The Unintentional Escort GirlChapter 3
Trish Connelly looked in the mirror hanging over the bureau in her bedroom and saw her map of Ireland face staring back at her blankly with her thoughts a million miles away and scattered like the dust bunnies under the kitchen table. Sure, she had plenty of dough stashed in silly places because she didn’t trust banks and the paper trail her hidden wealth would leave for the Internal Revenue System to trace her illegal activities. She had an ass hole buddy accountant to help her with her...