I, Porn Star (I #1) Read Online Free PDF

work
for, Sully Manning, overheard me enquiring about a short term job in the shop
where I bought my phone in Queens. His shrewd pale grey eyes assessed me
throughout my conversation with the shop owner. He followed me outside, scaring
the shit out of me before he said he might be able to help. It took two tries
before I conquered my fear long enough to call the number he gave me.
    Now, as I
approach his office, I wonder if that fear wasn’t justified. Have I been too
trusting? Hunger and terror have a way of messing with your mind. By letting
one overrule the other, have I walked into a trap?
    My feet falter.
Fight or flight spikes adrenaline into my veins.
    Sully sees me
through his window and beckons me with a beefy hand. I look behind me. Should I
make a run for it? How far will I get?
    “Elly! I haven’t
got all day.”
    I press clammy
palms against my pants and present myself in his office doorway.
    “Umm, you wanted
to see me?”
    “Yes,” he snaps.
He’s Irish-Italian with a brusque manner that keeps everyone in the catering
support team in line. He moves a few papers around on his desk before his head
snaps up. “You wanna earn some extra money?”
    “I…yes?”
    He head-tilts. “You
don’t sound sure.”
    I swallow hard,
wonder if this is another acid-trip offer without the actual acid high. “I’m
sure.”
    He nods a grey
head. “Good. Good. Two of my servers have called in sick. Some bullshit stomach
bug or other. I need you to step in.”
    My alarm
escalates. I push it down and manage to nod. “Okay. What…what do you need?”
    “Go see Meg in
the uniform department. She’ll find one of the girl’s outfits for you. You need
to be upstairs in fifteen minutes.”
    I’m glad I don’t
have to answer because sheer terror has overtaken my vocal cords. I belong in
the basement, in the bowels of the earth where no one can see me. I don’t
belong upstairs doing…whatever Sully wants me to do. But I need this job or
starvation will claim me long before Clayton does. Ninety-nine percent of my
cash goes into paying for my shitty, but extortionate, motel room. The owner
chose to overlook my no-name-or-address status in return for a thirty-dollar
a week hike up on normal prices. Right now, I have twenty-two dollars to my
name.
    So I force my
feet to move.
    “Oh, and Elly?”
    I stop. Sully
stares back at me.
    “Remember how you
got here. We all have pasts we don’t want held up to the light. I’m not going
to peek at yours. Return the favor by not letting me down. Deal?”
    I nod. “Deal.”
    He waves me away.
    As I leave to go
in search of Meg, relief punches through me.
    I’ve been rightly
wary about Sully’s motives. He knows I’m hiding something. But unlike Miguel,
he’s chosen to leave well enough alone. For that, I’m glad. Because tossing my
particular closet open will reveal putrefying skeletons.
    The first of
which would explain why I don’t respond well to Elly. Before arriving in New
York no one called me by that name.
    My real name is
Elyse Gilbert, nicknamed ‘Lucky’ by my father,
because according to him, I'm the unluckiest person alive, and I'll die the
same way I came into the world: naked, screaming, and dirt poor.
    So far, he’s been right about the unlucky part. Also dead right about the
dirt-poor part.
    But what he didn’t predict was that at twenty-two, I’d be on the run for
arson and murder. Or that one of my hunters would possess the single goal of
trying to pry my secret from me before he puts me in the ground.

4

 
    SCENE 1

 
    Lucky

 
    I arrive at the
service elevator in my new server’s uniform of black button down dress and a white
apron. I’ve swapped my hairnet for a white mini-cap and my boots for nude
tights and flats courtesy of Meg. If my heart wasn’t slamming so hard against
my ribs, I’d grimace at how ridiculous I look.
    The service
elevator has two buttons— B. Restaurant and B. Executive . My
shaky finger hits the second button. I