by Tiana Cole
Back at her room at the Y, Cassidy finally had a moment to collect herself before her first night of work. She took off her new dress and hung it carefully. She slipped out of the stilettos and padded to the bed. She picked up the travel robe her mom had given her made out of some fibers that didn’t wrinkle no matter what. She plopped down on the bed and lay back, her head on the pillow. If she stayed like this she wouldn’t make a mess of the beautiful artistry Sheena had painted on her face.
She reached into her bag, pulled out her wallet, and thumbed to the picture of Dee. “Well, baby, this is it,” she talked to the photo.
She imagined Dee happy and making those baby sounds, playing on her dad’s lap with mom busy doing something in the kitchen. This was her start to making a life for herself and Dee. She knew she was missing precious moments as her daughter changed every day. Babies grew so quickly, and Dee was no exception. She looked into her grey-green eyes in the photo. I’m doing this for you, Dee. Soon we’ll be together.
She’d never imagined herself… ever… as an escort. This was just the beginning until she found something she could tell Dee about. Now it was time to fulfill every part of her plan. She took one more look at the photo, kissed it tenderly, and then folded up her wallet and tucked it away. She pulled out her notebook and started writing.
Look, Cassidy, I don’t have all day to wait for your decision, but here’s one thing I can assure you: as soon as you step out that door, someone else will come in and snap up the job. It’s your call.
It was the first time she’d ever included herself in her notebook. Before she had always written about other people. She copied down their patterns of speech, or a joke, or a question phrased in a way she wouldn’t have thought of. That, or she’d write physical descriptions and then gone on to create personality traits. Here, for the first time, she’d written about herself.
She started writing all the confusing feelings she’d had that day. She’d seen Tristan and felt the physical surge of desire and the stark pain of betrayal. She’d found a job, then discovered it wasn’t what she had thought, and now she was waiting for her first night as an escort. Was she sophisticated enough to carry it off? Could she be playful, pert, and intelligent with a complete stranger even if she didn’t particularly like him as a person? She put down her pen and stopped writing.
She drifted off to a swirl of questions and was awoken by a knock on the door.
“Yes?”
“Hey, it’s Fred. Fred from the front desk.”
She’d paid for a week. What could he want? She got up and fastened the robe tightly around her body. She crossed the small room and opened the door.
“Hey, Fred. What is it?”
Fred was in his early twenties. He was the kind of guy who looked scruffy even when he was straight from the shower and wearing clean clothes, which he appeared to be right now.
“I saw you come in a while back. You looked hot. I mean really hot, baby.” He paused for a second searching for the next words. “I thought we could… you know…”
“No,” Cassidy stated emphatically. “I appreciate the compliment, but you’ve got the wrong idea, Fred. I paid for the room. We’ll leave it at that. No interpersonal fraternization… of any kind. Okay? Got it?”
Fred, looking mildly disappointed and nodded his head.
“Okay, then,” Cassidy said as she shut the door and turned the flimsy lock.
Whew! Life in the city. She decided she’d be very careful about separating her new job and anything else that happened in her life. Coming or going, she’d be in low heels with a coat concealing whatever she was wearing. She had to see about getting a locker at the agency. She never wanted this to happen again… ever.
She looked at the time and realized she needed to get ready for her first night of work as an escort. She slipped off the robe, carefully removed her new dress from the hanger, and slipped it over her head. In the room’s tiny mirror, she adjusted the dress around her body. She turned around and looked over her shoulder. Yes, she looked good. She turned back and brought her face close to the mirror.
Her dark curls were full and framed her face with her new haircut. She fluffed her hair. She studied the lines of the make-up Sheena had applied with such skill. The arched eyebrows, the shaded lids, the dark mascara framing her brown eyes. Somehow the blush on her cheeks highlighted her bone structure without looking as though she had painted cheeks. The dark ruby lipstick brought out the fullness of her lips. She’d never realized before what a difference make-up could make.
After all the work Sheena had done, she didn’t look painted. The make-up enhanced her features without being noticeable as make-up. She had to admit she looked good. Sheena had given her a small compact of the lipstick and a retractable lip brush. She pulled them out and refreshed her lips.
She took one more good look in the mirror and liked what she saw, then retrieved a long coat from the closet. She looked around the tiny, grim room. One glance was motivation enough to get out of there as soon as possible. Fred just added to that motivation.
She took a breath and whispered to Dee. Okay, here we go, baby child.
Chapter Twelve
The look Ms. Tillie gave her was nothing short of incredulous.
“Oh my God!”
“You like?” Cassidy teased, pirouetting like a runway model.
