Into The Fire (Gorgeous Entourage #1) Page 2

  “Like what?” I asked.

  “How about you come to the company and work there?” Mom asked. “You could move up and eventually take it over.”

  “But I don’t care about software,” I answered. “I never have.”

  Mom fidgeted with the fancy bracelet on her wrist. “And owning a tattoo shop is something you care about?”

  “Yeah.” What was the big deal? “I like inking. I enjoy it. I always have.”

  Mom eyed the ink on my arms with disdain. “You need to make better choices in your life. Owning a tattoo shop isn’t a good way to start.”

  “And doing a job I hate will be?” I asked incredulously. “Don’t you want me to do what I love?” I never understood them.

  “Of course we do,” Dad said. “But we don’t think this is the best way to go about it.”

  My anger was starting to bubble and I was struggling to keep it back. I gripped the table because I wanted to flip it over. “It’s not my problem you don’t agree with my life choices. This is who I am and I’m never going to change.”

  Silence fell in the room. Mom eyed Dad, and he eyed her back.

  “We’re tired of having to explain your behavior to other people,” Mom said.

  “Then don’t,” I said. “Who cares what they think?”

  “It hurts our image,” Dad said. “It would be much easier for us if you—”

  “Easier for you?” I asked. “It would be much easier for me if I didn’t have to deal with this bullshit all the time. Just pay back the loan I gave you and we can stop having this conversation.”

  Mom pushed her tea away like she might throw it at me. “We’re still taking the heat from when you went to jail.”

  I rolled my eyes. Not this again. “Look, I got a little out of control and—”

  “You had sex with some woman in an alleyway,” Dad snapped. “People still bring it up.”

  “I didn’t know that cop was there, okay?” I said. “I didn’t want to go to jail or get a public indecency misdemeanor.”

  “This is what we’re talking about,” Mom said. “You make bad decisions and don’t think about anyone but yourself.”

  “You should try it,” I said coldly. “You’d be a lot happier that way.”

  Mom threw her arms down. “Ash, we aren’t giving you that money until you clean up your act.”

  Shit just got real. “You’re joking, right? I gave you that money so you wouldn’t lose your house. I didn’t have to help you but I did because you’re my parents. And now you aren’t going to give it back to me until you can control me like a damn puppet?”

  “Don’t cuss,” Mom ordered.

  “This is fucking unbelievable. How do you sleep at night?”

  “We will give you back the money,” Dad said. “We just want you to clean up a little bit.”

  “Clean up how?” I demanded. “I’m not on drugs.”

  “You’re almost thirty years old and you’ve never brought a girl around,” Mom said. “Why don’t you focus on settling down and finding a family?”

  “Maybe because I don’t want to.” I wasn’t boyfriend material and knew I never would be. “My personal life is totally irrelevant to this conversation. Just give me back the money I loaned you. If I could get a loan, I wouldn’t bother with you. But I don’t have a choice.”

  “Exactly,” Mom said. “This is a blessing. Now you can finally get your act together.”

  I wanted to scream. “I served three tours in Afghanistan. If that doesn’t make you proud, I don’t know what will.”

  They both had guilty looks on their faces.

  “You only did that to spite us,” Mom said.

  “And you think I won’t do it again?” I challenged.

  “That’s not funny,” Dad said.

  “I wasn’t trying to be.”

  Mom changed the subject. “This is how it’s going to be. Make a few changes and we’ll pay back the loan.”

  I couldn’t believe I was at their mercy like this. I felt emasculated and weak. I never put up with someone’s bullshit but I didn’t have any other option. As soon as I got my money, I wouldn’t have to deal with their shit anymore. And I would never help them again, even if they asked. “Like what?” I ground my teeth together as I spoke.

  “Find a nice girl and settle down.”

  “What the hell is that going to do?” I demanded. “What does it matter if I have sex with one girl or twenty?”

