Page 47 of The Billionaire's Wake-up-call Girl

She downs her wine and pours another glass. “You have to re-enact it. Play both parts. You call. You’re lying in bed.”

“I’m not doing a one-woman show of my almost-phone-sex wake-up call with my boss for you.”

“A true friend would.”

I toss a peanut shell at her.

“You have to,” she says. “At least help me understand how it segued from ‘you’re such an asshole’ to…” She looks at me hard. She wants at least a line or two.

I cross my arms and stare up at the cracked ceiling.

“Come on!” she says.

I’m not one to kiss and tell, but I can give her something tiny. “First of all,” I say, “he has this really rumbly voice. Like it wraps around you. Soft and gritty.” I’m suddenly imagining his whiskers sliding along my cheek, my chest.

“Wet sandpaper.”

“Yeah. Or else maybe extremely unforgiving velvet ribbon.”

“Guh,” she says hoarsely. She gestures impatiently for more. “Dude, I had a hard day at work. I need this.”

“One of the early highlights: I called him a jackalope.”

She straightens up. “This is already delicious.”

“Then he wants to know what I’m wearing.”

“Ooh. A time-honored classic.”

“I was like, seriously?”

“I’m rolling with this completely. Did you tell him what you were wearing?”

“He had guesses. And he was all stern and assholey, but in a good way. And suddenly…we’re all sexytimes. So there you go.”

“Wait, that’s all I get? What are you wearing and then it’s all sexytimes and that’s that? No, no, no, no, no. I need details.”

“Sorry, sister.”

“Noooo!” She clutches my sleeve. “One fun highlight.”

I sigh.

“Please?”

I fix her with a saucy stare. Mia appreciates a little drama. “‘You are such a pig!’ I say to him. And then he goes, ‘Oh, I am. An utter animal. Sex with me is a dirty, savage affair. Utterly uncivilized. It’s the opposite of civilized.’”

She pantomimes falling off her chair, and then promptly begs for more.

“That was your one and only snippet.” I fast-forward to the drama of the office and me putting up the Craigslist ad and linking it to a sea turtles charity through PayPal. How he emailed and I rebuffed him.

“You’re like a secret agent.”

“A secret agent who needs her sign-on bonus.”

She rocks back in her chair. “And now he wants you all to himself. His sexy wake-up-call girl. Nobody else gets her! He will search the ends of the earth for her.”

“Let’s hope not. It was totally entitled and pushy of him to be calling my wake-up agency. Sasha is looking for an excuse to fire me, but does he even consider that? If it was a real wake-up-call service, what would that look like? I mean, it would look utterly fishy. Yes, he’s hot, but he’s so oblivious to what other people are going through.”

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