Thunder - Willow Summers Page 0,5
disagree.”
Feeling a scowl coming on, Madison looked away. It wasn’t worth mentioning that all of this was coming from a woman with an on-again-off-again boyfriend. That Janie probably wasn’t the best source for relationship insight. But it didn’t matter. What was done was done. And besides, Janie was touchy at best about that lover of hers. She was liable to stab Madison in the eye for bringing it up. A girl just never knew, where it concerned Janie. That was half the fun.
“I guess I can’t go to James’s wedding,” Madison said. “He’ll probably think I’m canceling because I don’t have a date. Which is true.” She crinkled her nose and drummed on the counter. “This really sucks.”
“Just get a date for the thing.” Janie shrugged. “That’s easy enough for you. There are, like, eight hundred people desperate to bone you in your office.”
“Your sarcastic faith in me is really something. I’m overwhelmed with all the love in this room.”
Janie laughed and grabbed the bottle to make them another round of drinks. It would be a dirty night. “But seriously, just get a date. You don’t have to know the guy.”
“I kinda wanted a steady thing to prove I’m stable. You know, since he accused me of being a psycho when he broke up with me.”
“So get your date to pretend you’ve been together for a while. This is not rocket science.”
“Oh sure, yeah. That’s not awkward or anything. I’d have to babysit the date and help him act? Are you trying to set me up for suicide?”
“Oh my God. Do I have to do everything for you?” Janie abandoned the martini and stalked from the room.
“I don’t mean this the way a guy would or anything,” Madison hollered at her retreating friend, “but are you PMSing? Because you’re all over the place.”
Janie marched back in with a card in her hand. She thumped it down on the counter. “Yes. I am. I feel as big as a house, you don’t have any chocolate, and despite hating to cry in front of people, I want to sob. Okay? Call that fucking number, bitch, and let’s lament that Frank the wonder chump is out of your life.”
“I’m afraid of you right now.”
“That is wise.” Janie went back to Dr. Vodka.
Madison picked up the card and read the front with a crooked grin. “Big Dick Escort Service?” Giggles bubbled out. “Are you for real?”
“Yes, actually. You get what you pay for. They’re expensive, but they’re professional.”
“Their name is Big Dick Escort Service, and you’re saying they’re professional?”
“They don’t work in a high rise like you, no, but they know their business.”
“The business that this card boasts is just over two years old? A whole two years?”
Janie started to chuckle helplessly. “Yes, okay, so there are some issues. Like that weird dick and balls in the logo. But seriously, I know a friend who used them and everything was professional. He didn’t hit on her or act sleazy in any way. I guess he was really charming. He picked her up like a date, took her to her business dinner, chatted or whatever, and took her home. That was it. No biggie.”
“Are they hot?” Madison flung down the card.
“She said the guy was smoking. Like”—Janie fanned herself—“smo-king.”
“Escort services are usually for sex.”
“Not always, but they do that, too. On the down-low, obviously.”
“Oh, ew. I’m not hiring a hooker to go to James’s wedding with me. That’s the opposite of what I’m going for.”
Janie sipped her martini. When she set it down, she threw Madison a glare. “Do you want to see my ragey side?”
“No, thank you.”
“No, thank you is right. What did I just say? You don’t have to hire him for sex. Just hire him for the thing. How did a dumb girl like you get so far in the export business?”
“We import.”
“Whatever.”
Madison patted the card. “I’m going to stick to maybe on this one. I’ll look it up, but if the website has pictures of women licking chocolate off guys’ junk, I’m out. Oh, and if there’s an obscene amount of A) pink or B) glitter.”
“Chocolate. Ugh.” Janie bent and banged her head off the counter. “I so wish you had chocolate. But in related news, these guys aren’t strippers.”
“So you say.” Madison fingered the card again. If they were in any way decent, it might not be a bad idea.
And the fact that she was contemplating an escort service, which sold sex, as a viable alternative to her problem really