The Hookup Handbook

Chapter Two

Chapter Two Sienna“Can you slow down, Ryd? I really don’t want to be late for my first day because you got us pulled over.” I have to practically yell for him to hear me over the unrecognizable electronic music he’s blaring.

Ryder snorts, rolling his eyes at me. “I do this drive pretty much every day, and I’ve never once gotten a ticket,” he says bluntly, not easing off the gas for a second. “We’re fine. Chill out.”

When I was a little girl, I was always changing my mind about what I would be when I grew up. I spent countless hours playing princess, teacher, or astronaut. I’d dress up as a ballerina, or pretend to be a veterinarian with my stuffed animals, letting my imagination run wild with possibilities of my future career. Mom always told me I could be anything I wanted to be.

Somehow, I don’t think working at a male escort agency is what she had in mind, and I can’t say it’s really at the top of my list either.

I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. Freshly graduated with a business degree and with practically zero ideas as to what I want to do with it, I’m at the point where any job is better than no job at all. I’m lucky that my brother was willing to vouch for me and get me this part-time gig at his, um, place of employment. If you can call it that. I’m doubly lucky that he let me move into his spare bedroom. Not that I can’t afford my own place, but it’s nice to have a roommate I can carpool with. No way could I walk into my first day at this kind of job without a little moral support.

Ryder zooms through our morning commute, taking every turn a little too fast and paying more attention to his playlist selection than the road. He’s been working as an escort with this agency for a few years now, and based on his lazy one-handed grip on the wheel, I’d say the drive is second nature to him. As he swings into a particularly sharp turn, I roll up my window to keep the humid summer air from ruining my carefully styled waves.

But Ryder’s right—I do need to chill out. I’ve got that feeling in my stomach like I’m waiting in line to go on a roller coaster.

But who could blame me? It’s my first day of work at a job where I’m the only employee who isn’t having s*x for a living. Ryder’s line of work never bothered me much, but I was always able to keep the details at arm’s length. Now I’ll be right in the middle of the action, so to speak, and I can’t help but feel a little grimy about the whole thing.

“You seem tense,” Ryder says as his gaze remains out on the road. “Are you thinking about Evan or something?”

“I never should have told you about him at all.”

He turns the volume down on the radio. “Why not?”

“Because you keep pulling the older brother card on me. I’m fine, I swear.”

“That’s what brothers do. They also lend out their spare bedrooms to their little sisters. So, are you thinking about Evan?”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. I never should have told Ryder about my breakup with my college boyfriend. Now he brings it up all the time, like he thinks he’s supposed to ask about it or something. I spared him the details, like the real reason Evan ended things with me. I also left out the part about my personal goal to chase Evan’s memory away with a summer fling.

“No, I’m not thinking about Evan. I’m way over him. That was months ago. I’m just nervous about my first day. This isn’t exactly a typical job, you know.”

“You’ll be great,” Ryder says. “And I promise it’s not nearly as awkward as you think it’s going to be. Case is fuckin’ awesome.”

Okay, then. Apparently, my new boss is f*****g awesome. Yay, me.

I pick at a loose thread on my charcoal-gray pencil skirt, hoping Ryder is right. I just have to think of this like any other temporary office job. Just something to buy me time and give me a little experience while I sort out whether to apply for grad school. It’ll look good on a résumé, as long as I leave out the company’s details.

“Just administrative work, right?” I ask, verifying for what has to be at least the hundredth time.

“Of course. Filing some paperwork, helping the boss stay organized. No funny business. You’re just here to do office work.” Ryder takes his hand off the wheel to lay it on his heart, then puts three fingers up in the air. “Scout’s honor.”

The car veers a bit, and I grip the dashboard for dear life.

“Any way you can put your ‘scout’s honor’ on getting us to the office without crashing the car?”

Ryder returns his grip to the wheel, and my blood pressure returns to normal. “We’re not gonna crash,” he says as he makes one last sharp turn down what looks more like an extra-long residential driveway than an office entrance. “Besides, we’re already here.”

As we cruise down the driveway, an enormous white stucco-and-glass home emerges from behind the sycamore trees. Ryder swings the car into a miniature parking lot off to the side of the house, parking next to a small collection of luxury cars.

“Quite the office,” I say in a hushed voice, taking in the gorgeous landscaping.

“The office is the entire first floor. Otherwise, it’s the boss’s house.” Ryder unbuckles his seat belt and hops out.

