Holiday Escort Read Free

will be home by seven. Cook something you think I'll like." She slid some cash to me. "You'll need to go grocery shopping. Keep receipts. I'll expect a proper report." I nodded. "You'll need to arrange storage for most of your things, but I expect you to move in today with your entire wardrobe. Is that a problem?"
    "No." I paused. "Tell me about the types of foods you like."
    We talked for a while longer, then it was time to go. We walked back to her office building together; my car was in the underground parking below her building. We entered the building together and she pulled me to the side. "Madeline," she said. "Thank you." She paused. "The first event is Saturday evening."
    After that we stared at each other for a full minute , neither one of us quite sure what the goodbye protocol was . "Um."
    "I know," she said. "Awkward."
    I hugged her. She hugged back.

Settling In
    I drove to the bank and deposited the check then went home to my apartment. What a weird job. I decided I was going to like Karen. I imagined myself as a lesbian, trying to really fill the role she was looking to fill. I had to admit, if what she wanted was a 1950's wife for a permanent girlfriend, that wouldn't have bee n me. I like d having a real job.
    I changed clothes then went digging through the online yellow pages. I looked up storage centers and called several, then called one back and made arrangements over the phone. I had paperwork to sign, but I had a place reserved that was big enough for my things. Then I called the moving company I'd previously arranged and told them they'd be taking my things to the storage center instead of home. They were coming Thursday morning, the day after tomorrow.
    I called Mom. "Hey, Mom." I told her about the job.
    "This sounds very strange. Are you sure she is on the up and up?"
    "She's a lawyer, Mom. So probably not."
    She laughed.
    "I'll be fine. I'm calling to let you know I won't be moving in right away. I hope you aren't upset. She's paying me a lot and maybe it will lead to some good contacts. "
    Most of my stuff was already boxed and ready to go. My clothes were already in suit cases and garment bags. I had borrowed from my parents and had managed to stuff almost everything into the bags I owned or borrowed. I had a couple of large garbage bags for sweaters and other things that wouldn't wrinkle. I carried or rolled everything down to my car, taking several trips, then made a trip through the apartment, looking for things I would need. I grabbed my laptop and a few other things and locked up.
    Karen lived in Plymouth, an upscale, outer ring suburb of Minneapolis. I punched her address into my phone, reviewed the route, and began working my way there. On the way, I thought about the job.
    I thought about being what was effectively her servant but decided it wasn't really any different than being her personal assistant. I'd be doing a lot of the things I'd done for Marsha over the years. And she was paying me a lot of money to do it.
    As for being her fake girlfriend, I wasn't so sure how I felt about that, but I would figure it out.
    Things were looking up.
    * * *
    Karen's house wasn't quite a McMansion , but close enough. From the street it looked like a large, two story house with a three- story garage. But it had a walk out basement, which means in back, it was a monolithic structure extending three floors above the ground. The yard, like all the yards in late November, was grey, but she had extensive landscaping done, and I bet the yard was stunning in the summer months.
    I pulled up in front of the garage then wondered; which side does Karen want me to use to park my car? I got out and used the code to open the door and considered my choices. The garage door opener worked the large, two-car door. The third stall, the one to the furthest left, had no opener, but that stall was consumed by the accoutrements of yard care . I decided to park in the center stall, pulling as far to the left as I could,