  Mom cringed at my crude words. “Because when you find the right girl, you’ll grow up.”

  “You think if I get a girlfriend, I’ll suddenly change my mind about the shop?”

  “Yes,” Mom said seriously. “You’ll realize you can’t raise a family with that kind of reputation. You’ll open your eyes and grow up. And you’ll thank us for it.”

  “So, if I get a girlfriend, you’ll pay back the loan?” That wasn’t adding up. “As soon as I get the money, I’ll open the shop anyway.”

  “When we see you fall in love with her, we’ll hand over the money,” Mom said. “And then you can do whatever the hell you want—and we know you won’t open that shop.”

  I was already anti-girlfriend but I definitely wouldn’t be with someone who didn’t accept me for who I was. So, their plan was stupid. But I didn’t see any way around it. If I just did as they asked, I’d get their money and pursue my dream. Then I wouldn’t be at their mercy like this. I could finally do what I wanted.

  “Fine,” I said. “We have a deal.”

  Dad visibly relaxed now that the fight was over.

  “And it better be a nice girl,” Mom said. “No one with ink and that crap.”

  God, my parents were judgmental. “Fine. Whatever. But you need to give me your word that you’ll return my money.” I leaned forward and looked her in the eye. “I’m not agreeing to this unless you do.”

  She nodded. “I promise, Ash.”

  I turned to my dad and waited for his pledge.

  “Yes, Son. We’ll keep our word.”

  ***

  “How’d it go?” Sawyer asked when I walked into his apartment.

  “I’ll give you the short version of the long version,” I said as I grabbed a beer from the fridge. “If I get a serious girlfriend, they’ll give me the money.”

  He was sitting on the couch watching TV. The game faded to the background as he turned to me. “Wait…what? What does that have to do with anything?”

  “They know they can’t get me to change so they think a serious girlfriend might have some magic up her sleeve.”

  “Dude, your parents are lame.” He took a drink of his beer.

  “My parents are shitheads. They already disliked me when I started inking, but they really started hating me after I was in jail for three days. In their eyes, I can’t do anything right. Honestly, I wouldn’t give a damn if they didn’t have my money.”

  “Well, getting a girlfriend should be easy enough for you.”

  My eyebrows furrowed as I sat on the couch. “How do you figure? I’ve never had a girlfriend before.”

  “But it won’t be hard to get one.” He eyed his watch. “You could get one before midnight if you really wanted to.”

  “Well, I know that,” I said before I took a drink. “But I don’t want one. What do you do with them anyway?”

  He shrugged. “Talk to them?”

  “See, I don’t like to talk.”

  “Take them out to dinner?”

  “But then I’d have to talk to them for an entire meal. Shit, I don’t have that much to talk about.”

  “Have sex with them?”

  “Well, I’m down with that. But I can’t have sex with the same person more than a few times. It grows stale like bread that’s been left out too long.”

  “Then what are you going to do?”

  I shrugged. “I’m not going to waste some girl’s time by pretending to actually like her. That would be fucked up. And how could I get a girl to go along with it unless th
ere was something in it for her?” I searched my brain for an answer but was drawing a blank.

  Sawyer did the same. He sipped his beer and watched the game. Then he snapped his fingers as an idea came to him. “Hire someone.”

  I shot him a glare. “I’m not paying a prostitute.” I’m not a judgmental person. People could do whatever they wanted. But I wasn’t resorting to that.

  “No, hire an escort.”

  “Isn’t that the same thing?”

  “No. A buddy of mine did it because his ex went to the same wedding as he did. He just paid some chick to be his date and she played the part. Apparently, his ex was super jealous…something like that.”

  That was an interesting idea. “So, you just pay them to be there?”

  “Yep.”

  “And that’s it?” It sounded too good to be true.

  “Well, they have rules and stuff…I don’t know the specifics.”

  “How do I find this place? Do you have the number?”