“More like the boss’s mansion,” I mutter, following Ryder’s lead out of the car and up the limestone walkway. I’m wobbling a bit in my black heels but keep my chin high, repeating my brother’s promise over and over in my head. No funny business. You’re just here to work.

Ryder punches in a pass code at the door, and with a whir and a click, we’re in. “It’s ten twenty-two,” he says over his shoulder. “Case’s mom’s birthday. But I’ll pretty much always be here with you, so you probably don’t have to memorize the code.”

I smile, knowing that I’ll commit it to memory anyway. I’m not one to let the details slide.

My heels clack along the white marble floor as I follow closely behind Ryder, avoiding eye contact as he greets a tall, toned man who walks by, and then another and another.

“Do I need to know them?” I whisper.

Ryder laughs. “Not if you don’t want to. They’re just like other coworkers, except they happen to be escorts. The only one you really need to know is Case.”

Past the kitchen and then a conference room, Ryder leads us to a big wooden door and knocks twice. A low, gravelly voice comes from the other side, telling us to come in. And we do.

“Hey, Case, this is Sienna. Sienna, this is the big man, Case.”

I step out of Ryder’s shadow and lock eyes with Case’s ultra-serious stare.

Big is the correct adjective to describe this man. He’s sitting, so I can’t properly gauge his height, but he’s got to be six and a half feet tall. Dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt that his biceps are trying to escape from, he makes me feel overdressed. His coffee-colored hair is short and neat, just like the scruff hugging the angle of his jaw.

He’s handsome, there’s no denying it. I guess his profession suits him. But it’s the stare that catches me the most off guard. So serious and unwavering. If my brother is the easygoing one, Case looks like he’s all business. His hands are folded neatly on his wooden writing desk next to an overwhelming stack of paperwork, which I can only assume will soon become my responsibility.

“Sienna. Welcome.”

Welcome? That’s it? Not a “nice to meet you” or anything? I pause, expecting him to stand up and shake my hand or something, but he doesn’t move an inch. Neither does his stare, which is pointed at me with laser-like intensity.

“Happy to be here,” I say quickly to fill the silence, although I’m not sure that I mean it. In this moment, I’d rather be anywhere but here. My insides feel like spaghetti being twisted with a fork.

“There’s a lot for you to do,” he says, nodding toward the paperwork without letting his stare falter. As his attention turns from me to my brother, he relaxes a bit, his tone going from aggressive to friendly. “Ryder, have you checked your email? There’s a client for you today. One of your regulars from across town, I think.”

Ryder pulls out his cell and nods, scrolling through his in-box. “s**t, this is in like an hour. I gotta head out.” He glances up at me. “You all good here? I gotta bounce.”

“She’s fine,” Case says sharply. “I’ll get her set up. You go ahead.”

I want to beg Ryder not to leave me just yet, but he’s the reason I’m getting a paycheck, so I can’t stand in the way of him getting his. “Just don’t forget you’re my ride home, okay?”

Ryder nods. “Of course. I’ll for sure be back before the end of the day. Later, guys.”

“Later,” Case says, the last bit of his casualness fading with Ryder’s exit. His eyes return to that intense stare as his attention moves back to me. “I guess we should get you started,” he says flatly, as if giving me work is a chore for him.

How can he be so friendly with my brother and so icy with me?

Case gets up from his desk, revealing a well-fitted pair of jeans that encase one of the nicest backsides I’ve ever seen on a man. He’s just as tall as I expected. Well over six feet, for sure, which ups the intimidation factor.

Scooping up the pile of paperwork, Case struts over to a smaller desk on the other side of the room. “You’ll work here,” he says matter-of-factly and plops the paperwork on the desk, sending a few pages flying off the stack. “And this will be your first project. Digitizing these old client files. There’s a laptop in the drawer you can use to type them into a spreadsheet. Your brother says you’re smart, so I’m guessing you can figure it out.”

In a matter of moments, he returns to his desk and is right back to work. And back to ignoring me.

Nice to meet you too.

I take my place at my new desk. As the laptop boots up, I pick up the file folders and flip through the paperwork he’s given me.

Guess it’s time to get to work. Only, I can barely focus.

For some strange reason, I’m hyperaware of this man sitting just feet from me. Shouldn’t we talk? Discuss our goals? What we each want to get out of my employment here?

The longer I sit here inputting customer files, the more agitated I become. I mean, seriously, the guy couldn’t even take two seconds out of his day to properly train me? I don’t even know where the freaking bathroom is. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do for lunch.

