Escort by Mistake (Contemporary BWWM Billionaire Romance)

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Escort by Mistake (Contemporary BWWM Billionaire Romance) Page 7

by Tiana Cole


  Cassidy stood up slowly, unable to think clearly. She thanked him for the vitamins he prescribed before walking out the door to wait for the bus. She needed to get back to the café. She promised Ron she would.

  She gathered her composure as she neared the coffee shop. No one must know about this until she had time to think clearly. Doctor Perry’s words echoed in her mind. She needed to talk to Tristan and tell him she was pregnant. She was unsure about any decision she would make. And the doctor did say she had a couple of weeks should she decide not to go through with it the pregnancy.

  The thought stabbed her heart. This was her baby. The idea of terminating it made her feel like a murderer. But could she give it up for adoption? She shook her chaotic thoughts aside as she entered the door and headed for the counter.

  “Hi, Cass…” Brian greeted her.

  “Hi, Bri…” she replied absentmindedly.

  Just then Ron stuck his head out from the back and saw that she had returned. He approached and asked, “So… what did the doctor say?”

  “Doctor? Who went to the doctor? You, Cass?” Brian asked.

  “I… err… I…”

  Another member of the staff, Melanie, came looking for the tip box and overheard.

  “Are you sick, Cassidy? I thought so. You’ve been looking rotten lately.”

  “Thanks, Melanie…” Cassidy muttered under her breath.

  This was exactly what Cassidy had been avoiding. There were now three people waiting for her reply. She had to think of something fast.

  “Oh, it was nothing. The doctor thinks it’s just a bum stomach and gave me some pills,” she replied, trying desperately for nonchalance.

  “I’m glad it’s nothing then,” Ron replied.

  “Yeah… it's nothing. Probably been eating too much pizza,” Cassidy joked, hoping her chuckle would dismiss the issue and send everybody back to work.

  “Your boyfriend must be a scrooge if that’s all the nosh you eat.” Brian threw in.

  “What boyfriend? Cassidy doesn’t have a guy in her life,” Melanie declared.

  “Boyfriend? Cassidy?” Ron cut in surprise.

  Cassidy’s fear was slowly unfolding before her eyes. Ron’s face was one of reproachful surprise like he had every right to know about it. Melanie was looking at her like she doubted very much if this was true.

  “Oh, you are all so oblivious. Cassidy has a boyfriend. And if it were me, I’d probably hide that fact from all of you,” Brian declared high-handedly.

  Cassidy wanted to hit him with the coffeepot on the counter. She wanted to scream for him to stop, but she was rooted to the spot.

  “Why? What’s wrong with him?” Melanie asked.

  “There’s nothing wrong with him, nitwit,” Brian snorted.

  “Brian, please…” Cassidy begged.

  “Well, if there’s nothing wrong with him, you geek, then how come we’ve never seen him?” Melanie bantered back.

  “Because he drops her off three blocks from the coffee shop. I saw them making out one time inside the car.” Brian was on a roll.

  “Why would he drop you off three blocks away, Cass?” Ron asked, looking at her before focusing his attention back at Brian, “And why do you say that if it were you, you’d do the same thing, too?”

  “Because her boyfriend is Tristan Dell. Maybe she doesn’t want anyone here to know. And he drives a spiffy BMW,” Brain announced with flourish.

  “What’s so great about a BMW?” Melanie asked condescendingly, “My man used to drive a Porsche until I found out it was a stolen car.”

  “What? No… No… you’re mistaken, Brian. His name is Tristan, but it's Tristan Jones, not Dell. And he is a photographer,” Cassidy finally admitted.

  “You’re so full of shit…” Brian retorted with a grin.

  He eyeballed Cassidy, willing her to tell the truth. But her expression hardly changed. Then his expression morphed into one of stunned disbelief as though she had been living under a rock.

  “You really have no idea, do you? Don’t you people ever read anything except the tabloids? Tristan Jones-Dell invented an app that could extract data from any application program interface that provides a developer with programmatic access to a proprietary software application.”

