March (Calendar Girl #3) (3 page)

“And that was all within the budget?”

“I got people, who got people, who give me fat discounts. So yeah, it’s in the budget.” Gin rustled in her purse and pulled out a pack of gum. She opened it up and shoved a piece in her mouth, chewed a few times and groaned.

Staring at her, I tried to place my finger on what was different. Something was up with her. “What’s with you and the gum?”

Her eyes brightened and a small smile slid across her face. “Trying to quit.”

“Quit what?”

Her smile dropped and her face went slack. She twisted her lips pinching them between thumb and forefinger. “Smoking,” she said quietly.

Oh man, and I didn’t notice. Shit. Best friends notice when their friends all of a sudden no longer have a cancer stick poking out of their mouths. “Shit, Gin, that’s amazing! How is it going? Why didn’t you tell me?”

She signed. “Well, I
would
have but you’ve been all about Wes, and Alec and the job and you haven’t asked me once how life back in Vegas has been for me aside from me checking on Maddy and Pops.”

I closed my eyes and took a breath then opened them and looked at my best friend in the whole wide world. “I’m sorry I haven’t been a very good friend have I?”

She shook her head. “No, you’ve had a lot going on. I get that.”

“It’s not okay. You’re important to me too. I want to know what’s going on in your life. You’re still my best friend and I fucked up. I won’t let it happen again. Promise.” And I meant it. Every last word. I’d been a sucky friend to Gin and she’s done nothing but support and love me through all of this. Taking care of Maddy, checking on Dad, all while she has her own life and struggles. 

“And if you do it again. What do I get?” Her tone was light and forgiving. It was our way. We’d never stayed mad at each other longer than a day in our entire lives.

I thought about it for a moment. “Naked pictures of one of my hotties?” I offered knowing Ginelle was nothing if not a sex-driven hoochie.

“Deal!” She put out her hand, and we locked pinkies, then she kissed our combined digits and then I did. No red stain on the flesh. Best. Lipstick. Ever. “You know though, you have been pretty bad…” She frowned and made a sad puppy dog face. “I’m thinking you should give me something to prove you’ve got the goods.”

I licked my lips and stared at her. Then I grinned, kept my gaze locked on hers but pulled my phone out of my back pocket. With quick movements I brought up the section of photos I’d filed away. I scrolled to one and then turned it around.

Ginelle looked at it and her mouth dropped. “You fucking skanky assed whore,” she whispered, mouth agape, eyes glued to the screen. I pulled the phone back and looked at the picture I’d taken of Alec lying in bed asleep. He was lying face down. His strong, muscled back and tight, bare ass were on full display. The long russet and gold hair fanned alongside the pillow highlighting his perfection.  The light was shining just so that morning, and I had to capture it.

I found the next image. It was Wes on the beach after we’d surfed without the trainer. Over the month I’d gotten pretty adept at the art of surfing. That day I’d already come up on the beach and was checking my phone when he got out of the ocean, and started pushing down his wet suit. The fabric caught and so did my camera when that suit pushed almost past the point of no return. The picture showed his golden chest down to a supremely trim waist. A lovely happy trail led the way to a small tuft of curls where his cock lay hidden by the wet suit. I turned the camera around and Ginelle balked. She picked up her shot, slammed it back and swallowed. “I fucking hate you,” she said while staring at the image.

“Yeah, I hate me too,” I said looking down at my sweet Wes. The one who’d asked me to stay, and I still left something behind with that Californian movie-making surfer, but I’d never admit it. Not even for a moment.

C
HAPTER 3

The housekeeper who let me in brought me through the Penthouse apartment and beyond a set of double doors at the end of a spacious home on the fortieth floor. The elevator felt like an amusement park ride it took so long to get to the top. I’d bet good money the view was impressive.

Distracted, the man set my bag on a padded bench in front of a monster sized bed, turned around and disappeared. That’s when I heard the sound of rushing water. Someone was taking a shower.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

That was the last thing I needed. To meet my new client when he was naked. I clenched a hand around the strap of my purse and planned to make a hasty exit when the door opened. A large form emerged from a wall of steam. The lighting around his silhouette created an ethereal picture that could feature very easily on the big screen. It stopped me dead in my tracks by the force of sheer wonder.

