Brief Encounters_The Encounters Series Read online

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  Thank you

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Scarlett Hopper

  Copyright © 2018 by Scarlett Hopper

  Cover Design © 2017 by Sarah Hansen, Okay Creations

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Formatted by Brenda Wright, Formatting Done Wright

  “Once upon a time there was a boy who loved a girl, and her laughter was a question he wanted to spend his whole life answering.”

  —Nicole Krauss, The History of Love

  “She was becoming herself and daily casting aside that fictitious self which we assume like a garment with which to appear before the world.”

  —Kate Chopin, The Awakening

  Brief Encounters Playlist

  “A Girl Like You” by Edwyn Collins

  “Stand Back” by Stevie Nicks

  “Help Me Lose My Mind” by Disclosure, London Grammar

  “Bravado” by Lorde

  “Let Go” by Frou Frou

  “Wild World” by Cat Stevens

  “Fall At Your Feet” by Crowded House

  “Hallelujah” by Jeff Buckley

  “Ribs” by Lorde

  “Runaway” by Kanye West, Pusha T

  “Trouble” by Leona Lewis

  “Miss You Love” by Silverchair

  “9 Crimes” by Damien Rice

  “Dice” by Finley Quaye

  “Favorite Scar” by Leona Lewis

  “Never Tear Us Apart” by INXS

  “Last Night” by Diddy feat. Keyshia Cole

  “Counting” by Autre Ne Veut

  “Youth” by Daughter

  “No Rest For The Wicked” by Lykke Li

  “My Immortal” by Evanescence

  “All These Things That I’ve Done” by The Killers

  “Maps” by Yeah Yeah Yeahs

  “Poison & Wine” by The Civil Wars

  For Marnie,

  There has never been another like you and there never will be.

  Thank you for loving me and giving me the best gift on earth, my mum.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  Thank you

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  I’ve always been a good liar; I guess you could say it runs in my blood. With my job you have to be; fake name, fake persona, fake everything. But for me, I take lying to the next level. It’s not just my job that requires it. It’s my whole life.

  Amanda, Eliza, Eleanor.

  Three names. Three completely different people, yet I’ve embodied them all. Which one is the real me, you may ask? Well, let’s just say I’m still trying to figure that out.

  “All I’m saying is Travis is cute, Winnie. Why don’t you just give him a shot?” I ask my best friend, Winona, as I put on my coal eyeliner. My mom keeps telling me I look better without all this makeup on my face, but let’s get real—what nearly sixteen-year-old doesn’t wear makeup?

  “I don’t know, Eleanor. I heard he hooked up with Marci Freeman last week. I don’t want that kind of reputation.” Winona jumps off her bed and starts rummaging through her closet in hopes of finding the perfect outfit to wear to Aaron Rush’s house party tonight. He’s a senior, and we’re the only freshman girls invited. We need to look the part.

  I refocus my attention to my eyes, adding a bit more liner for good measure. Looking in the mirror, I smile proudly at what I’ve accomplished. My naturally auburn waves are nowhere in sight. Instead, I’m rocking platinum-blonde hair, yet another thing my mother can’t stand, but hey, you’re only young once.

  “Okay, so my parents think we’re staying here all night and your mom thinks we’re staying at Tessa’s, right?” The last thing I need is my parents finding out where I am, not that it would be hard for them to, considering who my dad is.

  Luckily, I’m skilled in the art of deception.

  “Yep, everything is in motion, and Tessa said we can crash at her house after the party.”

  “Perfect,” I say with a huge grin. “Tonight will be perfect.”

  A knock at the door causes us to pause. “I thought no one was home?”

  Winnie gives me a confused look. Clearly, she thought the same thing.

  “Come in,” she says as I quickly throw a robe over my dress. The last thing I need is her parents seeing me like this.

  As the door opens, Winona’s mom, Faye, appears, and I can tell something is wrong. I’ve known Winona’s family for years—we practically grew up together—and I’ve never seen Faye like this. Her usually perfect makeup is running, and her eyes are bloodshot.

  Her eyes have a look in them I’ve never seen before, and it is directed at me. My skin instantly goes cold, and dread fills my body.

  “Amanda,” she says quietly. Only my classmates and Mom call me Eleanor. Everyone else calls me by my real name, Amanda.

  “Honey, there’s been an accident with your mom,” she says. She’s clearly trying to keep it together, but a sob escapes.

  My eyes widen in shock, but I don’t dare speak for fear that it will make this all a painful reality.

  Five Years Later

  Late August 2014

  Five years ago, my life crashed down on me without the slightest bit of remorse or hesitation. Everything I thought I knew changed in a split second, and nothing has been the same since.