  “Huh?” Melanie and Ron chorused.

  “Every country in the world wants what he has. And Jones-Dell made it a proprietary app, not an open one. That was fuckin’ genius of him. He’s one of the youngest guys to ever be featured in Forbes 500. And he has the biggest storehouse up in Silicon Valley.”

  Cassidy thought she was dreaming. Brian must be out of his mind.

  “Cassidy,” Brian ended, “you just hit the jackpot. Your boyfriend happens to be a goddamn billionaire.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Cassidy! Cassidy!”

  Cassidy jerked out of her trance. She was holding the client ledger in her hand and staring at it without seeing anything at all. The agency manager, Ed, was standing by the table looking at her strangely.

  “I’m, I’m sorry… I didn’t hear you coming,” she apologized.

  He sighed, holding his exasperation at bay.

  “I’ve called your name a couple of times. Is something wrong?” he asked her.

  “No… No, nothing’s wrong. Sorry. I just have a lot on my mind, I guess,” she explained lamely.

  He gave her a look that implied she was walking on thin ice and had better be careful, but his voice was mild, nevertheless stern, when he spoke.

  “Whatever it is, please try and put it aside for now. I need your help. Two of the staff have called in sick, and I need you to pick up the slack.”

  “Of, of course,” she replied, determined to focus on what she had to do.

  “Good. The ledger has all the transactions we make for this week alone. Please go through them thoroughly. We have noticed something for almost two months now. We are getting more business than we used to.”

  Cassidy was confused and asked, “But, but… isn’t that a good thing?”

  “Normally we should be happy about that development. But I noticed that the transactions come from only one person and that raised an alarm. We serve all kinds of rich businessmen. We have wealthy patrons. Some come regularly like once or twice a month needing an escort.”

  Cassidy raised an eyebrow. She knew all that and didn’t understand what the manager was trying to tell her. Edgar continued, pulling the ledger and pointing to one name in particular: John Smith.

  “Pretty common name… and probably an alias,” Cassidy volunteered.

  Giving an alias was common practice, especially if the services required went beyond the usual need for a companion to a social event. That was an open secret, however. The agency allowed it as long as the client paid the agency fees they required. What the girls did and how much they charged for the ‘extra service’ was none of the agency’s business.

  Most of the clients paid through credit cards, giving the agency the background information necessary for their data base. If the client preferred to be anonymous or give an alias, they respected that. Privacy was paramount in this business.

  “This ‘John Smith,’” Cassidy asked, "why do you think there is cause for alarm?”

  Ed flipped through the pages of the ledger all the way to the last two months. John Smith’s name appeared repeatedly. There were some entries that he even came twice on a single day… pun intended.

  Cassidy looked at her manager in shock.

  “Goodness… he’s been here like every single day of the week for the last two months.”

  Edgar nodded his head vigorously, glad she had caught on.

  “Pervert? Have we traced his background through his credit card?” she asked.

  “That’s the problem. We know absolutely nothing. He always pays in cash. But I don’t think he’s a pervert, otherwise some of the girls would have talked about it. More of a sex addict, maybe?”

  Cassidy gasped in surprise. While it could be
nothing, she understood her manager’s concern.

  “Have you spoken to any of the girls he’s taken out? Asked if there was anything to be alarmed about?”

  “No,” he answered and continued with his Eastern European accent. “And this where I need your help. If I go to the girls asking about a certain client, they may think something wrong. I don’t want to cause them any alarm because it may be nothing. But I don’t want to risk not doing anything about it, either. If it you, then they may feel, how do you say? Freer to gossip.”

  Cassidy nodded. She understood what needed to be done. She was familiar with most of the girls and sometimes they talked among themselves.

  “Okay, I‘ll see what I can find out,” she assured the manager.

  “Check the footages on the CCTV camera as well. He’s been here so often, you can probably get a photo of him, too.”

