by C. Morgan
I smiled. “Grady told me I might hear from you. I’m glad you decided to call. Are you taking him up on his offer?”
Another long pause. “I haven’t decided yet. I wanted to get more information about how this whole thing worked before I threw myself into it. I never… I never figured I’d be the kind of guy to hire an escort. I’m sorry. Was that rude?”
I laughed softly. “Not at all. I encourage clients to voice any and all concerns to help them decide whether or not this is a good option for them. Please don’t worry about ruffling feathers or saying the wrong thing. Believe me, I’ve heard it all.”
“I suppose you would have.”
“Let’s start with your name.”
“Rylen.”
I wrote it down on a notepad. “Grady didn’t give me many details, but he did mention if you went ahead with this, you’d need a girl for one week for a wedding in Paris. Is that correct?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Lucky for you, I have several girls who would jump at the opportunity to spend a week in Paris on the arm of a gentleman. And if you’re a friend of Grady’s, I’m confident you’re just that. A gentleman. Am I wrong?”
“The Grady I know is no gentleman.”
I laughed. “Good answer.”
He chuckled too, and I sensed he was beginning to relax. I was experienced in working with men who came to me full of uncertainty and shame. For a normal guy like Rylen, it was definitely unsettling to call an escort service when all they knew about it was, well, shit all. Most of the time, guys like him had the wrong idea and they thought I ran a brothel, not a high-end luxury service with girls who did not have sex with their clients. We weren’t sex workers. We were well-paid companions in push-up bras and high heels.
While I had him on the line, I told him just that. “We’re a group of well-paid professional women, Rylen. No matter which girl you choose, you’re not going to walk into that wedding with a girl who looks like she could be in a porno or something. There’s a huge misconception about what we do for a living and I understand where that comes from, but I want to put your mind at ease. Other guests at the wedding will have no idea you paid your date to accompany you. Or rather that Grady paid them,” I added. “The role of my girls is to make you feel confident and at ease at your event. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“Right.” He still sounded unconvinced.
“Why don’t you come by my office today? We can sit down together and you can get a feel for what we do in person.”
“I work until five o’clock.”
“No problem there. I’ll stay open a little later for you. I have a girl in mind for you. I’ll ask her to stay behind so you can meet her face to face. That might help you feel a bit better about doing business together.”
“I wouldn’t be paired up with you?” he asked.
I blushed. “Oh no darling, I’m sorry. I’m the boss. The big cheese. I don’t go on dates anymore. But rest assured, I’ll set you up with a nice girl who will offer exceptional company as well as turn some heads. That’s a guarantee.”
He sighed. “All right. I’ll be at your office around twenty after five. If I can make it earlier, I will.”
“No rush, Rylen. I’m a busy woman. I’ll take advantage of those extra twenty minutes. I’m looking forward to meeting you in person.”
“Likewise,” he said, but it didn’t sound like he meant it.
We ended the call and I sat back to play the conversation over in my head.
He’d sounded sad. Detached. Normally, men came to the table with enthusiasm about taking a beautiful woman out to show off to their friends and sometimes family. But this guy? He sounded like he was going to the gallows.
I supposed it made sense, seeing as how he was going to his ex-wife’s wedding and all. Grady had told me the guy still wasn’t over her.
Poor sucker, I thought before resolve settled over me. I’d show him just how much of a difference one of my girls could make to his confidence. With my help, he’d walk into that wedding with his head held high, and with a little luck and a little bravado, we just might be able to make that ex of his a little jealous.
I smiled at my own devilish nature. I couldn’t help myself sometimes. I loved playing karma, and karma loved working with me because I was a woman who got shit done.
Chapter 10
Rylen
Diagonal parking spaces lined the street with the address Grady had given me for Natalie’s escort business. Every single spot was full. This was a hustle and bustle part of the city. Women flitted from nail appointments to their hair-salon appointments three doors down. Men popped into high-end tailors to pick up suits or be measured for them. Couples plunged into cute cafes in droves, emerging into the dim light of dusk with holiday coffees and smiles. Children emerged from the daycare on one block corner with parents who looked rundown and disengaged but still managed to grin and nod as their child told them about their day.
And what was I doing?
I was the guy looking to hire an escort. In all this innocent chaos, I was the one with the untraditional agenda.
After circling back down the block a couple of times, I finally landed a parking spot. The truck was a tight squeeze but I scored a spot two doors down from the backlit red sign for On His Arm. Beside the words was a silhouette image of a curvy woman holding a man’s arm. She wore a long dress and he wore a suit. It wasn’t a trashy-looking place. Not at all.
I put the truck in park and leaned forward against the steering wheel to peer up at the place.
It was decked out for Christmas. Tinsel and Christmas ornaments dangled in front of red velvet curtains that hung in front of the windows. Properly aimed lights caught the glitter on the ornaments and the shimmer of the faux-frosted windowpane.
Through the front door, I spied a gothic black chandelier dripping with illuminated crystals. And deeper into the office, what appeared to be a candle flame flickered on a dark surface. Aside from that, all I could see of the interior was shadow.
