Page 4 of If You Were Mine (After We Fall 3)
“No.” Jaime shrank back and looked at me like I was crazy. “You can’t seriously be considering hiring a strange man to be your date, Claire. You’re not that desperate.”
“I guess I’m not,” I said.
But my ears were tingling.
Two
Claire
* * *
Two days later, I still didn’t have a date, and I decided to google it. (I’d like to mention that this was after drinking almost an entire bottle of wine while watching back-to-back holiday romances on the Hallmark Channel. I cannot be held responsible for my behavior after such an evening.) While the credits were still rolling on the second movie, I poured the last of the bottle into my glass and opened my laptop. I typed “rent a date” into the search box, took a sip for courage, and clicked.
I was immediately bombarded with tits and ass pics. Realizing my mistake, I specified I was looking for male companionship, hoped my eyeballs wouldn’t be assaulted with dick pics, and clicked again.
A bunch of sites came up, and the top result was called Hotties4Hire.com. After glancing over my shoulder as if I was scared of being caught (which was ridiculous, since I lived alone) and a big gulp of chianti, I opened the link.
Need a date for a special occasion but don’t have time to find one?
Tired of all the questions about why you’re still single?
Want a platonic companion for a limited time who will pretend to adore you?
Look no further.
Hire a hottie has a man for you!
I perked right up. It was like the site was made for me! The guys looked attractive and not too serial-killery, and there were plenty of testimonials from satisfied customers.
“Hotties for Hire was exactly what I needed to get through the company Christmas party! Ron was a true gentleman, and so hot!”
“I can’t say enough good things about Shemar! He was polite, attractive, and completely attentive all night!”
“Everyone was jealous of my Hottie at the wedding, and my ex almost fell over! I felt amazing all night long!”
The site was run by women, and they had Hotties in twenty-two states, Michigan included. THIS IS NOT A DATING SITE, they claimed. “If you’re looking for a committed relationship or sex, this site is not for you, but if all you need is a fantastic evening with someone safe, friendly, and best of all, HOT, then we can help!”
Yes! Help me, Hotties!
Five minutes later, I’d paid my $29.95 to have access to Hottie profiles in my area and frantically searched for one that looked like Ryan Gosling. It didn’t take me long to realize that the guys they used on the home page weren’t entirely representative of the actual stock, but I didn’t see anybody that looked like they just got out of the state penitentiary, either. Finally, I saw someone I thought might work—he had sandy hair, light eyes, a solid eight on a scale of one to ten, and his name was Fred.
According to his profile, Fred was a pilot and enjoyed traveling, meeting new people, and classic cars. He was six feet tall, thirty-one years old, and had never been married. He had two dozen five-chili-pepper ratings, and the comments were all positive. “So much fun!” said Lisa in Orlando. “An absolute doll,” gushed Jasmine in Phoenix. “Charming and sweet!” exclaimed Shelly in Buffalo. “And an awesome dancer!”
Orlando, Phoenix, and Buffalo? Wow, he really got around. Was that because he was a pilot? Where was home? Not that I needed to care. All I needed to worry about was that he showed up on time and pretended to like me, which I hoped wouldn’t be that hard of a job, as long as he was a better actor than I was.
For a hundred dollars an hour, he’d better be.
I took another gulp of wine and sent him a message via the site. Hello Fred, my name is Claire, and I’m looking for a date for a co-worker’s wedding the night of Friday, December 21st. Are you available? If so, would it be possible to meet for coffee first just to get to know each other a bit? Discuss the situation?
Right before I sent it, I had a little panic attack. This was totally insane, wasn’t it? Renting a man just to save face? What if he strangled me and stuffed my body in the trunk of his vintage Camaro or something?
Then I remembered the time I sat at the singles table and the guy next to me recited 369 digits of pi before asking me if I’d like to read his erotic Pokémon fanfic.
Click.
Thank you! Fred will get back to you soon!
I closed my laptop and sat there for a moment, trying to decide if I felt creepy and desperate or modern and edgy. There was nothing wrong with this, was there? After all, I was a woman of the new millennium! We weren’t bound by old-fashioned rules about dating like our mothers and grandmothers! And this wasn’t really dating, anyway. It was just…online shopping. For a human.