  Cassidy was only too happy to oblige. At least the assignment would give her something else to think about. After yesterday’s bombshell from Brian, her mind had been in a constant fog. She wanted to scream that none of it was true. That Tristan was just an ordinary man who happened to have rich parents. That all he did was take beautiful photographs of ordinary people on the streets. When Brian whipped out his cell phone and Googled Tristan, however, there was no denying the truth. It was there for everyone to see. She couldn’t wrap her head around it. He never told her, never once mentioned what he did outside of his photography.

  She tried to understand what motivated him to keep it a secret. He had every right to keep his life private. But for Christ's sake, they’d been together for almost two months now. He could have said something like, “Oh, by the way, I’m really a billionaire.”

  It didn’t help matters that everyone at the coffee shop was now giving her strange looks like she did something wrong. No one believed that she didn’t know about it. She could almost imagine what everyone must be thinking about her. How did she do it? What did he ever see in her? Was he serious, or was he just toying around with her?

  The other staff gave her a wide berth when she came near, like she was a pariah and not someone they had known for a long time. She even felt guilty that he was so wealthy. As the day wore on, Cassidy could hardly wait to leave the café and go back to her quaint apartment. She had so much to think about, but mainly that she was pregnant with Tristan’s baby.

  She was glad she had to report to the agency today. Hopefully when she returned to the café on Saturday, the furor over her billionaire boyfriend would have died down. Although a sinking feeling in her stomach told her that this wasn’t going away any time soon.

  Cassidy returned her attention to the ledger and noted that John Smith often came during the day. There was hardly any record of him asking for an escort at night.

  Strange… she thought.

  Next, she made a note of the girls he went out with.

  “Melissa, Anastasia, Kimberly, Anna, Tiffany…” she read, going through the names on the list.

  Hmm, he never asked for the same girl twice. Who are you, John Smith? You pay in cash and only go out during the day. What do you do at night? What do these girls have in common since you ask for a different one each time?

  Cassidy studied the names once more, hoping to get a clue. There was something there. She could feel it. She was familiar with most of the girls on the list and knew some of them quite well. Then it suddenly hit her like a ton of bricks. It was staring her right in the face the entire time. All the girls’ names on the list were black.

  “Oh my God,” she muttered to herself.

  She had no idea what John Smith looked like. Was he dark-skinned or Caucasian? There was only one way to find out. She could check his arrivals with the CCTV camera. She picked up the ledger and headed towards the basement where the TV monitors were located.

  She passed a hallway with a series of changing rooms. This was where most of the girls would hang around, doing their makeup or simply gossiping with one another. She spotted one of the girls whose name was on the list.

  Casually, Cassidy sauntered over. She knew most girls were reluctant to talk about their clients. Their turf was sacred territory and fights often ensued over choice clients. It was a policy never to send the same girl twice to an elite client unless the client expressly asked for it. Cassidy had to be very careful and not seem like she was being nosy.

  “Hi, Kim,” Cassidy greeted a tall, svelte girl smoking a cigarette. “How’s your little brother? Is he responding to medication? It’s ALS, right?”

  Kim nodded and blew smoke into the air. “He’s fine, thanks, but I had to buy a new wheelchair for the kid. you know, those types that can move by themselves since his arms are too weak to push. And I had one of them lifts installed on the stairs so he can go up and down by himself. Mom’s gettin' too old to carry him. I don’t want her getting sick too, y’know?”

  Cassidy nodded her head sympathetically. She knew the stories too well, but she needed information and Kim could help. She listened attentively and consoled the girl, making sure not to exaggerate her kindness.

  She placed a reassuring arm around the girl’s shoulder and said, “Hang in there, Kim. Gotta go, the boss man is giving me hell… even threatened to fire me if I can’t come up with background check for a client.” She gave a sigh of defeat and added, “You know how it is. Some of these guys don’t give their real names.”

  “Wait…” Kim called out, “Maybe I can help. What’s his name?”

  Cassidy pretended to look through the ledger and replied, “Um, John Smith? He’s probably on the up and up, but you know Ed. He wants to make sure you girls are protected.”

