach, I’m there. Just call, anytime, anywhere. Got it?” he said then leaned forward and kissed her forehead as if she was something precious.

  Right then, it dawned on me. To Mason, she was just that…precious. For him, Rachel wasn’t like all the other girls. He felt he needed to treat her with kid gloves, touch her as though she were spun glass or a fragile artifact. Wow. Once those two hooked up, that was going to be it for him. He might have been a player, but I think he saw a future in her eyes, one he desperately wanted, but didn’t know how to capture. Good thing I was here for another two weeks to make sure he got the girl.

  “I do, Mace,” she said then smiled as he pulled back and went to the balcony to tend to the steaks.

  I put my head in my hand and waited until he was gone. Rachel watched his every move as he left. “So, smitten much?” I said, waggling my eyebrows.

  Her head shot back to mine and she narrowed her gaze. “I have no idea what you mean. Last week I was drunk and out of line. I may have given you the wrong impression about my feelings toward my client.” She stressed the word client, but I wasn’t sure if it was for my benefit or hers.

  I tilted my head to the side and took a long sip of beer. “You aren’t fooling me and you definitely are not fooling Mace. He’s on to you honey. And soon, he’ll be on you,” I snickered at my own joke.

  Rachel groaned and shook her head. “You need to stop, Mia. If you haven’t forgotten, you are his girlfriend.”

  “Pretend girlfriend and honey, let’s not forget that. I’m doing a job. The fans love him; we’re working on a fundraiser that will only do good for Mason’s image professionally but more so it’s good for him to do personally. Giving back in honor of his Mom. He really loved her and misses her a lot. All the Murphy men do. You helping the way you are proves that you care and not just about Mason’s image. You have more than a little crush. Admit it,” I dug the last shot in and sat back.

  Rachel licked her lips and bit down into the bottom one. She leaned her head forward and nodded. “Fine. I admit it. I’ve cared for Mason for a long time. Heck, I think I fell in love with him the moment we met two years ago. But that hasn’t changed the fact that I’ve watched him parade around with women, drink like a fish, and spent a lot of my own time picking up those pieces. Doing that changes your opinion of someone.”

  “It can, it does.” I agreed with her. “But obviously it hasn’t changed the way you feel or you wouldn’t be doing what you’re doing. You wouldn’t have volunteered to help him clean up his act. You genuinely care about him and you’re breaking at the seams trying to hide it. I’ve seen the way you look at him, how you light up when he enters a room. You’re not fooling me. You may have been fooling him the last two years, honey; but his blinders are off. He sees you and he likes what he sees.”

  Her delicate hands came up to her face and she ran them over her features. “How can you be sure? I don’t want to be the next up in a long line of throwaway women. I’d rather not have him at all and get to be in his life always, than have a taste of him and lose him forever when he wakes up and realizes I’m not the type of girl he likes. If you look at his track record, you’d know I’m not.” She points at me, my curves and makes a circular gesture. “No offense, women like you are his type. Buxom, beautiful, sexy, all the things a man like him can get time and time again.” She sighed and dropped her head into her hand with finality.

  “Sweetheart, I’m not the type of girl you marry. I’m the type of girl you flirt with and fuck. Mason doesn’t want to settle for a girl like me. He wants to have what his Dad had. A wife, a home, children, the whole enchilada. You’d give him that and more. You’re the whole package. Not an escort who’s talented at waiting tables, can act, and rocks a man’s world in the bedroom. That last one I’m pretty proud of, but it isn’t going to secure me Mr. Right, just Mr. Right Now. I think you need to be open to more with Mason, e
specially since I’ll be out of your hair in two weeks.”

  This time when she responded, she pursed her lips and leaned into the table. “If you were me, how would you go about making a move? Especially after last weekend’s attempt was a complete and utter fail.”

  “Last week did suck a box of rocks.” I nodded.

  “It wasn’t the only thing that was sucked,” she quipped.

  My mouth dropped open in shock. “You made a sex joke!” I laughed.

  Her own eyes widened and her cheeks pinked up. “I did!”

  “There’s hope for you yet!” I exclaimed, and we both giggled. “Seriously though, Mason’s pretty easy.”

