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by Cassidy Ryan
Description: Jennifer thought that accepting a job as PA to the owner of a high-class call-girl agency would bring some excitement to her life, but it turns out to be no more exciting than being the PA to a used car salesman. She is on the verge of quitting when the agency is contacted by reclusive artist, Mason Greene, looking to hire a girl for the week. Jennifer sees this as her chance to finally add a little spice to her humdrum life. So, she becomes Caprice, and heads off to Mason Greene's private island. But secrets never stay secret for long. What will happen when the truth catches up with Jennifer?
eBook Publisher: Red Rose Publishing, 2010
eBookwise Release Date: January 2011
1 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [53 KB]
Reading time: 30-42 min.
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I suppose I thought that going to work for a madam would be a little bit more exciting than working as a personal assistant to a car salesman.
My boss, Dave Mueller, availed himself of Vivienne Hayle's services on a fairly regular basis, and as his assistant it had been my job to disguise the rather hefty payments as business expenditures, which was actually a lot easier than it could have been, given that the Hayle Agency was widely believed to be a legitimate modeling agency. If the IRS had any questions about the amount of money Mueller Autos was laying out on promotional expenses, then they didn't ask them while I was working there.
It took me about five seconds to accept Vivienne's offer to become her PA--I'd been pretty bored with my job for a while, and just recently Dave had been getting a little too loose with the hands for my liking. I had no intention of sticking around to give him the opportunity to indulge in a game of "chase the secretary around the desk".
As it turned out, working as a PA to the owner of a high class call girl agency was no more exciting than working as a PA to the owner of a car lot. Appointments still had to be made, taxes still had to be paid and books had to be balanced. At the end of the day, paperwork was just paperwork, whether the item on sale was a used Honda Civic or a six foot leggy blond.
By the end of my first year at the Hayle Agency, boredom was starting to bite as deeply as ever, and I was thinking about moving on again.
On the very day that I booked a week's annual leave, the email came in.
Mason Greene was far from being a regular client of the agency; in my time there he had used its services only twice before, and on both occasions every girl on the books had been clamoring for the job--it was like watching a particularly vicious episode of America's Next Top Model--I even had girls offering me a cut of their payment if I sent Mason Greene their way. I had assumed that the big attraction was the fact that Greene owned and lived on his very own tropical island, but when I mentioned this, Vivienne simply smiled and said: