A Model Escort

by Amanda Meuwissen

  Of course. He’d been in enough public spaces with Owen for his clients to have caught on, but he’d always prided himself on keeping each of them separate and special unto themselves. “When I’m with you, you are all I—”

  “Shush. Don’t disrespect me with lies no one would buy.” Grabbing his chin, she held firm, dominant without ever being rough. “At first I found it curious, but your attention was still on me when I had you in my bed. Now it is with him, and I do not believe I can win you back.”

  While Cal struggled for how to respond, she released him and swung her legs off his hips to leave the bed.

  “Selene…,” he protested as she moved to untie the scarves.

  “I can find another partner. My needs are more easily met than what you desire to fill the emptiness in your eyes. Go home. Your payment is still yours for tonight.” She was the picture of ease considering the position they’d been in moments before, her hands swift but kind while undoing his bonds. “We do not control where our hearts wander. Perhaps you have a recommendation for a replacement?”

  Cal knew Prince had a temper when it came to matters of personal justice or her people while working as an ambassador. He’d overheard a few severe phone conversations in various languages. But in situations like this, she was picturesque and admirable, which was part of why he’d accepted her as a client.

  He sat up in bed after he was free, feeling strangely small and naked, considering his shorts had never left him.

  “I… yes. Several,” he said. He could think of at least three escorts who would suit Prince well, but he knew he’d disappointed her. She slipped on a red robe, tied loosely at her waist, and twisted her hair up into a swift bun, while her eyes traced his body with a hunger he’d always adored. “My apologies.”

  “You have nothing to apologize for. You always pleased me,” she said, coming forward to sit beside him. “I would not want our last meeting to sully those nights together.”

  He’d let Owen into his head, let him disrupt his routine, his work, yet he was relieved Prince had called him on it. Still, it stung because: “I can’t have him the way I want.”

  “No? Perhaps you are wrong, perhaps not. Either way, you aren’t here tonight, so go.” She reached for his face once more to feather fingers along his cheek. “Be alone with your desires until you decide which to pursue. If you darken my door again, I will welcome you. If not….” Leaning forward, she used the barest pressure to draw Cal toward her and kissed him soundly in goodbye. “I hope it means you found something worthwhile.”

  “I CAN’T believe you didn’t tell me about this guy right away.” Mario was worse than Alyssa sometimes when it came to petulance over being left out of the loop.

  Or, Owen supposed, lied to.

  “I didn’t know what I wanted when I first started seeing him,” Owen said. “There was nothing to tell.”

  “Seeing an escort on the regular is a thing to tell your best friend.”

  “I did tell you. Eventually.”

  Owen was at Walker Tech, ready to head home as he navigated the hallways and only talking hushed with Mario over the phone because his friend had been sending anxious text messages ever since their previous call was interrupted by Cal the other night. There were rumors going around the office that Owen had slept his way to his last position and was doing the same here—and at Nye Industries. He didn’t need anyone overhearing his phone conversation about an escort when some people already whispered about Cal.

  “Let me find a quiet corner.” He cut Mario off from questioning him further. Normally, he’d tell his friend to call back later, but he needed another opinion. His mind had only been half on work for the past two days.

  There were several quiet corners Owen knew about, both for recharge time when he needed to clear his mind and for fielding phone calls like this. He just needed to reach one, which happened to take him by the main conference room with clear glass walls looking directly inside.

  Where Harrison was meeting with more of the development team.

  “Harry’s here.” He skidded to a stop.

  “Right now? Tell him I will kick his ass if—”

  “He’s in a meeting,” Owen hissed into his phone. “Crap, it’s ending. He saw me.”

  And he had the gall to smile all sweet and hopeful at Owen through the glass.

  Dick.

  No, Owen was the bigger man. He was giving Harrison the benefit of the doubt. He just didn’t want to talk to him—ever. So, he nodded curtly and hurried on his way while returning to the conversation over the phone.

  “Have you talked to him yet?” Mario asked.

  “Not since he ambushed me at work the first time.”

  “No, I mean Cal.”

  Owen sighed at the thought. Two days felt like forever with only emails between them. “Not yet. I need to see him in person, but he’s been… booked.”

  “Sleeping with other people.”

  “It’s what he does.”

  “And that doesn’t bother you?”

  “Not on principle.” Owen clutched his phone tighter, trying to keep his voice soft with strained smiles given to the few people he passed. “Just the thought of anyone else touching him….”

  “Owen,” Mario admonished.

  “I know, okay? This is a mess. But when you love someone, you have to let them live the life they want, not have them cater to what you’d make of them.” It was one of Lorelei’s many poignant lessons he’d taken to heart, because Harrison hadn’t done that for him.

  “Dude, I agree with you, you know I agree with you, but… did you just say you love him?”

  Owen stopped like he had when he saw Harrison, then realized he’d come upon one of his favorite hidden nooks and ducked into it, a tiny hallway with a bathroom no one used and a stairwell for emergencies. He couldn’t deny how easily that admission had left him.

  “Shit. I am in love with him.”

  “Shit,” Mario agreed.

  Owen had the sudden feeling that someone was nearing his hiding spot, listening in or watching, but when he peered out into the hallway, he didn’t see any shadows looming. He must be imagining things.

  “If you really love this guy and being with him is what you want,” Mario said, “I’ll support you, man. I just don’t want to see you hurt again. All those years with Harry….”

  “I know. But Cal isn’t Harry.” Even if part of Owen had chosen Cal because of his age and poise and style being similar, everything else about him was solely Cal, and those were the things he loved about him. “If I love him, it has to mean I’ll love him even if he only wants to be friends. Or if he does feel the same but wants to keep doing his job. I wish I could have him all to myself.” He leaned back against the wall and imagined how wonderful that would be. “But as long as he could be mine because he wants to be with me, I think I could be okay with him being an escort forever.”

  CAL could not be an escort forever. Right now, he didn’t want to be one at all.

  He had to see Piper tonight. He and Owen hadn’t even talked yet and he had no idea where they stood, but the last thing he wanted was for anyone other than Owen to touch him, especially after being let off the hook with Prince.

  He’d forgone the usual errands he’d attend to during the day and secluded himself in his apartment ever since she sent him home. He knew what he wanted, but he doubted it would matter if Owen was planning to drop him after this weekend. If there was some dramatic gesture he could carry out to change that, he’d try anything, but he couldn’t rely on his usual seductions. Everything was so much harder when feelings were involved.

  A knock at the door surprised Cal. He’d wasted the day away debating what to do. Soon he’d have to get ready to see Piper, since calling in sick was not an option.

  Heading for the door, he assumed it was mail put in someone else’s box or some other bland interruption, but he realized his mistake when he yanked the door open to find Rhys on the other side.

 
“I pulled the plug.”

  “What?” Cal gawked, having no idea what he was talking about.

  “Frost.” Rhys pushed past him into the apartment, more animated than usual, which was saying something for Rhys. “I told her I loved her, then went straight to Nick of Time to give up my last client and told Dick to shove it if he has a problem.”

  Cal pivoted slowly after shutting the door, gawk far more prominent. “You’re quitting?”

  “Course not,” Rhys snorted. “I love this gig. Just stickin’ to actual escort clients from now on. Dani wouldn’t ask me to change, but I wanna be all hers—only hers. Told her that, told her what I wanted, and damn can that girl kiss.”

  Cal couldn’t keep the smile from his face when he saw the way Rhys lit up talking about her. “Dani?” He called him on the casual drop of his client’s name.

  Rhys sobered, then shrugged like he’d come this far so there was no reason to hold back. “Danielle. Doll’s a doctor.”

  Cal chuckled. He and Rhys didn’t share, they exchanged crib notes more than the deep recesses of their hearts, but it was oddly freeing. “Owen,” he said to keep them even. “The one busy saving Atlas City.”

  “Quinn?” Rhys sputtered after turning that over. “Damn, he’s Scarlet, huh?”

  “Apparently, we’re in at least one society article together.”

  “Like I read that shit. Good on you, though. Wait, so yer quittin’?”

  “No,” Cal answered reflexively, finally moving from the door. Then he had to wonder. “I don’t know. I don’t think he wants me. I want him, but he… he backed away like my lips gave him freezer burn.”

  No, they didn’t share. It wasn’t the sort of friends they were, at least not without a few shots between them, but still Rhys asked, “What happened?”

  So Cal told him—everything about the night he finally stole a kiss. “He means well, but he can’t see past what I am.”

  “That is the stupidest thing I ever heard,” Rhys said.

  “He didn’t want to kiss me,” Cal growled. “I pushed, with a client, against the arrangement we’d made, and he backed off like he couldn’t get away fast enough.”

  “Yeah, coz it was a paid night, idiot.”

  “That’s what I’m saying. He doesn’t want to be with someone who sells themselves, no matter how much he wishes it didn’t bother him.”

  “Or”—Rhys leaned menacingly into his space—“he didn’t want to kiss you on a night he paid you coz he was afraid that was the only reason you did it.”

  The air rushed from Cal’s lungs even as he opened his mouth to counter, until nothing could be said other than, “I’m an idiot.”

  “Yer an idiot.”

  “I’m seeing Piper tonight.” He stared at Rhys wide-eyed. “I can’t see Piper tonight.”

  “Listen, pal”—Rhys picked up on the rational side since, for once, Cal was the one flailing—“Dick’s gonna be pissed. Maybe Piper too. But yer head’s already outta the game. You got it bad. Time ya did somethin’ about it.”

  “Easy for you to say. Your gamble paid off.”

  “Well I am prettier than you.” Rhys smirked, encompassing everything Cal loved about his friend. “But I’m sure the universe’ll give ya a break.”

  Pretty was not one of Rhys’s traits, but he was almost never wrong, and if he could admit when he’d fallen for a client, who was Cal to pretend otherwise or deny the evidence that Owen might want him in return? It didn’t mean the universe had his back, but it did mean that thoughts of Owen didn’t merely follow him to Piper’s door; they led the way.

  He’d been practicing since the moment he left home how to explain to the young musician that they would not be going through their normal routine tonight. Cal even had a few replacements at the ready. He had the power to drop any client he wished, but he owed Piper more than that after so long together, never a disappointment, never a problem. He didn’t want things to end sourly between them.

  Mouth poised to talk instead of kiss as soon as the door opened, Cal’s words were stolen by the sight of Piper. Normally, he answered his door in simple clothing, maybe even a robe, since he’d be showering for the concert after their encounter, but tonight Piper was smartly dressed and already smelling of aftershave.

  “Heading to the concert early?” Cal asked, though Piper wasn’t wearing his tux. He didn’t look surprised like he’d forgotten Cal was coming either.

  “I don’t have a concert tonight,” he said.

  “You don’t?” If Piper had his heart set on experimenting, he was going to be much harder to let down gently.

  “Come here, handsome. Let’s chat.”

  Cal should head this off now and explain before Piper went into detail about the carnal activities he had planned. He wasn’t prepared for what Piper actually said once they sat on the sofa.

  “I want a job.”

  “Excuse me?” Cal tried to process that statement. “Doing what?”

  “With you. I want a job at the agency.”

  “You….” For a moment, Cal was floored. Then all the ways Piper tried to immerse himself in anything his parents deemed unseemly came to the forefront, and he stared back unimpressed. “We don’t take bratty kids who just want to piss off Mommy and Daddy.”

  “Please. That’s just a bonus. I’m done with the philharmonic. I want more freedom with my schedule and entertainment for my evenings—with a paycheck. Of course it means we wouldn’t see each other anymore, which would be a huge loss.” He trailed his fingers down Cal’s arm. “Though… maybe…?”

  “I don’t sleep with coworkers.” Cal put that notion to bed, much as he appreciated the young man’s pluck. “A working relationship would be the end for us. Though I suppose I could help you get started, find the right clientele for an initial spread, put in a good word with the CEO….”