That’s when my client entered the room, clad only in a small towel precariously dangling from his hips. Water droplets streamed down every scintillating inch of his muscular frame. My mouth went dry, and my heart might have actually stopped beating. It was okay because I decided right then and there it would have been a good way to go.  Basically, in my twenty-four years, I’d finally seen perfection in all its naked glory.

“Holy mother of God.” Drool may have slid over my lip and down my chin. Wes and Alec were something to write home about. And I did. Often. To Ginelle, who poured over every letter. Anthony Fasano, on the other hand, was beyond the realm of female comprehension. He was massive. A brick house. Based on what I could see of his thighs peeking from under the towel, they were the size of tree trunks. Square pecs and rectangular muscle cut like a graph along his chest and abdomen. And the arms...I couldn’t even think straight for how much I wanted to touch those arms. Have them hold me close, wrap around me. Make all the hurt of the last two months go away. 

Anthony’s ebony hair was slicked back; water dripped from the longer layers, and fell onto the widest shoulders I’d ever seen. And I’ve seen my fair share of naked, hot guys. This guy was ripped, and not in that gross body builder way where the muscles bulged and veins stuck out of the skin like ropes. No, he was in a league of his own. I knew he was a boxer and had seen a picture of him in his boxing shorts but that paled in comparison to the real deal. Holy shit, was he the
real
deal. More like a handful of aces.

I licked my lips and stared, allowing my purse to drop to the bench near the foot of the bed. The body god’s gaze traced my form from top to bottom. He leaned into the doorframe on one rounded, strong looking shoulder and draped the towel he was holding around his neck. Then he crossed those forearms over his chest. Oh man, I wished he hadn’t done that. Instantly, my sexy feelers flared and I had to slow my breathing in order not to pass out at the sheer male perfection before me.

“
Papi
, Mia arrived,” were the first words out of his perfectly full mouth.

Wait...Papi?

Another man strode into the space and hooked an arm around body god’s waist. A huge smile adorned his face. Where Anthony was massive, this man was smaller but still in shape with a washboard stomach and little to no fat that I could see. And I could see plenty. His body style reminded me of my Frenchman. Not quite slight, but then again the massive wall of muscles he leaned into could make any good sized hottie seem less than average.

Regardless, this man had a stunningly handsome face. Beautiful, almost androgynous. A face that made a person want to take pictures and hang them on the wall. Living in California, I was pretty certain he was Hispanic. Dark hair, dark eyes, dark skin, pointed features.

The way the two causally stood, practically naked, holding onto one another painted a very powerful picture. And that’s when it hit me like a paperweight to the head. I’m pretty sure my mouth dropped open, and I held out a finger pointing to one and then the other. “Oh! Wow. Um, okay. So yeah. Now I know why you need me.”

“Smart girl you picked out,” the unnamed man said. Then his eyes did a loop from top to toe. “And ridiculously beautiful.” His eyebrows narrowed. “Did you have to pick out the prettiest one?” He moved away from Anthony, crossed his arms over his chest and puffed out a breath of air dramatically. “Should I be worried?” He tapped a foot, actually tapped his foot like a chick about to nail her man.

Anthony’s eyes seemed to tiptoe along my curves before he grinned wickedly. “May-be.” He drew out the word. “And yeah, I had to pick the best girl. My family would want me to be with the perfect one.” He extended his hand but looked at the man by his side. “She’s pretty damned perfect, wouldn’t you agree?”

The Hispanic man’s lips pursed and then dropped into a scowl. “
Si
. You are very beautiful.” He finally spoke directly to me.

“Uh, thanks, I think. And who are you?” That was the hundred thousand dollar question.

“I am Hector Chavez. Anthony’s
partner
.”

“Not this month you’re not,” Anthony snickered.

Hector’s face fell. “That is not even funny. We just need to get through this. I, for one, am not looking forward to it,” his voice rose in volume as he pulled away, and then disappeared behind a door. Probably the closet.

“You guys are a couple?” I gestured to the door with a wave of my hand.

Anthony smiled wide and tipped his chin. My heart started beating again. Damn, I knew not all the good ones were gay, but this one was damned good and definitely gay.

