Roxy

This is a stupid idea.

This. Is. A. Stupid. Idea.

The literal worst.

Worst idea I've ever had, and I've had alot of bad ideas over the years. But this, oh this might just take the top spot.

"I've changed my mind." I groan, taking a big gulp from the presecco bottle that's been held hostage in my hand for the last ten minutes. I've been pacing up and down for so long I'm surprised I haven't burnt a hole in my rug.

What the fuck am I doing?

"No. No you haven't. You're doing this." The words of reassurance spews out of my best friends mouth. She's googling male escort services right now. God knows what my search history must look like at this point. I swear the police are going to come knocking at my door any second to arrest me. I'll ask them to make a pit stop to the nearest looney bin to get my head examined.

I know many women hire an escort and each to their own, you do you, but this is something that's completely out of my comfort zone. It's not for the purposes of what you're thinking though. This Google searh was for something more than a one night, wham bam thank you ma'am. I'm not looking for sex.

I'm looking for a husband.

A fake one.

My head is spinning. "I'll think of something else." I blame the wine for my irrarional thinking. It's the only excuse I have as to why I even thought of this plan in the first place. Oh and the fact that I have an unnecessary need to please people. My mother as a matter of fact. My dying mother.

"There aren't many options left Roxy. Desperate times calls for desperate measures. And this is one of those desperate times." Her fingers type away on my laptop but I can't even bare to look at th screen.

"Aren't you meant to be doing the whole best friend thing and talking me out of this?" I need someone to talk me out of this.

"I should. But, where's the fun in that?" Scarlet doesn't have to look at me, I know she's grinning from ear to ear, taking great pleasure from my situation.
Scarlet has been my best friend since she offered me a cookie in second grade. Anyone who offers you biscuity goodness should instantly become your best friend. We have been inseparable ever since then.

But right now I'm considering firing her from the Bff status. "You take great joy from my misery don't you? I hate you, you know that right?"

"I love you too sweetcheeks. Now, let's see what we are working with here. I found one that might be quite suitable for you. Reid entertainment, low-key name so that's good. Although Boner Loaners was quite the eye opener, maybe we should go back to that one?"

"Scarlet!"

"Okay, okay. Let's find the future Mr Roxanne Foster."

"I don't want too."

"Rox. You have over a month until your fake wedding date. Don't forget why you are doing this."

Me and my big mouth is why I am doing this. "Ughh fine." I down the rest of the bottle of the prosecco before I take an empty seat next to where Scartlet is perched with my laptop.

You can do this Roxy.

Scar clicks on the profile page and a list of available escorts pop up. None of the profiles have photos. Only names and bios. This is not a good start.

"So this must be like a blind date with an escort. That's exciting." It's not exciting. It's terrifying.

"Im not looking for an anonymous sperm doner Scar, I'm looking for a husband. I got myself into this mess. I need someone that's nice to look at least. Let's pick somewhere else."

"Rox, this is the tenth company we have come across because none have been good enough for you. Not even Max from Just The Tip and you saw how big his dick was. Maybe this one is a hidden gem. Let's just have a look. Let's start with.."

Grey
Age: 30
Occupation: Buisness Owner
Kissing: Yes.
Sex: Let's see where the night takes us.

"I'm already sold on Grey. No need to look any further."

"This is for me remember. Not you. Next."

Tank
Age: 27
Occupation: Firefighter
Kissing: Most definitely
Sex: Yes please.

His name is Tank. That's already a no. He will probably break me.

Dodger
Age: 32
Occupation: Software Developer
Kissing: Yes
Sex: Depends on the price.

We may have a contender with Dodger. But let's keep all my options open, no matter how desperate I've become right now.

Thor
Age: 28
Occupation: Scenic Artist and Model
Kissing: Negotiable
Sex: No

No sex. That's quite perfect. He doesn't want or expect sex. Neither do I. It would be a purely platonic deal. If he accepts.
He won't.
He is going to think I'm a giant fucking lunatic. And he would be right. Because anyone offering thousands of dollars for someone to marry them and be their fake husband for six to nine months, must be going through some sort of mental breakdown. Or a mid life crisis at the grand old age of twenty four.

He will possibly think something is wrong with me. Why can't I find my own husband? One that actually loves me and I didn't have pay good money for.
I ask myself the same questions.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"What do you think?"

"Erm."

"Thor sounds perfect for you. And if he looks like Chris Hemsworth well that's just a bonus. You love that guy. At least try. The worst that could happen is him saying no."

"Then we are back to square one." I hate myself. "Then what?"

"Then I'll marry you. Your mom already loves me." Don't know why I didn't just think of that in the first place. "But I'm sure once he takes a look at you Rox it will be a hard deal to say no to, you're a damn goddess."

"A goddess that can't find herself a man."

"That's not your fault. You just haven't found one that deserves you."

Get yourself a best friend who hypes you up like mine.

I sigh, staring at Thor's profile. This is ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. But Scarlet's right-what's the worst that could happen? He says no, I crawl into a hole of embarrassment, and we go back to scrolling through escort profiles like I'm shopping for a discount husband.

Nothing to lose.

Everything to gain.

"Fine. I'll message the agency."

Scarlet squeals and claps her hands like I just agreed to have her baby. "Yes! This is going to be amazing."

I don't respond. My fingers hover over the keyboard, my heart pounding as reality really starts to set in.

I'm about to ask a complete stranger-a male escort, no less-to marry me. Fake marriage or not, I'll be someone's wife. He'll be my husband.

How do you even phrase something like that?

Hi Thor. I'm looking for a fake husband. Six to nine months, no sex, just vibes. Let me know if you're interested.

Jesus.

I glance at Scarlet, who's practically vibrating with excitement. "You're enjoying this way too much."

"Damn right I am." She winks. "Now type, Roxy. The wedding clock is ticking."

I take a deep breath, then start typing.

Dear whoever it may concern, I would like to hire one of your escorts for tomorrow night. Just a sit down dinner nothing more, nothing less. I'll pay double for his time. Please let me know if a Mr Thor is available. I look forward to hearing from you. Do I sign my real name?
Miss Foster

Before I can overthink it, I hit send.

And just like that, my life is officially spiraling into madness. Meanwhile my best friend finds it absolutely hilarious.

A/N I have had this story in my drafts for so long, like 2 years. It's about time I post it I guess.
Hope you enjoy.