  It was crazy—a client asking for a referral to become an escort—but if anyone could do it, Piper was a prime candidate. Not only was he attractive, he was also well-educated, well-dressed, and very well-versed in the bedroom.

  “You’re serious?” Cal pressed. “Because I wouldn’t offer a recommendation if I didn’t think you’d make an excellent addition to the catalog, but I also need to know this isn’t some game.”

  “I’m serious.” Piper nodded eagerly.

  Maybe the universe was on Cal’s side. He wished he could rush right over to Owen’s apartment, free and clear of all his clients, but their reunion would have to wait. Tonight Cal had to make his exit plan, and being able to offer Piper as a replacement would ease Dick’s reaction significantly.

  “Your evening’s free?” Cal asked.

  “All yours,” Piper said.

  “Then listen up, coz I am taking you in tomorrow morning, and you need to be ready to impress the boss.”

  PART of Owen had hoped Cal would be able to see him before the gala. Another part was glad he’d had more time to think about what to say, especially since he’d purposely gotten a new tux without Cal’s help—though he had used Dennis—so he could surprise him. He wanted to make Cal’s jaw drop for once.

  It was just a normal tux, simple black with a white shirt, but it fit him flawlessly, very James Bond. Owen had debated wearing his gold glasses again but decided the black ones made more sense with black tie. He’d gotten a haircut, brunet poof coifed to perfection, wore new cologne, had on his nicest watch. He looked good. Even he could admit that.

  A timely knock at the door finally came, and Owen took a breath before opening it that immediately caught in his throat.

  Cal was stunning. He also wore a black tux, but his shirt was deep navy. The glasses were back for his “White” persona as Owen’s publicist, and the gray wool coat Owen remembered from their first meeting pulled it all together.

  Yet, as gorgeous as he looked, Owen had succeeded, because Cal stood gaping too.

  “Well done, Owen. You’ll turn every head at the party.”

  “Y-you too.”


  Common sense fled Owen when he was this nervous, so the déjà vu continued as he forgot to invite Cal in right away but kept staring. With a chuckle as he caught himself and gestured Cal inside, the awkward pause that stretched between them was near unbearable until both he and Cal started speaking at the same time.

  “Look, I’m sorry for how I—”

  “Owen, I need you to understand—”

  They cut off, laughed at how ridiculous they were being, and tried again.

  “You first,” Cal said.

  All of Owen’s practicing amounted to a single phrase. “I’m sorry I made things weird.”

  “I’m sorry I did.”

  “It wasn’t because of your job.”

  “I know. I’m sorry that, for a moment, I thought otherwise.” Taking Owen’s hand with slow, telegraphed movements, Cal lifted it to his lips and kissed the back of his fingers, causing Owen to blush deeply scarlet. “Why don’t we pretend that evening between friends happened only last night and tonight… is also unpaid.”

  “What? You don’t have to—”

  “I want to enjoy tonight as friends. So we know that anything that happens is only what we both want.” Dropping Owen’s hand between them, Cal held on to his fingertips. “Then later, after the gala, when we have more time, there are some things I want to discuss with you. Okay?”

  “Good things?” Owen asked, as goose bumps prickled along his arms beneath the tux.

  “I hope so,” Cal said.

  Owen’s heart was beating so fast he almost surged forward to kiss Cal right then. But no. Not yet. After they talked, which he was suddenly very much looking forward to. “O-okay.”

  Like a true gentleman, when Cal at last released Owen’s fingers, he offered his arm instead. “Shall we?”

  Owen grabbed his jacket from the rack by the door and accepted Cal’s arm, feeling the heavy weight on his shoulders finally lift.

  This part they had down—attending an event together, wowing the crowd, mostly with Cal doing the wowing and Owen playing catch-up, but they balanced each other well. Cal had even prepared several notes for Owen in case he was asked to say a few words during the announcement. He never would have been able to write his own speeches.