“How about we get dressed and then discuss?”

“Oh sure. Yeah, of course.” I turned around, and fumbled while grabbing my purse and bag.

“The room two doors down on the left is yours for the month. I believe you’ll find everything you need for the next few days. Why don’t you go get settled. Tomorrow, Hector will take you shopping for additional items.” I cringed. Anthony tilted his head to the side, his ice-blue eyes focused solely on me. “I see that idea does not excite you. Most women would love an opportunity to buy ridiculous amounts of expensive clothing.”

I huffed. “Well, I think you’re going to find out rather quickly, I’m not like most girls. Not to mention the fact that I am a woman, not a girl.” I winked then looked down. “You may want to tighten that towel, I can see your dick.” I glanced down once more where I could see way down his happy trail to the top inch of his cock.

He didn’t move a muscle, just licked his bottom lip and assessed me with his steely gaze. “This is going to be interesting with you here, I can already tell.”

I turned on a heel and opened the door. “What’s the fun in life if everything’s pre-
dick
-ta-ble,” I shot over my back and walked into the hall.

He chuckled and shook his head then shut the door.   

***

I was sitting at the bar munching on a chicken salad sandwich when Hector and Anthony emerged a half hour later.

“By far, the best chicken salad I’ve ever had,” I told Renaldo and swiveled my chair around to greet the men. Renaldo had given me the lowdown while he made lunch. Apparently, he was not only the housekeeper, he cleaned, cooked, and did whatever the guys needed. Turned out, he was also fluent in the art of gossip. It seems that because I was a hired employee, that gave me the right to be updated on the latest dealings with our hunky bosses. 

Renaldo set two plates down on each side of me and continued about his task humming quietly. I liked the little fella. Definitely of Latin or Hispanic descent, he was plump, in his fifties, all of five foot five, discernably gay based on the way he gushed about the good looks of said bosses, and had a friendly, puppy-like quality about him.

“Mia Saunders,” Hector approached with his arms out wide and pulled me into a tight hug. “Thank you for coming.”

“No thanks necessary. You did pay for me to be here?”

Hector pulled back and brushed a lock of hair over my shoulder. “Yes, but you still have a choice. We’re glad you chose us.”

I shrugged. “Cool. It’s good to meet you.” I glanced over to the mammoth hunk and held out my hand. “Anthony Fasano, my new fiancé I presume.”

Anthony chuckled and blew a fast breath out his nose before grasping my hand in a firm hold. “The one and only. It’s good to meet my future bride.”

Hector’s head flung around so fast it could have been mistaken for a top. “Excuse me. You mean pretend bride. If anyone’s walking down an aisle with
you
, big guy, it will be me!” He pursed his lips together and mumbled under his breath while taking the seat next to me.

“
Papi
, don’t. You know I was joking. You don’t have to be so literal.” Anthony shook his head and rested his hands at his sides. “And you can call me Tony. If you’re going to be my pretend fiancée we may as well get that one straight right off the bat.” He moved forward and maneuvered his giant frame onto the small stool. Well, it only seemed small when he sat on it. I waited and watched the wooden legs to see if they were going to break under the pressure of all that male muscle. 

Hector clinked his shoulder with mine breaking me from my stupor. “Hey, eyes on your sandwich, missy. All that hunky hotness,”—he tipped his chin at Tony and then back to me—“is mine and mine alone. You get that, we’ll be just fine.”

I opened my mouth to say something but instead let out a breath and nodded.

“So, what’s my first assignment?” I bit into the sandwich and looked from one side to the other where the guys caged me in. In only three bites, Tony finished half of his sandwich. Damn, he was big.

He wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Tonight, the three of us get to know each other. Tomorrow morning, you meet Ma.”

I’m pretty certain my entire face flattened like a pancake the way that information slapped me upside the head. “Tomorrow? After one night, you expect me to act like I’m in love with you and fool your mother. As in, the woman who gave birth to you?”

Both Hector and Tony nodded. Then Hector spoke. “Your description said you were an actress. We figured that was a plus for us. Besides, tomorrow’s Friday night dinner and we always meet Ma and the family for dinner.”