Page 6 of His Weekend Girl
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“I’m sorry, you’re not going to sit here and tell me Prince had the better discography between him and MJ?” Grant chuckled and waved a hand of dismissal.
“And why not?” Trixie defended as she chewed on a French fry. “I can listen to Prince all day.”
“But have you heard his music without his famous backing bands?” Grant questioned and Trixie’s eyes downcast. “Yeah, it sucks!”
“Hey now!” She smiled and he raised a brow. “Future Baby Mama is a good song!”
“It’s a great song.” He agreed. “It’s also a few and far between good songs when he didn’t have a backing band!”
Over dinner, Trixie and Grant discovered more about each other. She found out he was the oldest of two brothers and was seemingly the heir to the McGinnis fortune. He found out she was the youngest of four siblings, and the only one who still lived in California.
He was a fan of Lana Del Rey while she loved 90’s R&B and hip-hop. They both found common ground in Garth Brooks and Willie Nelson.
As Trixie justified her love for trashy reality shows and horrible hood Tubi movies, Grant found her refreshing. There was something just so…realabout Trixie. He was used to the women who fawned over him, liking the things he liked, willing to change everything about themselves to be more palatable for him and his needs, and sounding oddly like the character fromComing to America. He was almost positive if he asked the women to bark like a dog while hopping on one foot, they would’ve done that as well.
It didn’t hurt that Trixie was one of the most attractive women he’d seen in a long while. Her hair brought out her almond-shaped eyes and drew attention to her full lips. Trixie’s outfit of hoodie and yoga pants barely contained the curvature of her body and perfect ass. Her deep brown skin tone made Grant wonder what she would look like underneath him, begging him to give her more of his cock.
“Grant?”
He blinked the image out of his head and smiled at Trixie. “Yes?”
“I was saying are you ready to go? It seems like you’re finished with your meal.” She thought about the next thing on her mind –unless you want to do something else, because that’s cool too.
“I have a question for you; well, it’s more like a proposition.” Grant began and leaned in more so no one else would hear their conversation. “I need to spend the weekend with my insufferable family and I most certainly don’t want to be alone with them. I’m willing to pay you an extraordinary amount of money for you to play the role of my girlfriend while I’m there.”
Trixie was old enough to know not all money was good, despite how much it would help her in the long run. Besides, she was never for sale no matter how broke and desperate.She would rather drive all day for an entire year than entertain Grant’s offer.
Then again, the In-N-Out meal was probably high on the food chain of expectations of her life and she felt incredibly somber thinking about it. “Girlfriend, huh?” Trixie looked at Grant. “This sounds veryPretty Woman-ish.”
Grant gave a half-smile at the acknowledgment. He couldn’t disagree. “There won’t be sex involved if you don’t want it,” he replied, and Trixie ignored the sudden heat between her legs. “I just want someone else other than my brother and his wife, their kids, and whoever else in that household who wants to pretend they love me so they can rinse my pockets.”
A few years ago, Trixie would’ve cursed Grant out and went about her way. Credit card debt, and getting used to the soft growl of a stomach that never gets enough food made Trixie at leastconsiderit. “How much are we talking?”
“One hundred thousand.”
“When is our flight?”
CHAPTER FIVE
“A HUNDRED THOUSAND dollars and you’re gettingflewedout? Girl, you should’ve bargained for at least 250K, my girl,” Trixie’s best friend, Amberswan Mitchell, commented as she helped her pack. She was a Black woman with many tattoos and hair colors. Yet, it all seemed rather flawless. She didn’t look like a Chipotle bag.
Her face was always beat with the finest department store and high-quality makeup, but she secretly loved L.A. Girl. While Trixie was conservative (in appearance, definitely not politics), and tried to keep a low profile whenever she could, Amberswan was a kooky, kitschy combination of charisma, and confidence with a side of witchcraft (after all, she was a practicing witch but loathed the term baby witch; she’d preferred novice witch for it gave her a bit more pedigree).
She was also the type of person who wanted to get the best ice cream in town – in another state. (If she was really feeling froggy – another country.)
While everyone went minimalist, Amberswan was determined to go maximalist. Her kitchen was always full of bold, chunky colors with splotches of gold, red, blue, green, and purple. She said she wanted to have her kitchen to feel like a utopia and not dread.
It was why Trixie loved Amberswan. She saw someone she wished she could be and lived vicariously through. It didn’t helpthat some of the adventures they went on were fun, even if they were a little stupid and dangerous.
Like the time Amberswan casually forgot to tell Trixie she’d laced their iced mochas with shrooms, and Trixie somehow ended up butt-naked on the lawn of an abandoned house. She was only grateful there were other naked people with her. When she asked Amberswan about it, Amberswan just looked at Trixie and shrugged. “But you had fun, right?”
Or the time Amberswan wanted to take Trixie to a new coffee shop but forgot to tell her it was BDSM-themed. One could order a latte and a spanking at the same time. At leastthatone was fun.
Amberswan shook her head. “And another 250K for taking you away from doing absolutely nothing in your life.”
“I knowyouwould have,” Trixie wasn’t sure if she packed the right things. Toiletries, underwear, jeans, bras, and a T-shirt for every day she would be at the family estate. She wasn’t sure why she even agreed to such a prosperous thing. She couldn’t have been that desperate for money.