  “Isn’t that the truth?” Her retort came right on the heels of the last one and blew me away.

  I shook my head and covered my mouth. “Two in one night. Bust out the calendar, girl we need to mark this night off as the night Ms. Professional lost her poise and busted out her inner vixen!”

  She looked over at the balcony then calmed down. “I want to know though. I don’t have a lot of experience with approaching men when I want to you know…” she trailed off.

  “Fuck?” I guessed.

  “God! No. Well, yeah, but date is what I meant. Jeez, you’re just like him. So crass.” Holy hell. Was she right? Was I just like Mason? Nah, she’s just overly prim and proper. At least, that’s what I told myself to get past the potential truth in her statement.

  Pushing my hair back into a twist and clipping it up with the claw I had dangling from the hem of my tank top, I cinched it into the bulk of the locks. “This is what you’re going to do. At the charity event this weekend, you’ll have a couple glasses of champagne to loosen up. You’ll flirt a little with him all night. Nothing impressive, you know, little touches here,” I slide my hand from the ball of her shoulder down to her elbow then pull back. “Maybe some hand clutching.” I clasped my hand with hers and proceeded to tug her to standing and walk around the living room. I’d stop, cock a hip, and bat my eyelashes at her then look away suddenly. “Make sure you give him some glances at your assets.”

  At the word “assets” Rachel’s lips pinched tight. “I don’t really have any assets.” She mumbled.

  I looked at her as if she’d grown a second head. “Girl, every woman has part of herself that attracts the opposite sex.” I looked her up and down. “You’ve got a serious set of legs. Wear something short. Get a nice push up bra and lift those girls and make sure a good glimpse of them is available in the dress you choose.” She nodded, so I continued. “Oh, and hair down. Remember how he mentioned he would like to see your hair down? Have it styled soft and in big curls to cascade down your back. If the dress has an open back, even better,” I waggled my eyes for emphasis.

  “Why?” she asked and I wanted to groan and smack her upside the head. Could she possibly be that naïve when it came to men? The woman was in her early twenties for crying out loud. She had to have some idea how a man thought.

  Instead of telling her all this, I just answer. “Because when men see open bare skin they think of sex. Thinking of sex and you in the same thought is a good thing when you want to ultimately bed Mace.”

  “I want to be with Mason, not just um, go to bed with him.”

  This time I couldn’t control the exasperated breath of air that left my lungs. “Men relate good sex with good times they could have with a good woman. Having a great sex life and being someone Mason wants to spend time with outside of the bedroom works in your favor. Though usually men think of the sex first. It’s just an animal instinct. So you got it all? You’re going to seduce Mason at the party this weekend?” I asked, giddy beyond reason.

  “I’ll think about it,” she said.

  I scowled but understood there was no moving this girl any faster. She had a way about her, and I think after a few days of thinking about it and building up her courage, she’d make the right choice. “Promise?” I encouraged.

  She smiled wide and it was true, her smile could light a dark room. “Promise.”

  Mason entered the room then and shut the balcony door with one long limb and a push of his foot. “Are the two most beautiful women in all the world hungry or what?”

  I shook my head. “Always a player,” I laughed and this time, Rachel did, too. I would have expected a sour expression not a chuckle.

  Progress was good.

  Chapter 6

  Entering the swanky hotel venue for tonight’s Think Pink event had both Mason and me stunned. Pink balloons covered the entire ceiling, lighting reflected pink breast cancer ribbons and our new tagline “Think Pink” was splayed all over the pitch black walls. A disco ball swirled around shooting specks of white light in every direction. Soon, the guys would show and the doors would open. Waiters were receiving their instructions off in the corner. All of them wearing a pink t-shirt with our theme, and the girls were wearing a tank top that said “Save the Ta Ta’s” over their breasts. It was crass, it was fun, and it was a ball player’s type event.

  Mason and I however, were dressed to the nines. He in a pristine black suit and a pink button up, the pink suspenders I asked every player to wear and a tie that had breast cancers ribbons all over it made him look like the professional he needed to be. His coppery brown hair was slicked back and his green eyes were dancing all over the place taking in the venue. High top tables with black cloths adorned with pink roses bunched into the center and tea lights glinting off their petals sat on each surface setting the mood. It was beautiful, classy, young and yet still hip.