“You just have to buck up and go in,” I muttered to myself as I killed the ignition. “If you hate it, you walk out. No big deal. Nobody you know is going to see you around this part of town.”
Nevertheless, I looked both ways down the street before getting out of my truck and approaching the door. I hesitated but only for a moment before pulling it open and stepping into the shadowy, sultry, peppermint-smelling office.
On His Arm felt more like a sexy and glamorous lounge than a business space. I’d been right about the candle. It flickered and danced on a black desk with a glass top, which picked up on the reflection of the flame. The walls boasted several framed illustrations of a slender woman with short hair who I was fairly certain was Audrey Hepburn.
There was nobody there.
Behind the desk was a deep red velvet curtain exactly like the ones in front of the shop windows. There was about two feet of space on each side, and I’d have easily been able to peer around them into the back, but I didn’t want to cross any lines, so I opted for the safer route and called a timid hello into the office.
The sound of approaching heels clicking on the dark floors made my stomach roll with nerves.
There was no going back now. This was it. Grady had pushed me into yet another potentially disastrous and humiliating situation. I prayed like hell this didn’t go as badly as my imagination suggested it might.
A woman came around the curtain. She stopped when she saw me, one hand holding back the velvet panel, and smiled. When she spoke, her voice reminded me of a crackling fireplace and a sleepy morning. “You must be Rylen.”
I cleared my throat and tried to compose myself.
This woman was incredibly beautiful. She was unlike anyone I’d ever seen. She had red hair, but I wondered if it was actually lighter and only appeared darker in this dim lighting. She had the fair features, freckles, and green eyes of a natural redhead. Her lips were full and ruby red and hard not to stare at as they pur
sed in a delicate smile.
“I am,” I finally managed. “And you must be Natalie.”
She let the curtain fall and stepped the rest of the way through it, one thick thigh at a time. She was dressed in a silky black dress with a slit up the right side that almost cut all the way up to her hip, showing a bit of dark green lace underneath and over top of a pair of sheer black nylons. She screamed expensive sex—and unattainable sex. A woman like her would never be caught with a guy like me.
Natalie strode around the desk and held out a hand. She had thin wrists and dark colored nails. “It’s nice to finally meet you in the flesh. Grady never told me you were so handsome.”
I found her grip surprisingly firm. “Yeah well, Grady doesn’t like to give anyone besides himself any praise.”
She laughed softly. It was a melodic sound. “You know him well, then?”
“Better than most.”
“You poor thing.”
I chuckled. Just like that, she’d eased my anxiety over this whole thing. She was a normal woman. Beautiful, dangerously so in my opinion, and edgy, but normal.
“Come to the back with me and we can have a seat and chat about things,” Natalie said.
I followed her back behind the curtain where the rest of her office revealed itself. There were more minimalist paintings of Audrey Hepburn and another candle flickering on a coffee table amongst a smattering of velvet armchairs. She took one and I fell into the one across from her.
Natalie crossed one thigh over the other. The slit in her dress made the fabric glide off her nylons and rest along the front of the chair, exposing a whole lot of leg. She didn’t bat an eye. Instead, she clasped her hands together over her knee. “Did you have a chance to review the documents I had Grady send over to you?”
The documents. Did she mean the novel of precautions and requirements that needed to be signed in order to do business with her company?
“Yes, I did,” I said slowly.
“And?”
“It was all a bit extreme, don’t you think?”
She smiled graciously. “There is no such thing as extreme safety measures in my line of work. Only necessary ones. I take the protection of my girls very seriously.”
“Right.”
Duh, you idiot. I should have known that. Obviously, this was going to be a different ball game than booking a private massage or signing a waiver for a new gym membership.
Natalie hooked a thumb over her shoulder and pointed at a wine fridge against the wall. “Can I get you a refreshment? Sparkling water? Iced green tea? We might even have some white wine in there.”
“No, thank you,” I said, still feeling a little too out of sorts to accept a drink.
She nodded. “Let me know if you change your mind. I’m sorry, I know I told you I would have a girl for you to meet tonight, but she was unable to stay late. I do, however, have some pictures we could review. Do you have something in mind?”
“In mind?”
Natalie reached under the coffee table. A low shelf held what looked like a box of matches, two more candles stacked one on top of the other, a pile of magazines, and a black leatherbound photo album. The latter was what she pulled out and laid on the top of the table.
“Yes,” she said as she flipped the front cover open and turned the album around to me. “Do you have a type when it comes to women?”
I stared blankly at her.
Natalie giggled. “Blonde? Brunette? Short? Tall? Thin? Full? We have girls of all sizes and all ethnicities here. Please don’t worry about offending me. We all have our preferences. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that, especially when this service isn’t pairing you up with a soul mate. It’s for a one-night companion. Well, in your case, a one-week companion.”
Did I have a type? The only woman I’d ever loved was Mona.
I shrugged. “I guess short brunettes kind of do it for me.”
“Kind of do it for you?” Natalie mused. “Rylen, we can do better than that.”
If I’d been more like Grady, I’d have been able to look her in the eye and tell her she was my type. I hadn’t known it until I saw her, but it was the truth. She had eyes I couldn’t look away from and lips that lusted to be kissed. She was more woman than I’d ever know what to do with, but I could dream that I’d know where to put my hands.
