Page 15 of Playboy For Hire

First of all, Heartbreakers Anonymous didn’t have anywhere toleavea review, and even if we had, Dana and Mason were clear that we had the right to turn down any client for any reason. Sure, they wanted to maintain a reputation for professionalism, but that wasn’t what was driving me.

Quinn just looked so, well, helpless. Maybe it was the set of his shoulders, or something in his voice, but it was like he believed he had a permanent ‘kick me’ sign taped to his back. Like his world was a series of unending banana peels appearing in his path.

I barely knew the guy, but I didn’t want to be one more person who let him down.

“Honestly, I’d welcome the opportunity to broaden my horizons,” I said. “I’ve only worked with female clients up ‘til now, but having experience with more types of clients would actually be a help to me.”

Quinn’s nose wrinkled. “I’m sure you mean well, but I need a fake boyfriend, not just a random date. I need someone who canlook comfortable around me. Not so freaked out that I’m a guy that he can’t even look at me without flinching.”

“Did I flinch?” I asked, not thrilled with how high my voice had just gone.

“Well, not literally, but—”

“If I did, I didn’t mean to,” I said, rushing on before he could finish. “It’s just, you startled me, is all. But I swear, I’m not bothered by the idea. I have gay friends. I’m not weird about it, I promise.”

Quinn frowned.

“I’ll give you a discount,” I said, sliding my hand even closer to his on the table. “Seven-fifty, instead of a thousand.

His frown deepened. “Are you serious?”

“Twenty-five percent off, you can’t ask for better than that.”

Even my math-challenged brain could figure out that percentage on the fly. I wasn’t actually sure I had the power to offer a discount, officially, but even if I had to give Quinn two hundred fifty bucks from my own pocket on Friday night, I didn’t mind.

“Come on, what do you say?”

“I say that sounds crazy. And that I’m still not sure this is a good idea. But I’ll also admit that I’m desperate, so… yeah, what the hell. It’s still probably better than showing up by myself.”

I laughed. “What a glowing recommendation.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“No, no, it’s fine. I’m just kidding. Honestly, I’ve heard worse.” Maybe not from potential dates, but from other people in my life? Way worse. “Anyway, now that you’ve agreed, let’s talk details. Tell me about your family, and what Friday night will be like.”

As Quinn talked, I took notes on my phone about each of his relatives, their names and descriptions, personalities and family history. I was especially interested in his parents, wondering if they were the ones putting pressure on him to bring a date. But weirdly, he seemed more uptight talking about his aunts, uncles, and cousins than he did about his nuclear family.

“And then there’s my great aunt, Althea,” he said. “Auntie Thea. She lives here in DC—one of my few relatives who still does—at a senior living facility. She’s almost eighty-four, and she uses a wheelchair, but she can move like an Olympic gymnast when she wants to, and she’s sharper than a—” he paused, searching for a word “—well, sharper than something very sharp, anyway.”

“A knife?” I suggested. “A rusty nail? The prow of an old shipwreck, preserved in the icy waters of the North Atlantic?”

“I think I was looking fortack. Are shipwrecks really that sharp?”

“They are if they’re jagged and broken from where they smashed up on the rocks surrounding Newfoundland, with only the souls of the dead and shoals of cod to keep them company.”

Quinn laughed, a bright bubble of sound that was warmer than I expected. “I guess I’ll have to take your word for it.”

My heart thumped in my chest, and I shook my head, trying to calm it down. I must still have been worked up over the email I’d been reading when Quinn arrived. But I could think aboutthat email, and my future, and all my other problems later. Right now, I needed to focus on the man in front of me.

“Okay, so I should watch out for Auntie Thea, because if anyone can figure out I’m not your real boyfriend, it’ll be her.”

“What? Oh, no, no. That’s not it at all.” Quinn waved his hand. “Auntie Thea is the one who recommended you. Kind of. Her friend is the one who actually knew about your company, through some family connection. No, Thea’s the only one who will actually know the truth.”

“Ah, okay. So we don’t have to worry about her.” I gave him another agreeable smile.

“Well, I wouldn’t put it past her to try to trip you up, just for the sheer pleasure of causing chaos, but hopefully, no.”

We spent another half hour hammering out the details of our cover story. It turned out I was five years younger than Quinn, but we decided to age me up a couple of years from twenty-two to twenty-four. We’d met this past fall in a bocce league and started talking when I kicked his ass in one particularly brutal game.

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