Fortunately for me, I have more than enough confidence. At least Mia Lopez does.
Southfall Hotel. 7pm to meet, function at 7:30. Money on arrival. Receptionist Rachel is expecting you.
I nod once and throw my cell back on my bed to get ready. I know the Southfall well. I’ve been there several times before as a paid date. The functions are held in the largest room, and you have to be somebody to get in there. It’s one of the most exclusive hotels in the city.
I fix my dark hair to the side, letting curls fall over my shoulder, and slip my feet into some brown heels. Diamond earrings glitter in my lobes, and after a coat of lipstick, I tuck it into my purse.
I climb into the waiting cab and stretch out my legs. A lick of nervousness flares inside me. Not knowing the client’s name before a date is always unnerving—especially when they’re a last-minute hire. Usually I have time to research them, even if it’s only basic details. Tonight, I have thirty minutes to know everything about my client and the company he’s taking over.
That alone is worth my rate and a half.
I pay the driver and step into the Seattle evening. The Southfall is right on Elliot Bay, and the gentle breeze from the water wraps around me, bathing me in comfort. I pause in my steps to glance at the boats lined up, remembering a time when my father’s bobbed along there.
I shake my head. There’s no time to be Dayton tonight. If I’m being paid, I’m Mia. Dayton has no place in this high-class world of deception and pleasure. She’s too pajamas-and-ice-cream for this shit.
The doorman opens the door for me. My heels click on the marble floor as I approach the reception desk.
“Can I help you?” The receptionist looks up, and I glance at her nametag. Rachel. Perfect.
“Yes. I’m here for the function this evening.”
“It’s on the second floor, ma’am. The South ballroom.”
I place my hands on the counter, twenty dollars poking out from beneath my pinky finger. Her eyes find it.
“I’m here for the function.”
“Ah, yes. Of course. Excuse me, Ms. Lopez.” She picks up the phone. “Ms. Lopez has arrived. Please take her to the reserved private booth in the bar.”
Two seconds later, a boy no older than nineteen steps next to me. “If you’d follow me, Ms. Lopez.”
“Thank you, Rachel.” I shake her hand, mine coming away empty, and follow the young boy.
Money gets you everywhere in this world, and for me, it’s almost like my calling card. I show you green, you know who I am and why I’m here. I show you green, you shut the f**k up and be discreet.
“Ms. Lopez.” He pulls a curtain to the side slightly.
“Thank you.” I pass him a ten as he leaves and turn into the booth.
I pull the curtains shut behind me, and just like that, Mia gives way to Dayton, because I look into a pair of eyes I haven’t seen for seven years. Disbelief and shock ricochet through my body.
It can’t be. It’s not possible.
But my gaze follows the shapely, stubbled jaw and pink lips of the man I fell in love with one beautiful summer in Paris seven years ago. Before everything went wrong.
“Aaron?”
Chapter Two
My body jolts as if it’s been struck by lightning when his eyes rise from his hands resting on the table and connect with mine. I can barely breathe, and through the skipping of my heart, I’m consumed with a longing I haven’t felt in years.
His blue eyes slowly trace every part of my face, his own disbelief as evident as mine must be. Finally, they come to rest on mine, and he stands slowly.
“Dayton?”
“What…” I put a hand to my chest. “You’re my client?”
Aaron motions for me to sit, lowering himself down when I do so. “You’re my date? I hired a Mia Lopez?”
“Mia is my working name,” I say quietly. “Being an escort is a double life.”
“I can’t believe this.” He pushes a button and a waiter appears. “A bottle of Pinot Gris. Two glasses,” he orders, the guy disappearing quickly. Neither of us speaks again until he returns and places the tray on the table.
My heart pounds as Aaron pours two glasses. In the five years I’ve done this, since escorting became my life, I’ve never had a client I know. I’ve never had to worry about anything other than getting the job done. Now, sitting in front of Aaron Stone, I know this job is anything but simple.
I drain my glass as a brown envelope appears on the table. Taking it silently and slipping it into my purse is the single most awkward moment of my life. Aaron pours me another glass.
“Thank you.”
“This was unexpected.”
“Ya think?” I raise an eyebrow. “I can’t say I’m in the habit of having a previous personal relationship with my clients.”
And what a relationship we had. Six weeks filled with fun, kisses, and endless passion in the city of love.
“I’d imagine not.” He pauses, dropping his eyes to the table before bringing them back to mine. “Can I ask why?”
“Why what?”
“Why you do this?”
“That’s a bit personal.”
“Dayton, I’ve seen every inch of your body. Don’t f**k around and tell me it’s too personal.”
“You’re my client,” I remind him, sitting up straight. “Our past is irrelevant here. You’re paying me to do a job, and I’m going to do it. No personal details. Tell me what I need to know so I don’t look like a complete idiot when I’m out there tonight.”
He clenches his jaw and reaches up to adjust his tie. “Dad has decided to step back from the company, and this is one of many events designed to introduce me to the people I’ll be working with when I take over in just under two months.”
“The modeling agency?”
“We branched into advertising and rebranded the summer after Paris. It went global three years ago, and now there are offices in Australia and Europe as well as here.”
“Impressive. And you needed a date because?”
“Because if I turned up alone, the vultures would get me.”
My lips twist. “The vultures?”
“The daughters of my mother’s friends. They’re single.”
“And you’re the perfect target. Nice to know I’m hired to be a buffer.”
“I’m sure Mia Lopez is used to it.”
“Oh, she is. But we both know there’s not a chance in hell I’ll get away with being Mia tonight.”