Natalie flipped open the second page, where two pictures of the same girl stared up at me. The picture on the left was a headshot. The girl was stunning. She had almond-shaped deep brown eyes, dark skin, high cheekbones, a wide nose, and sleek black hair. She was Native American to be sure with a strong jawline and a sharp, bold stare. In the picture on the right, she was posed in a full body shot. She wore a simple black dress that showed off her long legs. A pair of strappy black heels wove halfway up her calves.
“This is Halyn,” Natalie said. “She’s been with me for almost two years now. She’s a charming girl with a big personality and a great sense of humor. She loves to laugh. Almost every client who has ever booked her calls back and books her again. That’s rare in this line of work when men are always on the hunt for someone new and most often blonde.”
“She’s quite stunning,” I said. Then I frowned.
“What’s wrong?”
“Something feels weird about judging these women based on pictures alone. I was raised…” I trailed off. I didn’t need to go on about how my parents had raised me better than that. How I’d been taught to look for the depth in people. This wasn’t the time or place for such things.
Natalie reached across the table and put her hand on my wrist. “I know this is out of your wheelhouse, Rylen. And that’s okay. But these girls? They choose this. They make an incredible living doing this. They don’t cross any boundaries. They go on dates with men who respect them and compensate them appropriately for their time and company. Trust me. You aren’t doing anything wrong by picking a girl based on who you find most attractive.”
Nice words, sure, but I was still uneasy as Natalie continued flipping through more pictures. She showed me American girls, British girls, Brazilian girls, Indian girls, Chinese girls, and black girls.
By the time we reached the end of the album, I was overwhelmed.
Natalie closed the book. “So, what do you think? Did any of them speak to you?”
Not really. But Natalie herself felt familiar. Yes, she was a complete stranger, but she felt trustworthy to me. She wasn’t a one-dimensional photo tucked behind a laminated overlay. She was right here. She was flesh and blood.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t consider coming to the wedding with me?” I asked boldly.
Natalie studied me for a minute. The corner of her lips curled in a smile. “I’ve been out of the game for quite a few years, Rylen. I think this girl here would be much better suited for you. Her name is Penny.” She turned back a few pages to a pretty blonde with a girl-next-door vibe. “She’s sweet and beautiful and would definitely make your ex-wife scratch her head when she saw you walk into the wedding with her on your arm.”
I frowned.
“You’re not convinced?” Natalie asked, her head cocked to the side.
Not even close. After two years of feeling like I was flailing around lost at sea, I finally saw something that I wanted. And she was sitting right across from me.
I leaned forward. “Think about it. A one-week trip to Paris. A chance to attend an all-expenses paid extravagant winter wonderland wedding. Plenty of free time to explore the city. And hey, the best part? Showing up with the guy everyone is going to be talking about. Literally. You’ll have a front-row seat to the most awkward wedding of all time, and better yet, you’ll be with the most awkward guy at the wedding.”
Natalie grinned. “Aren’t I the salesperson in this scenario?”
“As a salesperson, I’d think you’d recognize a good deal when it falls into your lap.”
She laughed. The sound was so damn sexy and I intended to hear it as many times as I possibly could.
Natalie got to her feet. “I’ll tell you what. You go home and sign the paperwork. Think about the girls, and in the meantime, I’ll consider your offer.”
She led me out past the curtain to the front door.
“Are you just saying that to get me out of here?” I asked.
She opened the door and held it ajar for me. A soft giggle left her as I passed her by. “You’ll never know, darling. We’ll talk soon.”
Chapter 11
Natalie
Victoria sipped her hazelnut latte as we made our way down the block to the office on Tuesday morning. “So, how did your after-hours meeting go with that new guy? What’s his name? Riley?”
“Rylen,” I amended. “It was good. He’s not the kind of guy who would usually book our services, so it was obvious that he was uncomfortable. And bless him, I think he fell in love with me the minute he saw me.”
“So humble.”
“I don’t mean it as a brag.” I sipped my peppermint mocha. Glorious, every time. “But when I came around from behind the curtain, you should have seen his face. I felt like I could have been a playboy girl or something, the way he was looking at me. It’s… it’s been a while since a man saw me that way. Sitting behind the desk leaves less room to be desired, you know? I guess I’d forgotten how it felt.”
“You’re an absolute babe, Nat,” Victoria insisted. “And he sounds like a suburban average Joe. Of course, you blew his damn mind. You’ve got curves that would make the devil’s eyes pop out of his head.”
I snickered before shaking my head. “I don’t think he’s an average Joe.”
“No? A basic Ben, then?”
I shot her a look. “Don’t be mean.”
“I’m not. We need basic dudes to make the world go round.” Victoria fished her keys out of her purse when we reached the office, unlocked the door, and shouldered her way inside. Like every other morning, we discarded our jackets on the coat rack, put our purses down by the desk, and turned on the computer. Then we made our way behind the curtain to sit and sip our coffees. “I think you’re onto something with sending Penny out with him. She won’t overwhelm him, you know? She’s just the right amount of sweet and funny for a guy like that to handle without fading to the background beside her.”