  “I’ll ask him for it.” He pulled out his phone and sent a text. “Oh, and the chick was really hot. At least that’s what he said.”

  “Like, how hot?”

  “Like, he beat off to her in the shower hot.”

  I nodded with an awed look on my face. “Damn, that is hot.”

  “I know. I kinda want to rent one just for fun.”

  “Do they…do other things?” Not that I would ever pay for sex.

  “I’m not sure but I think they don’t. But they’re expensive, a lot more expensive than a whore.”

  “Interesting…”

  His phone lit up with a response. “It’s called Beautiful Entourage.” He handed me the phone. “There’s the number.”

  “Thanks.” I typed it in my phone.

  “Are you really going to do it?” he asked. “It’s pretty lame if you have to pay for a date.”

  “But it would be worse if I used a girl like that. Women can get so clingy sometimes. It’s fucking annoying. If this is a business transaction, there shouldn’t be any issues.”

  “Good way to think about it.”

  I put the phone in my pocket. “I’ll call tomorrow.”

  “Good luck.”

  ***

  Beautiful Entourage was damn hard to find. There was a Chinese place near the sidewalk, and the smell of chow mein made me hungry. A part of me wished the place was inside the restaurant so I could get some lunch.

  When I finally realized the place was in the rear, I walked inside and stared at the hardwood floors, gray walls with white trimming, and the elegant white furniture of the lobby.

  Damn, this place was nice.

  “Can I help you?” A girl was playing solitaire on her desk.

  I walked further inside. “This is Beautiful Entourage, right?”

  “You found the right place.” Her eyes dilated when she looked me up and down, clearly liking what she saw.

  Yeah, yeah, I’m hot. I know. “Great. So…how does this work?”

  “I’m more than happy to explain.” She cleared her desk of the cards then pulled out some paperwork. “We assist clients with dates for various reasons. But you need to understand this isn’t a dating service, and it’s not a hookup service. Our only job is to play a part for you.”

  “Okay.” So far so good.

  “We have very strict rules, and if you choose to break them, you’ll be terminated from our contract and we’ll also pursue legal action. This is not a joke.”

  “Okay…” Pursue legal action for what?

  “Now to the fun part.” She turned to her computer and started clicking with her mouse. “What’s your type?”

  “I prefer my coffee black.”

  She smiled. “No, your type of woman. Blonde? Brunette?”

  “Oh.” Whoops. “I don’t care.”

  “Tall or short?”

  I was six foot three so I doubted a girl would be taller than me. “Don’t care.”

  “What about—”

  “Sweetheart, let me save you some time. I don’t care.”

  “You’re easy…” She kept working on her computer before she printed something out. “Payment is due up front and there are no refunds. You’ll meet with Alessandra on Friday at the coffee shop just on the corner.”

  “Alessandra?”

  “She will be your escort.”

  “Is that her real name?” I asked. “Because that’s hot.”

  She grinned. “You can ask her yourself.” She handed the papers over. “I just need you to sign here and here.”

  I grabbed the pen and added my signatures.

  “The meeting at the coffee shop is complimentary so don’t worry about that.”

  “A coffee date with a hot chick named Alessandra? Sweet deal.”

  She chuckled. “Have a good time. I can promise you’ll like her.”

  I bet I would.

  Alessandra

  I got to the coffee shop early and sipped my coffee. I had so many of these meetings that they blurred together. It was easy to forget names and faces. I knew this guy’s name was Ash, and apparently he was hot.

  Lucky me.

  My clients were hardly ever cute. If they were, what would they need my services for? But I did enjoy my job because it was fulfilling. I helped people get through difficult times. I was even friends with some of them.

  The door opened and a tall man walked inside. He wore dark jeans that hung low on his hips and a dark green t-shirt. He had wide shoulders that reminded me of a soldier, and his chest looked broad and powerful. He was more than just fit. He looked extremely athletic, like a marine or something.