  “I know him,” Kim replied, pleased to be able to help.

  “You do? That’s great!”

  “That dude is hot and so sexy! Threw money like he owned a bank or something. Treated me really good and gave me a huge tip. I really thought he liked me and would ask for me again, but he never did.”

  “Err, treated you well, like he was respectful and all that stuff?”

  “Yeah… yeah… made sure I ate and was comfortable. You know the type?”

  But Cassidy didn’t know the type she meant.

  “Err… um... did he ask for anything out of the ordinary?”

  “Sure did. It was surreal. Some of those positions were hard to do. And you know what? The guy was tireless. He went on and on and on…”

  Cassidy blanched. She didn’t want to hear anything more about that part of it.

  “Okay, thanks, Kim! You’ve been a great help,” Cassidy replied, running out of the room.

  She composed her thoughts as she descended to the basement floor and entered a room where banks of television sets were mounted on the wall. She chose the CCTV with a view of the reception area. This was where clients waited for the girls to make their appearance.

  Cassidy checked the ledger, searching for the first entry when John Smith began coming to the agency. When she found the date and time, she picked up the remote and pressed the rewind button. This was going to be a while since the date was almost six weeks ago.

  Hot and so sexy… Threw money like he owned a bank… Different positions? Tireless? The guy must be a sex addict! Cassidy concluded.

  There couldn’t possibly any other explanation. He was careful to choose a different girl each time. That meant he was smart… and a potential problem for the agency if he flipped.

  She pressed the ‘pause’ button seconds away from the actual entry on the log before pressing ‘play.’ The image on the screen was blurry. The camera was positioned in a corner of the reception area with a view of the doorway.

  She saw John Smith come in. He wore a baseball cap low over his face. He took a seat with his head bent until an escort came through another door. John Smith removed the baseball cap, looked up at the approaching girl, and stood up to greet her.

  Cassidy froze.

  It was Tristan. There was no mistaking him. She would recognize that face even in the dark.
Her body went numb with shock. A remote part of her brain told it this couldn’t possibly be true. There must be some mistake somewhere. There was no way this John Smith and Tristan were one and the same.

  Fighting the urge to throw up, Cassidy pressed the fast-forward button and checked the next entry. And the next… and the next…

  Powerless to fool herself any longer, Cassidy shut off the monitor and slumped backwards into the chair. Her mind finally gave in to the shock her body felt. She was numb all over and yet she was shaking like a leaf.

  How did all of this happen without her knowledge? Surely he would have slipped up somewhere. She tried to remember how he was when they were together. He always seemed eager to have sex with her. She did too, but only with him.

  Tristan went out with all these women from the agency. And if Kim were to be believed, he had sex with all of them. “Tireless… went on and on…,” the words rang in her head.

  If he had a sexual addiction, what else did she not know about him? He could afford to spend money that much was clear, and Brian’s revelation about him being a billionaire confirmed that fact.

  Oh God, what have I gotten myself into? A sob escaped her lips. And I’m carrying his baby!

  The events of the last two days, finding out she was pregnant, the whispers behind her back at the café, and now this, all of it suddenly took their toll and she slumped onto the table.

  The thought of him with all these women was like a stab into her heart. It made her feel dirty… tainted… insignificant. She wasn’t enough for him. He had to find pleasure with so many other women.

  When the tears came, it was like molten rock that had accumulated, begging for release. Her body trembled as the hot tears streamed down her face. She felt betrayed, lied to, and made a fool.

  She cried for all the times they made love and the sanctuary she felt in his arms. She wept for the words he whispered in her ears. She bawled her heart out because she was willing to believe she'd finally found someone who thought she was special, yet it was all a lie. Tristan was not who she thought he was and the idea horrified her. He was stringing her along. She was an easy lay, someone convenient to have around. And worst of all, she came without a price tag. She even declined his offer to help with her mom’s medical expenses, for Christ's sake. He must be laughing behind her back.

 

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