Final Call (The Call #2) Read Free

over her shoulder.
    “Call me when you have
a job for me. But I’m not fucking anyone yet. Escorting only.”
    “You’re coming back to
work?”
    My lips curve to one
side. “Someone has to pay for your crap.”
    “Just answer the
fucking phone this time, all right?”
    She leaves, and I lean
back against the counter again.
    Five grand to keep a
secret.
    I shouldn’t be
surprised. He paid enough to keep me. It’s just a fucking shame it
wasn’t quite enough to keep me there.
    Money can keep
something, but it can’t guarantee it. You’d think he’d know that.
He has enough to throw around.
     
    ***
     
    I need some control
back in my life.
    That’s my problem.
Since Aaron came back into my life, it’s spiraled so crazily out of
control that I can barely put my panties on the right way. Now,
with the last few weeks all said and done, I can untangle them and
get back to my life.
    The way it should be.
Focused. Controlled. Planned.
    I ignore the niggling
empty feeling in the pit of my stomach as I roll my stockings up my
legs, the lace tops hiding just beneath the hem of my dress. Six
knocks drift up the stairs to me in Liv’s signature knock. Tap tap.
Tap tap. Tap tap. The sound is followed by her opening the door and
yelling up at me.
    It’s not my preferred
method of control, admittedly, but when your best friend insists
that a night out will cure your blues, you go along with it. Well,
you do if your best friend is like mine.
    It’s easier to do what
she wants and save myself the headache.
    Liv stops in the
doorway and runs her blue-green eyes over my body. I pause, my
fingers still looped under the lace on my thigh, and raise my
eyebrows at her.
    “That dress is too
long.”
    “Excuse me?”
    She rolls her eyes like
I’m a petulant toddler. “The dress. It’s too long.”
    “There’s nothing wrong
with my dress.” I smooth it over my legs. “Less is more, you
know.”
    “More material won’t
get you laid, you know.”
    I stand and grab my
lipstick. “I’m not trying to get laid, Liv. I’m trying to get over
him.”
    “And getting under
someone is the best way to get over someone else.”
    “Did your mind get
swapped with a teen boy at some stage of your life?”
    She smacks her pink
lips together and grins. “No. While you were fucking for work, I
was fucking for fun. I learned more than a few things after
I broke up with Ross.”
    Ah, the boyfriend she
only kept around for his finesse in the bedroom.
    “I’m sure I’m aware of
all the things you’ve learned.” My tone is dry, and I drop the
lipstick into my makeup bag. “Look, I just want to relax tonight.
No guys, no getting laid, nothing.”
    “Fine. But you’re
missing out.”
    “I’m sure.” I grab my
bag and follow her out to the waiting cab. Liv directs him to the
wine bar where she works, our usual first stop, and settles back in
the seat.
    Night is falling as we
head into the center of the city, and the bright lights from the
skyline drown it out. A golden tone climbs into the inky blue, both
colors fighting in the sky for their space. They collide in a
gorgeous pinky-purple band that stretches out before me, providing
an illuminating backdrop for the buildings that reach high up.
    I wriggle my toes
inside my shoes. I want to go home, change into some pajamas, and
eat ice cream. Even if my ass is feeling the numerous tubs over the
last week or so.
    No, I tell
myself. I’m not doing that anymore—being a whiny teenage girl over
something she couldn’t help. Something she couldn’t stop. I’m going
to be the strong, independent woman I am.
    After all, a man can’t
make me, so there’s no reason to let him break me either.
    Mental pep talk done, I
follow Liv into the bar and to our usual table by the window. It
provides the perfect spot for people-watching, something I’ve found
myself doing a lot since we went to Italy, and it gives Liv the
perfect view of the door just in case a hot guy should walk
through.
    Our