  He had dark brown hair and fair skin. His eyes were blue like the ocean, and they were endless in their depth.

  Damn, he was hot.

  His arms were covered in sleeves of tattoos. Instead of being all black ink, there were various colors. Green, orange, and blue were prominent colors, and they were highlighted under the fluorescent lights.

  There was no way he was my client. That would be a dream come true.

  He looked around the shop like he was searching for something—or someone.

  I opened the folder and flipped through the pages until I found a copy of his driver’s license.

  Shit, it was him.

  There was no way he was straight. He must need me to pose as his girlfriend to his family or something. I’d done gigs like that before.

  I stood up and gave him a quick wave. “Ash?”

  His gaze focused on me, and those blue eyes seemed even brighter. Approval was in his look as he approached me. He carried himself like he owned the room and everyone in it. His appearance was intimidating. I’d never seen someone so beautiful in my life. The tattoos just made him a million times sexier.

  Get a grip.

  He approached me and extended his hand. “Ash.”

  “Alessandra.” I took it, and my hand felt petite in comparison to his. The skin was warm but calloused like he used his hands all the time.

  “That’s a hot name.”

  “Thanks…” I’d never gotten a compliment like that so I was a little flustered. “Ash is cool too.” God, why did I say that?

  He sat down, and his torso completely blocked the chair.

  I was normally the confident one but now I was a little shaky. This guy was too beautiful to be true. He had to be gay. The hot ones were always gay. “So…how can I help you?”

  He shrugged. “I need a girlfriend so my parents will get off my ass. That’s where you come in.”

  “Are you gay?” Ugh, why did I ask it like that? It was so abrupt and harsh.

  “No…” He narrowed his eyes on my face. “How the hell did I give you that impression? I checked out your rack the second I walked in the door. And when you turn around, I’m going to check out your ass.”

  He did? I didn’t even notice. And a comment like that would normally result in a slap across the face. But he somehow pulled it off without sounding like a perverted sle
azebag. “I just…” Think of something intelligent to say. “Guys like you don’t normally need to pay for a date…unless they’re gay and need a fake girlfriend.”

  “Oh, I get it.” He leaned back in the chair and rested one hand on the table. “Nope. I’m definitely straight.” His eyes moved down to my chest before he looked me in the eye again. Then he winked.

  I should feel violated but I didn’t. “Okay…what do you need me to do?”

  “Just act like my girlfriend when I’m around my family. That’s it. Nothing complicated.”

  “But why do you need me?”

  He rolled his eyes like the question irritated him. “It’s a really long story, but basically my parents owe me money but they won’t give it to me unless I have a serious girlfriend.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I couldn’t agree more, sweetheart.”

  “Why do they owe you money?”

  “They have a software company and it took a bad turn when this competitor got big. My parents needed the cash for a prototype so I lent it to them. Five years later, I still haven’t gotten it back even though their company is making bank. They don’t approve of my lifestyle and my interests. I need the money to open up my own shop, but I can’t get a loan because my credit is terrible. So, I have to play by their rules or kiss my dream goodbye.”

  That sounded complicated. “What kind of shop?”

  He presented both of his arms. “Tattoo shop.” Every inch of his skin was covered with ink. There were different images, like a ladder that led to nowhere, song lyrics, and a Hawaiian flower. “My parents think I’m a worthless loser. And perhaps they’re right. But I don’t care. I need to get this shop open. I’m tired of working for someone else.”

  I replayed his story in my head. “That’s just wrong.”

  “What?” He returned his arms to his sides. “My ink?”

  “No, that your parents are controlling. You helped them out when you didn’t have to and this is how they treat you?” I’d struggle to smile in their presence.

  He rolled his eyes. “They’re lame. I know.”

  “Why don’t you sue them?”

  He chuckled. “That would cause more headaches. And money. They could afford a much better lawyer than I could. If I just play their stupid game, I’ll get my money. Then they can kiss my ass.”