  You could say my mother being murdered hardened me, and you’d be correct. Before that fateful day, I didn’t have a care in the world. I lived in a huge house even though it was just my parents and me. My parents ensured I never went without anything, and I didn’t have to question why they loved me, because they showed me in more ways than one.

  As a family, we were extremely close because it was just us. Neither of my parents had siblings, and their parents had passed aw
ay before I was born. But we were okay with that; we didn’t need a big family, because we were happy having each other. My parents were my world, so when I lost my mother, it was life altering. Nothing in the entire universe could have prepared me for that day.

  But what made it all so much worse was that I didn’t just lose my mom. I lost everything that mattered to me, including my father’s love. My fifteen-year-old self didn’t know how to process any of it, so I chose not to.

  I filled my days with partying and drinking, taking anything that would help me feel numb. It worked for a while, six months exactly, until I couldn’t take it anymore. So, at sixteen years old, I left New Jersey, the place that had been my home for my whole life, and ventured off to New York, alone.

  In retrospect, going alone to New York City was extremely foolish. I’m just lucky it all worked out so well. New York is where I met my best friend and complete confidante, Vivian Clark. I guess you could call her my saving grace because without her, I hate to think where I would be. She gave me everything. A warm place to sleep, food, a job, but more importantly, she gave me her friendship.

  Looking in the mirror right now, I can’t help but think back to that naïve fifteen-year-old girl I once was, so oblivious to the horrors of the outside world. I guess it’s kind of ironic. My father didn’t exactly have a savory job, and I knew that growing up, but I just never expected anything bad to happen to me. I thought my father could keep the horrors of the world at bay. I never imagined he would be the reason they came knocking at my door.

  As I meticulously apply my rouge lipstick, I can’t help but think back to how I ended up here, in Cambridge, Massachusetts. I finally have control over my life. The past five years have changed a lot for me.

  Now here I am, at twenty years old, attending Breslin University with my best friend and living in our own apartment. It’s safe to say things are turning out pretty well for me, aside from the fact my job isn’t exactly what some would consider ethical.

  I didn’t mean for anything to turn out this way, but it just sort of happened. I had never met Vivian before I came to New York, but I’d heard of her from my lifelong friend, Winona, as they are cousins. Vivian’s upbringing was far from ideal after her dad died, but I was shocked to learn that she had been living in New York since she was fourteen.

  After living with Vivian for a few weeks, I was introduced to Vivian’s world. Her apartment and designer clothes didn’t come without a price, and if I had any desire to be part of it, I needed to learn quickly.

  Vivian’s job was her looks. That’s how she got by—she dated guys for money. Well, I guess I should say “dates,” because she, I mean we, still do it. But before the judgmental thoughts push forward, know this isn’t Pretty Woman. Let’s get something clear. I’m not a prostitute, hooker, call girl, escort, or any other synonym that describes someone who sleeps with people for money. I honestly have no problem if someone wants to do that, but I don’t. That isn’t how I play the game, and that’s all any of this is: a game.

  A game that lets me continue to live my life and further my education without having to acknowledge the past I left behind all those years ago.

  My dad never tried to contact me after I left, and Vivian didn’t have anyone anyway. We’ve both reinvented ourselves. We’re both free.

  It was on my eighteenth birthday that we decided to move out to Cambridge, Massachusetts, and attend college here. Luckily, I had my GED and Vivian finished high school thanks to the help of her “friend” Dean.

  We’d both saved enough from our job to be able to afford our own apartment together, so we didn’t have to live on campus. It just made things simpler, not that we ever brought men from work home with us.

  Now here we are, one week into our junior year, and life is good. We still work for Dean because the work helps with our tuition, but we’re not doing as many jobs as we used to. Tonight is an exception.

  A big CEO from Toronto is in town and has requested the company of a leggy brunette, plus a spunky blonde for his friend. Yes, he really said spunky.

  Vivian and I basically fit the bill to a T, aside from my auburn hair. The money we’ll make tonight should keep me going for a few weeks and allow me to focus on my schoolwork. Unlike Vivian, I’m not naturally gifted with intellect, and I have to really work for some of my classes.

  As I put the finishing touches on my hair and makeup, I can’t help but wonder where I would be if I didn’t have Vivian. Just before my morbid thoughts can consume me, there’s a knock on the door.

  “Eleanor, if we don’t get going soon, you know Dean will be pissed.”

  “Fuck!” I say as I poke my eye with my mascara. “I’ll be right out!” I stuff all my makeup into my purse and take one last look in the mirror. “Okay, Eleanor Ivy, you’ve got this,” I say to myself. Then I’m out the door.

