January (Calendar Girl #1) Anthology Anthology Read Free Page A

to no time to see Dad, Maddy, or Ginelle.
    “Believe it little girl. This is not a joke. What your father, what your ex-boyfriend is doing has made this decision. You’re lucky I’m even making room for you. Don’t be an ingrate. Now sit down and shut up!” Her voice was completely devoid of its usual warmth having morphed into the cold, formal tone of a determined businesswoman.
    “I’m sorry.” She was trying to help me, but this was all so…sudden. Unbelievable. I slumped into the chair in front of her desk and let my head fall into my hands. Shaking it repeatedly did not change the outcome. I was now a girl for hire. Each month I’d be assigned a new man, and if I slept with them, I’d make twenty percent more in cash.
    I shook my head and laughed. The kind that proved I was bat-shit crazy. I leaned my head back onto the cool leather and looked up at the white ceiling. After a moment, a creeping resolve calmed me. This is what I had to do. So I let a sexy guy take me to boring business dinners and whatever else he had in mind. I didn’t have to sleep with them and, most importantly, there was no way I would fall in love. A new man each month wasn’t enough time to fall head over heels like I had in the past. Who says I have to give up my acting career? What better way to perfect my acting skill than by being whatever these men wanted me to be? Then, after the month was up, I’d be someone else and my dad would be safe. As long as I could get Blaine to agree to monthly payments, this could work.
    With a deep breath I stood and put out my hand to my aunt. Her smile was wicked, yet still sexy. She was very good at her job. “Alright, Ms. Milan ,” I emphasized her fake name so she’d understand my commitment. “Looks like I’m your new Calendar Girl.”
     

Chapter 2
     
    Weston Charles Channing, III. I stared at the name wondering why anyone would want to have a Roman numeral behind their name. I’d just bet he was a pretentious rich boy whose mommy didn’t want to be embarrassed by the Hollywood harlots he trotted to posh events. At least, in my head that’s the only possible reason that worked as to why someone so devastatingly handsome would need to hire an escort. Shuffling through the pages, I finally found the list of rules “Ms. Milan” sent home with me last night. 
    1. Always look your best. Never let the client see you unprepared. Makeup should be done, hair styled, nails polished, and clothes unwrinkled at all times. The client will provide you with a wardrobe of their choosing. Your sizes and preferences have been given to their personal stylist. 
    I rolled my eyes and looked longingly at the fat stack of jeans I had in my closet organizer. A personal stylist? Jeez, these people had far too much money. How hard was it to pick out your own clothes? My sizes had been sent over? Awesome. Now the guy knows I had a few pounds to lose. Being five nine gave me the advantage of looking thinner than I was, but I knew my aunt preferred her girls around a size zero. Whereas, I was a curvy size eight, sometimes even a ten, if I was being honest. Probably considered plus size in the modeling world.
    He picked you. I reminded myself while filling a small backpack full of essentials. Lotion, makeup, perfume, my Kindle, a small bag of my favorite jewelry. There wasn’t anything of value, but they were mine and, at the very least, I needed to be me in some small way. I also grabbed a brand new journal and my personalized stationary. Figured since this was a yearlong experience, might as well try to learn something from it. Hell, maybe I could even write it into my own movie one day.
    Tossing the bag into my overstuffed chair in the studio apartment I rented for cheap, I looked at the rest of the list.
    2. Smile constantly. Never appear to be angry, sad, or emotional in any way. Men don’t hire women so they can deal with your emotional problems. They hire a woman so they don’t have to.
    Emotionless.