After I’ve inputted the twelfth customer file, I pause and take a deep breath. I can feel Case’s presence looming like a shadow across the room.

“So . . .” I pause, my attempt at small talk already crashing and burning. “You sleep with women for a living.”

Shit. Real smooth, Sienna.

Case doesn’t even look up from his computer screen, clearly not thrown by my question. “Sometimes,” he says, his deep voice rumbling.

Sometimes? What the hell is that supposed to mean? Isn’t that his job?

“How long have you been doing this?”

He pauses as he thinks about it for a second, still not looking at me. “Eight years, give or take.”

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No girlfriend.”

“Have you ever been in a serious relationship?” The words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them.

Something like wounded pride or anger flashes through his gaze as it briefly meets mine; I’m not sure which. “Not answering that.”

Case doesn’t want to talk, that much is obvious, but I’m on a roll now.

“I get why Ryder does it, but you— I mean, you run a successful business. Obviously, there’s a brain knocking around in that skull somewhere.” I smile, but my attempt at a joke doesn’t just crash and burn, it erupts into a fiery volcano, threatening to take me with it.

He looks more annoyed that I made it sound like they’re drug dealers or criminals, or possibly because I implied he must be stupid. Which I don’t really believe; it just came out wrong.

“Don’t kid yourself,” he says sharply. “f*****g is what I’m good at. But tell me, why does Ryder do it?”

“Basically? To piss our parents off. He’s always been a manwhore, and this way he can get paid for what he was doing already without having to blow through his trust fund.”

Case’s easy expression falters. Maybe he didn’t know Ryder has a trust fund. I assume he knows we come from money, and I assume he now knows that I have a trust fund too. I just hope he doesn’t judge me for it. As far as I’m concerned, that’s my parents’ money, not mine. And I intend to work for what I have.

“I like s*x. It’s really that simple, Sienna.”

The sound of my name leaving his lips makes my lungs constrict with something hot and uncomfortable.

“Nothing is that simple.” And if he actually believes that, he’s an i***t. “What’s your end game?”

“My what?” His expression is part mild irritation and part amusement at my questions. He turns his big body away from the desk so he’s facing me.

“I’m just trying to put the pieces together here.” I tap my pen on my knee.

He sits back in the chair and folds his hands behind his head, which makes his biceps look huge. A slight grin tilts his full lips. “Tell me everything that’s on your mind. All at once.”

“I’m not sleeping with you.” Oh my God. Did I just say that? Out loud? s**t!

“Never asked you to.”

I swallow the lump that’s now lodged in my throat. “I’m here to work. That’s it. I don’t want to hear about your conquests. I don’t want to know what goes on when you leave here for appointments. The only thing I’m here to do is to help you in this office.”

“Perfect. Then we’re on the same page.”

“Oh, and since I graduated at the top of my class from a top-tier university, I’d appreciate something more challenging than data entry.”

He smirks at me. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I guess I’ll get to work, then.”

Turning back to my laptop, I take a deep breath. I know I’ve completely overstepped my bounds, and I have no idea why I lost my s**t on him. I’m normally as cool as a cucumber.

I open a browser and pull up my email to fire off a quick message to my best friend, Allison.

To: Allison Garner

From: Sienna Johnson

Subject: First Day of Work

I’ve been in the “office” (more of a mansion—I’ll explain later) for all of an hour, and I think my boss already hates me. Best part? My desk is five feet away from him. Remind me why I’m doing this again?

Before I can even open a new spreadsheet to continue with my task, my email dings with a response from Allison.

To: Sienna Johnson

From: Allison Garner

Subject: Eyes on the Prize

Something to put on your résumé? To fill time between worrying about grad school and chasing down a summer fling. That’s why you’re doing this. Don’t lose sight of your goals, girl. Give your boss the finger for me. We’ll drink about it soon.

A giggle escapes me at the thought. Flipping off my boss my first day on the job? Talk about the fast lane to getting fired.

“What’s so funny?” Case gives me a suspicious look from behind his computer monitor.

“Oh, just an email.” I close the browser, just in case that intense stare can see through the back of my laptop. “Sorry. I’m halfway through these files now. I know you’re trying to work.”

“Great,” he says curtly, his attention returning to his screen. “Thank you.”

I hold tightly to that thank-you, making certain I don’t forget the way it sounds in his low, rumbling voice. Something tells me I’m not going to hear those words from him a lot.