“Uh-huh. You look sensational!”
“Thanks for the tip. I found this dress at the boutique, and Sheena volunteered to do my make-up. Good thing, too, as I probably would have just washed my face and called it good to go," Cassidy laughed.
“Make-up should be your friend. Look at you. You came in this morning looking like a girl. Now you look every bit a woman.”
“Well… too bad all these things will just go to waste. I’ll probably sit out the whole night. You know, being new and all.”
Ms. Tillie had a twinkle in her eye when she replied, “That’s where you’re wrong. I have someone for you tonight.”
“You do?” Cassidy answered, alarm in her voice.
Even if she had agreed and signed the contract, she wasn’t really sure if she’d go through with this. She had managed to compose herself with the thought that tonight she’d make friends with some of the girls and learn from them. Ms. Tillie’s announcement threw her off guard.
“Yup, the guy is a regular and all the girls say he is great. Pays well, too. The girl I sent over this morning didn’t work out, but he took her to lunch and paid her just the same.”
“What went wrong with the girl this morning?” Cassidy was curious to know. That would be just her luck rejected on her first date.
“Probably not his type… I don’t know. You’ll have to find out for yourself. And, oh… by the way, he sent cab fare and the address where you’ll meet him. Here!”
Cassidy accepted the small piece of paper with trembling fingers.
“Cassidy, I know you’re nervous but I think this guy is perfect for you. That’s why I decided to send you to him.”
“Perfect? Why is that? I mean, you don’t really know me. We just met earlier today.”
Ms. Tillie smiled. “Cassidy, I’ve seen a lot of girls in this business. You’re young, beautiful, and starving for work. All the girls tell me he is not only a gentleman but truly interested in who they are as a person. Two of them even used the word respectful. I don’t know of a better recommendation for a first date. Plus, he likes women of color. I think he prefers dark glamour. You are just the ticket.”
Cassidy swallowed the lump in her throat, nodded her head, and thanked Ms. Tillie who handed her cab money. She headed outside and hailed a passing taxi.
“The Carlton House, please.”
Cassidy had never been to The Carlton, but knew it was one of the most coveted residential addresses in NYC. The man must be rich. She wondered why he would need an escort for the night. And what happened with the girl Ms. Tillie sent earlier? She had simply said, “it probably didn’t work out.”
Cassidy wondered what that meant. What did the guy want that the escort couldn’t give him? The thought was slightly unsettling.
Cassidy was mesmerized by the collection of haute couture ateliers and boutiques as they passed Madison Avenue. This area was among the world’s most fashionable shopping destinations for the rich and famous, and just a stone’s throw away from Central Park.
She recognized the brick and limestone exterior of The Carlton House as the cab came to a stop. She paid and stepped out onto the pavement, willing her heart to stop beating wildly inside her chest.
A white-gloved concierge opened the door that led to the lobby, its marbled mosaic floors reflecting the modern architectural lights hanging from a domed ceiling. Muted sofas in mink and pearl colors were clustered strategically around a gas-fed fireplace. Cassidy tried to ignore the unease she felt in such luxurious surroundings as she approached a receptionist behind an alabaster desk.
“The penthouse, please…” Cassidy muttered, looking at the piece of paper with the address written on it. Ms. Tillie must have overlooked the name of the client.
“Take the private elevator on the left. That will lead you directly to the seventeenth floor," the girl answered coolly.
Cassidy couldn’t help thinking that the receptionist knew what she was here for, but she brushed the disquieting thought aside as she entered the lift. She instead focused her thoughts on her baby back home and the reason why she was doing this.
“This is all for you, Dee,” she whispered to herself, and somehow the notion made her feel braver about tonight.
The elevator hardly made any noise as it came to a stop on the seventeenth floor. The carpeting was lush on the hallway floor that lead to a lone door with the number seventeen written in italics. It was the only unit in the entire seventeenth floor.
She drew a deep breath and pulled back her shoulders as she knocked to announce her presence.
“Come in, please… the door’s open,” a male voice hollered from inside.
Cassidy pushed the door open and entered the foyer. She gasped as she noted the spacious living room with its wide glass windows, bringing into view the grandeur of nighttime New York. Her heels clicked softly on ebonized white oak flooring as she made her way to the salon that was furnished in blue, black, and grey. A cloisonné dish with scalloped rims and candlestick holders of the same design decorated the mantel of the fireplace. Potted indoor plants in brass bowls were scattered everywhere, giving the whole area a relaxed ambience.
