Page 18 of His Weekend Girl
“Renting a woman for three thousand a night wasn’t worth it anymore. Most of the time I didn’t even kiss them, let alone have sex with them. They were only there just so the press could get off my ass about what happened.”
Rex agreed. “Nothing like Page Six making your personal life their primary news source.” He took another swig of beer. “I still remember the headlines about Charlotte –Runaway Bride! The relationship isn’t so sweet! The candy-coated love affair is officially over!Every fucking candy pun they could make, they did. They should’ve been shut down for that alone.”
“Well, if I get my way, they will be,” Grant promised.
Rex snickered. “Planning on dominating the world like your Pops?”
“Doing something that some of these other yahoos wish they did,” Grant countered, “not trying to own the world but enacting revenge is always satisfying.”
“I hear that! And not to mention everyone owes you big time for—” Rex stopped when he saw Trixie.
Grant looked at his friend. Rex rarely found himself dumbfounded. He was notoriously known for always saying something inappropriate. At least the quality made him great at funerals. “What’s got you star-struck? Someone had too much cham—” He turned around and stopped talking when he saw Trixie. “…pagne.”
“Yeah, she’ll be someone’s pain tonight.” Rex took a handkerchief and wiped his brow. “There is a God because ho-lee fuck, my dude!”
In seemingly slow motion, Trixie appeared in a haze. If Grant wanted to be honest, it was akin to Moses dividing the Red Sea. Every step she made, the other guests turned to see who she was. The yellow, flowery sun dress was almost obscenely short, coming down to mid-thigh. She wore her hair in an upward pouf on top of her head with pearl earrings. She completed the look with light makeup and high heels.
She was a goddess in walking motion and Grant blinked several times to see if she was real. She made a bee-line towards Grant and greeted him with a kiss. On his cheek. “There you are.” She smiled. “Did I miss much?”
“Not. At. All.” Grant wrapped his arm around her waist. He nuzzled against her neck and kissed it. “You are so damn delicious right now.”
Trixie felt a thud in her panties and she cleared her throat. No. She was not going to fall in love with a man who was using her. “Stop it.”
Grant placed a soft kiss against Trixie’s neck and she moaned in appreciation. He wanted to hear her moan again. “For now.”
“This must be the woman who finally made Grant settle down!” Rex held out a hand. “I’m Rex Steele, owner and co-founder of So Iconic fashion.”
“Oh yes, I’ve heard of you!” Trixie acknowledged. “I have a lot of your clothing in my closet.”
“You do?” Rex’s eyes twinkled. “Say, would you be interested in becoming a model slash ambassador for us? We’re always looking for new faces.”
“I’m sure we can work something out.” She decided to pivot over to Grant. “Grant could help with the logistics.”
Grant winked at Trixie. “I’ll make sure you won’t get screwed and you’ll get properly paid.”
“Love a man who looks out for his woman’s best interest,” Rex gave a slight nod, “rare to see that nowadays.” He noticed from his peripheral, that his wife Erica, Charlotte, and a few of their friends were walking towards them. “And here comes the bullshit.”
Trixie felt her body tense up but soon relaxed. She was with Grant, but she also knew he couldn’t protect her the entire weekend. She needed to hold her own; this was a perfect opportunity. “They’re about to indoctrinate me, aren’t they?”
Grant turned to Trixie and leaned in to kiss her. He felt her body relax against him as she opened her mouth for him to go deeper. His tongue played with hers and he sucked her on her tongue.
Every piston fired off in Trixie’s body. She wanted to stay angry at Grant. She wanted to show him that she too, can be unemotional and just transactional like he was. And then he kissed her and that plan was completely thrown out of the window.
Now there was she – making out with a man she still didn’t know that well, on his family’s massive estate, and being paid close to a million dollars to play his fiancée. Trixie then realized she had to get out of her head. If things progressed, she might be getting out of her panties later.
Grant pulled back and caressed her lips with his thumb. “Never let your captors take you to the second location,” he whispered to her.
CHAPTER TWELVE
SHE WAS IN front of a firing squad. Instead of weapons, however, the women used their thinly veiled insults and small jabs as bullets.
As Trixie carefully answered question after question, she could recognize the frenemy attitudes from afar. The words flowed like honey but had a scorpion’s sting. A smile that never reached their eyes but instead bared gritted teeth behind perfect red or pink lipstick. No other colors.
It didn’t matter if the women were blonde, brunette, redhead, white, Black, Latina, or Asian. It didn’t matter what backgrounds they were from, though Trixie suspected the higher the income level, the bitchier the attitude. No, poor and broke women didn’t have time to fuss when they needed to eat and survive.
As Trixie politely gathered at a table, she already knew every woman’s story as told to her by Grant.
First up, was Molly Whitaker. She was a tried and true trust fund baby who, just like the other ladies, never knew what struggle was. She was a dirty blonde, with an equally dirty tan, and loved to show off her name-brand designer.