  A Girl Like You

  The car ride to the hotel is long and tedious, with Vivian not shutting up about the hot new boy in her Intro to Philosophy class.

  “Seriously, Ellie, you would die over Will, he’s amazing.”

  “Really, Viv,” I say, attempting to feign disinterest. “What happened to the guy of this summer? What was his name again?”

  “Sebastian,” Vivian says, then huffs. “God, just because I’m putting myself out there doesn’t mean you need to bag on every guy I think is cute.” She lets out a breath, her blonde curls bouncing along with her annoyance.

  “But you think everyone is cute!” I say, faking frustration, but she sees the smile that has spread across my lips.

  “Honestly, I don’t know why you don’t put yourself out there more. You have a banging body and a killer personality. Any guy would die to be with you.”

  “Bang me, you mean. Any guy would die to bang me. Viv, you give guys too much credit. Nowadays, all anyone is looking for is a quick lay with an even faster getaway.”

  I know I sound cynical, but it was a reality I had faced, and quickly accepted growing up. People disappoint you, and you have to find ways to deal with it.

  “Ellie, you’re never going to find someone with that kind of attitude!”

  Clearly seeing I’m not going to budge, she turns her attention to her perfectly manicured red nails that are glistening in the light of the car. I envy Viv for how incredible she always looks on these nights. Viv has something special about her that everyone notices when she walks into a room. It could be her stunning green eyes and, her golden hair that’s almost always perfectly styled, or just her killer personality.

  I’ve always thought one of the men would fall in love with her because of it. Most people would be surprised to see she hasn’t fallen in love right back, but even Viv isn’t that naïve. We’re here for one reason and one reason only: make the sleazy old men have a nice piece of arm candy for everyone to gawk at. Love just isn’t a factor.

  “Ellie! Earth to Eleanor.” I quickly snap out of my unnecessary stream of consciousness. “God, I honestly have no idea where you go sometimes,” Vivian says as she runs her hands down her black satin dress, something only she could pull off.

  “Sorry. You know I zone out,” I say halfheartedly as I tug on the very short hem of my emerald cocktail dress. I’ve been doing this job for years, but it still doesn’t feel normal. I guess it isn’t supposed to.

  “Oh god, we’re here,” Viv says with a squeal as we pull up to the curb. As the car comes to a stop, Viv turns and looks me in the eye.

  “Okay, Ellie, tonight is a big one. If we successfully pull this off, we won’t have to work for a while, and you know what that means: a break from Dean.”

  Viv says this in a playful manner, but I see the fear in her features. Dean, our boss, has a special interest in Viv, an interest that has caused quite a few issues between him and me. Dean and I don’t always get along, because I’m not afraid to stand up to him when he misbehaves. I swear I’m only still around because of Vivian.

  Since Viv started working this job, Dean has always gi
ven her a little extra attention and cash. Viv is the type of girl who hates to say no, so she takes it, without understanding the unwritten baggage that comes along with it. I’m not going to lie; having Dean around has greatly helped us, especially with school. I just wish he knew when to back off.

  I grab Vivian’s warm hands and wrap my own around them, holding them tightly.

  “I promise tonight will be perfect. We’ll be in and out without any interruptions.”

  Viv gives me a cheeky smile with a raised eyebrow; she’s found the innuendo in what I said.

  “Oh god, Viv, you know what I mean! It would take at least ten million for me to actually sleep with one of these creeps,” I say with a giggle.

  Viv nods and quickly adds, “Make that twenty million.”

  As we enter the grand hall, we’re greeted with flutes of champagne that I can safely assume aren’t our regular ten-dollar store-bought brand. In the main ballroom, my breath catches at the beauty of what surrounds me: high ceilings with gold detailing and white marble floors that you could crack a tooth on.

  Before I can drool over anything else, a shadowed figure steps in front of me. I turn to Viv, but she’s gone, already chatting up her “date.”

  As I look up, I see an older man. He has salt-and-pepper hair and a smile that would charm most. His black Armani suit automatically tells me he’s loaded, along with his gold Rolex on his left hand. I’ve developed an eye for detail, since details can potentially give away information about what I’m getting myself into.

  I continue to asses him and can tell his body is in shape—for an older man, that is. His face reminds me of a middle-aged Marlon Brando. You know, before he got fat and died. A smug smile spreads across his lips as he tilts his head down to look at me.

  “Well, hello there. You must be Eliza,” he says in an unnerving tone.

  Eliza is my “work” name; Vivian goes by Elena. In this business, real names are never used.

  I put on my perfected fake-as-fuck smile and raise my hand to greet him, which he meets with a kiss. I push down the cringe, keeping in professional mode.