Call Girl

Life as a normal young adult was not something Ariana Ramsey could relate to. When a malicious rumor about her being a call girl grows aggressively out of control, Ariana uses it to her advantage instead of crumbling from its devastation. During one wild night, Ariana meets Harry Styles – a famous musician. What she didn’t expect was for him to fall for her, and she for him. But nothing comes easily in her world. Harry doesn’t approve of how she makes a living, but Ariana – being the only bread-winner in her family – can’t give it up. Not just yet.


2. T W O

“Why do you have two phones?” Ariana’s little sister asked her as Ari sat idly on the couch texting on her personal phone. She was so caught off guard by her question that she just looked up and stared at her.

“What? It was just a question,” Robin said, plopping down on the couch next to Ari.

“What are you talking about?” Ari asked, confused by how she would know she had two phones.

After a while of juggling her everyday phone calls with her private phone calls, she decided to put some of her newly acquired money to good use and invest in a second phone line. Her old number was reserved for the business, since it was still circulating around on what was left of the business cards that Collin distributed. And the new line was for her personal use.

“Your purse was buzzing and I couldn’t figure out why, so I dug out your phone… but, I mean… you’re on your phone. So, I was just wondering what the phone in your purse is for,” Robin asked her.

“Someone was calling that phone?” Ari asked, quickly sitting upright.

It was a few days since she had any activity on that phone and it made her wonder if all her John’s suddenly pledged to fuck their wives instead of her.

“Yeah. Just like a minute ago,” she said.

“Damn it,” Ari said, angry with herself that she let a call pass her by. Usually she kept that phone with her at all times.

She stood up quickly and raced to the room she shared with her little sister in their mother’s apartment. Digging quickly into her purse, she pulled out the phone.

“So why do you still have that phone?” She heard Robin ask.

“I don’t know. I just… I just never shut it off. Some people still have this number,” Ari said, making up a quick excuse. Robin looked at her skeptically.

“Whatever, Robin. It’s none of your business,” Ari said, grabbing her cigarettes before she moved passed Robin to go outside. She had a voicemail to listen to and she wasn’t about to do that in front of her fourteen year old sister.

“I wish you’d quit smoking!” Robin called after her.

“Not gonna happen,” Ari said before closing the apartment door behind her.

Smoking was the only thing that could calm her nerves before or after one of her trysts. A habit she held onto since she was sixteen years old. She wasn’t quitting any time soon.

Once she was outside with a cigarette perched between her lips, she dialed the voicemail on her phone to see if her services were needed or if it was just something stupid like a spam call.

“You have one new voice message…” She heard the automated lady say as she held the phone up to her ear.

“Uhh… um… Hi. I’m looking for Ariana. I got her number from a… from a friend. I would like to speak with her about a possible… uh, job opportunity. Call Jude at 310-207-8345. Uh, thanks,” a male voice came across the phone line.

He didn’t sound to be over the age of twenty-five, which was odd to her since her clientele was mostly men in their forties. He also sounded incredibly apprehensive about the phone call, like he’d never done something so entirely daring in his life. Everything about the message intrigued her and she found herself dialing the number he left on the voicemail.

“Hello,” the same male’s voice answered, sounding a bit more confident than he did on the message.

“Jude?” She questioned.

“Yeah. Who’s this?” He asked, with a hint of annoyance in his tone.

“Ariana,” she told him.

“Oh! Ariana,” he said, changing his tone altogether.

“Yes,” she said, biting at her lip.

“Here. Let me… let me get to a place where we can talk. Hold on,” he said. Ariana took a couple drags of her cigarette, waiting for the conversation to resume.

“Okay, alright,” he said a few moments later.

“What can I help you with?” she asked him, trying to disguise her voice as seductive.

“Well, uh… I-I got your card from a friend. And I know all about your… your services…” He started to explain.

“Yes,” she said, hoping he’d just blurt it out, rather than being coy about it.

“But I was… I was wondering if you did more than just… you know…” He asked without using the actual words.

“What do you mean?” She asked, quirking an eyebrow. He wanted to know if she did more than fuck for money. What more could there be?

“Well, you see… my friend’s birthday is coming up…” He started to explain.

“So this is for your friend?” She asked, trying to keep up.

“Well, yeah. I mean, yeah. Is that okay?” He asked hesitantly.

“Yes. That’s fine,” she told him.

“So, I was just wondering if you… well, you see, I’m not exactly familiar with this type of thing you do… I don’t know a lot of people who… who work in your line of… of work…” He stammered. She rolled her eyes, wishing he would just get to the fucking point.

“Okay…” She said.

“So obviously then I wouldn’t know a lot of people that… you know, take their clothes off for money either,” he continued. Ariana immediately rolled her eyes. Jesus Christ. He was looking for a stripper.

“So, if I’m understanding this correctly… you want me to strip for your friend for his birthday?” She asked, feeling incredibly annoyed by all of this.

“Yes! Like, at his party,” he said, sounding relieved that he didn’t have to try and explain himself any longer.

“I’m not a stripper,” she told him evenly.

“Well, I know that. But I’ve heard great things about you. I mean, I’ve heard you’re… you’re good at what you do. And that consists of putting on a show and taking your clothes off, doesn’t it? This would just be a little bit different. You’d be putting on a show for a group of us with no obligation to fuck us in the end,” he explained to her.

Ari stood there, phone to her ear, trying her hardest to wrap her head around it. His last words were ringing in her head. With no obligation to fuck us in the end.

“I’m not cheap. I have a pretty good clientele that pays me well,” she told him.

“Money is no issue,” he told her, sweetening the deal.

“A thousand. Not including tips during the show,” she told him.

“Done,” he said confidently.

“And no obligation of sex,” she told him.

“Done,” he said again.

“But if approached, sex is not out of the question,” she said, opening it up for herself to possibly make even more that night.

“Even better,” he said with a light laugh.

“Alright. I’ll do it,” she told him, throwing her cigarette butt on the ground before stomping it out with her shoe.

“Uh, it’s tomorrow night,” he threw in and she rolled her eyes. Of course there was absolutely no advanced warning.

“Uh, alright. What time?” She asked.

“Is ten o’clock, okay?” He asked hopefully.

“I’ll have to move some things around, but yeah, I can make it,” she told him, fibbing just slightly. There was nothing on her calendar that needed to be moved around.

“It’s going to be in the presidential suite at Hotel Bel-Air in downtown LA,” he told her.

“Classy,” she commented.

“Yeah,” he chuckled.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night then,” she told him.

“Yes, you will,” he said, sounding relieved that he got his buddy a stripper.

“And Jude?” Ari asked.

“Yeah,” he replied.

“What’s the birthday boy’s name?” She asked.

“Harry,” he told her.

“Harry. Alright. See you tomorrow,” she said before hanging up the phone.

Tomorrow night she would add stripper to her résumé. Fuck.

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