I’m never up this early on a weekend, but I even moved a client last night just so I wouldn’t turn up looking like I’d been run over. I’m not a day time, be your date at a wedding kind of guy, but fuck it. Money’s money, right? And it might not be so bad. At the very least the sister showdown should be amusing. Plus, I get to stare at Poppy’s sweet arse all day. The girl is smoking hot and the more I spoke to her the more I actually liked her. After our conversation the other night we had dinner, we talked, it was…normal. And I realised it’s because she doesn’t know I’m an escort. She doesn’t treat me like something she paid for or act as though she wants anything from me. As far as she’s concerned I’m just a friend of a friend who’s agreed to go to a wedding with her. For a second I feel bad about deceiving her, but then I remember that it’s just a job. This job just so happens to involve the client not knowing she’s a client. That’s not on me. That’s on her friend.
