Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 133034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Eb isn’t in the grotto very long. She comes out with a photo and a smile, but there is no recognition on her face.
“Nice guy,” she says, and I laugh.
“He’s way more than that, he’s…”
“Amazing!” we say in unison.
“Yeah, he sure is,” she says. “I bet he’s an absolute heartstopper under that Santa costume.”
“Um, yeah, you could say that.”
“I’d better go re-join the queue then. Have myself another go on his lap and try to tempt him.”
God, how I love Eb. I grab her for a hug, because without her I’d never have met Santa in the first place. I wouldn’t be here at all.
“Thank you. All of this, everything I do, is all because of you,” I say to her, and she laughs.
“Oh, babe, you have nothing to say thank you for. You did all this for yourself. All I gave you was a referral. Nothing more.”
“Yeah, and look what it did for me.”
She pulls away.
“No, no, Ells. No way. You did it for you. You took advantage of the opportunity and gave it everything you had. That’s what matters. That’s what makes you, you.” She holds out her arms. “The fantastic, fantabulous Ella Edwards. Highs and lows, babe, you had them all, and you came out on top of the mountain.”
I sure did.
We walk up to join Tiff when she leaves the grotto. I hope she didn’t give Santa too much of a hungover mouthful.
“Amazing, isn’t he?” I say. “You were right, Tiff, he remembered me. Thanked me again for coming to his rescue last year.”
Eb sighs. “Damnit. I wish he was an active client. I’d love him to empty his sack for me, even if he is in a pillow suit. Those eyes…”
“What do you mean if he was an active client?” Tiff asks.
“He signed up as a newbie last year,” I tell her, refreshing the memory. His account is no huge secret. It was a charity donation and nothing more. “He told me he might be using his client profile for bookings, but nah, nothing.” I call up my phone and log in to the app. I can show her this one, I’m sure. Screw the rules, nothing happened.
User 5639. Male. 48.
“User 5639 hasn’t made any bookings since that one with Ells,” Eb groans. “I just searched on the forums. Not one peep about him. Nothing. Nada. Zilch.”
Tiff seems weird. Disoriented even. She looks like she’s about to barf or black out. Jeez, we need to hit brunch and get her sorted from this hangover. But there’s a hint of something deeper… something more…
“What is it?” I ask. “You alright, Tiff? You seem… weird?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she says, with another smile. “Like I said, I’ve got a pissing hangover, and my ass feels like I’ve been impaled by a battering ram. Cut me some slack, will you?”
Ebony laughs. “A battering ram, now that I’d like to see.”
“Actually, it was an enthusiastic three on one, but you get my gist.”
“Ouch,” she says, “That explains it, then.”
I’m not quite buying it like Eb is. Something seems off, churning under the surface.
I curse myself inside, because charity starts with those closest to you, and I haven’t been there nearly as much for Tiff as I should have been over the past few months. Even though she’s in Belgravia along with me and Josh, we’ve been like passing ships in the night. Hardly anything more than D&S messages, voice notes, and the occasional pizza night.
And I’ve been babied up of late. Massively.
Tiff doesn’t do so well with that kind of thing.
It’s me who takes her hand this time, giving it a squeeze.
“Girl time,” I say, drawing the Santa conversation to a close. “Let’s go have fun, ladies. Christmas is calling.”
Fuck, I’m one hell of a lucky girl. Tiff can he hungover and snarky, and loud mouthed, and Eb has the classic kind of sarcasm that raises eyebrows, and I love them both for all of it. I really do.
I have blessings longer than my shopping list, and the best kind of friends I could ever have.
Yet another thing to add to my Ella Edwards has it good list.
It’s far longer than my shopping list.
Hell, it might almost be even as long as my Naughty one.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
User 4197. Male. 52.
I have a great love for shows, especially theatre. Having made my career in the industry, producing creatively for mass audiences, I would now like a more personal show of my own.
And I would like you, my dear, to be the main star.
I want to see you as a solo performer on a grand stage, flooded by spotlights while you give me the performance of a lifetime. I’ll be the only member of the audience, and the rest of the venue will be completely empty.
Use whichever toys, and whichever props and aids you require. Create your own dialogue and your own storyline and let those creative juices flow. Just make certain you receive a standing ovation at the end of the show.