  “Mia…” his voice trailed off, clearly taking it all in and loving everything he saw. I beamed with pride. My first charity event looked amazing. Of course, it had a lot to do with the striking blonde that was walking our way. I thought I looked good in a hot pink cocktail gown, sequins catching the light and twinkling like the ball above our heads. Not even close. Rachel made her way from the back of the room. She wore a soft pink satin strapless number that came down to her knee but had a slit up to the hip giving the ultimate sex appeal with a sweetheart neckline that showed off her breasts. Her hair was down in the old Hollywood fashion style they wore back in the day. A shock of bright red lipstick topped her full lips. A fine line of black coal liner, gave the perfect cat-eye to her baby blues. I did not expect her to look the way she did. She was a pin-up girl slash classy dame.

  Mason stood in silence, watching her approach. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were blazing hot. He’d never looked at me like that before. That steamy gaze was all for the tall blonde who made me feel positively whoreish in my flashy attire compared to her elegance.

  “You guys look fantastic,” she cooed when she made it to us.

  Mason looked her up and down, grabbed her by the waist, cupped her cheeks, and looked deeply into her eyes. She didn’t say a word, just allowed him to manhandle her and I knew why. Because it was alpha, it was smokin’ hot, and when a man like Mace grabbed you and handled you that way, you just took it and thanked the mighty Heaven’s that it was happening.

  “You look fucking beautiful,” he said, his eyes searching hers. “Every man here is going to want you.”

  “There’s only one man I want,” she responded with full confidence. If I wasn’t trying to shrink into the dark room and away from the duo, I would have high-fived her for that line. It was forward and pure sex; I’d give her props later.

  “Is that right? Anyone I know,” he traced her face with his nose. She physically trembled in his arms. I almost felt the movement in my own body. It was like watching a steamy foreign film live; only I knew what the characters were saying.

  She licked her lips and Mason’s eyes traced the movement. She so had him hook, line, and sinker. The man was a goner! “Maybe. I guess we’ll have to see how tonight goes,” she whispered so close to his mouth, he had to feel her breath against his own lips.

  “Well, save a dance for me, eh?”

  Rachel smiled a secret smile only for Mason. “I’ll have to check my
dance card. Make sure it’s not already full.”

  “There’s room for me. I’ll make room.” He smirked and she leaned into him and then pushed away slowly. He allowed it, but I wasn’t sure if the room got hotter or if it was just the heat these two were pushing off one another.

  A bunch of the players arrived wearing much the same thing that Mason had on, suits, button ups, and pink galore. It was awesome. I couldn’t wait to find out how the auction would go. Thinking of auctions, I grabbed Rachel’s hand and led her over to the table where a wide variety of things were set out for silent bidding. Really expensive bottles of wine, memberships to clubs, trips, cruises, vacation rentals, you name it, it was on the silent auction table.

  “So you invited the who’s who right?”

  Rachel picked up a clipboard and nodded. “Yep, we have four hundred people confirmed RSVPs for tonight’s event, all that make seven figures a year.”

  “Damn, I didn’t think there were that many rich people in the world.”

  “Well, we’re dealing with celebrities, sports figures, team owners, sponsors and the like. We’ve got a lot of organizations coming just to get the face time so they’ll make a donation to look good and keep their in with the players and other investors involved. It’s a vicious circle when it comes to people, business, and their money. They like to show it off under the auspice of giving it back.”

  “I don’t care much how they do it or why, just as long as we leave here tonight donating a lot to the cause. Do you think we’ll make at least fifty to a hundred thousand?”

  At that comment, Rachel tipped her head back and laughed. Laughed so hard she had to put the tips of her fingers to her tear ducts to staunch the flow and not mess up her makeup. “Mia, if we don’t make a million tonight I’d be shocked.”

  One million dollars. In a night. I’m working every day as an escort to rich dudes to make a million to pay back my father’s debt to his loan shark and we might make that much in an evening. “Unbelievable,” I gasped.

 

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