The living room was bordered on both sides with hallways leading to different parts of the penthouse. An open stairway lead to the upper floor, which Cassidy surmised must be the eighteenth floor of the Carlton House. She wondered where the owner was. She heard the distinct sound of water flowing from the hallway to her right.
A voice coming from that direction called out, “Make yourself comfortable… there’s food in the fridge if you’re hungry. Taking a quick shower… be with you soon.”
He seems friendly enough… sounds young, though. I would have thought it’d be someone older. Look at this penthouse. It definitely reeks of money, Cassidy mused as she sauntered towards the glass windows.
The view from up here was truly beyond words. The lights of New York brightened the night sky. She recognized landmarks. It was like owning the city. No wonder he had this place. Money could bring that easy feeling of ownership. She knew that view was probably more expensive than the penthouse itself. She wondered about the man who lived here. Did he even appreciate what he had just outside his window? Probably not, she opined with a grimace. He probably takes all these for granted, she thought, glancing at the lavish furniture littered all over.
Without realizing that she was working up a snit, she added, …Like hiring an escort to keep him company. What’s wrong with going out and meeting someone? Normal people do that, don’t they? Unless he can’t be bothered because paying for a woman’s company is easier to do.
And then a nasty thought assailed her. Maybe he’s disfigured or something? But he has so much money he’d have no problem getting cosmetic surgery, for Christ’s sake. What’s wrong with the guy?
A range of emotions ran through her mind while she waited. Each image of her client was getting more atrocious than the last, until she decided he was a repugnant person who preyed on helpless woman who needed money because he could afford to do it. She was getting angrier by the minute.
A part of her brain knew that her disgust was a smokescreen of the fear she still felt inside. She really didn’t want to be here. If she were honest, she was no better than the hookers who plied the street corners in the dark. She only agreed to this because she needed the money for her daughter.
The thought of Dee helped her resolve. Just moments ago she had felt trapped, insignificant, and pathetic. However, she did say yes to Ms. Tillie. No one forced her. And she did buy the darn dress she had on, and Sheena worked hard to make her look fabulous tonight.
And, just as Ms. Tillie had said, this job would make her more money than any other work a person with her limited skills could bring in. She could send money home to mom and dad... and Dee. She would have enough to travel to Alabama for frequent visits. All she had to do was be pleasant and look good. She already knew she looked great, she just had to work on the pleasant part. How hard could it be?
Alright, Cassidy Johnson. Put on a good show for Ms. Tillie and Sheena... and Dee. Make this monster — God, I hope he drowns in the shower — laugh. Entertain him with your wit, then get the hell out of here.
With her mind made up, Cassidy felt better. Nerves made her parched and she desperately needed a drink of water. She wondered which of the two hallways led to the kitchen. God forbid she entered his bedroom by mistake, but she was thirsty and he did say to make herself comfortable, didn’t he?
She turned around, undecided. Just then, the man rounded the corner from where she heard the shower earlier. She stopped in her tracks as she watched him approach, rubbing and drying his hair with a white towel that partially covered his face. He pulled the towel away and slung it carelessly around his shoulder as he looked up at her.
“I’m sorry to keep you waiting… just arrived when you came in. What the fu — Cassidy?"
For Cassidy, the whole world came to an abrupt standstill. She felt as though her heart stopped beating. Her breath came in a gasp.
The man standing before her, tousled hair slightly damp, shirtless, and wearing faded jeans that hung sexily from his hips, was the last face on earth she expected to see again today.
“Tristan?”
They stood there staring at each other, hardly believing what the other was seeing.
Chapter Thirteen
The look of wonder on Tristan’s face was a sight to behold as he crossed the remaining distance between them.
Cassidy stepped back instinctively, like in a dream that was slowly turning into a nightmare. Never, in all her imaginings had envisioned that Tristan would be her first date. She was appalled, frightened, angry, and hurt all at once. She’d made the biggest mistake of her life. Yes, there could only be one thing worse than getting pregnant by a man who cheated and lied, and here it was. Tristan in the flesh. His presence mocked all of her resolve. The first date had turned into an emotional horror.
A series of questions gushed from Tristan.
“What are you doing here? Where have you been? You disappeared so suddenly… I went crazy thinking something bad happened to you. I went to the coffee shop where you used to work… the manager said you suddenly resigned. What happened to you? Why did you just leave without saying goodbye?”
Cassidy heard the questions, but her mind was in such a chaotic whirl that she didn’t know what to say. She was dumbstruck to see him again. All the pent-up emotions she had managed to keep at bay came rushing back like an unstoppable tsunami. The past year unraveled before her eyes: her joy thinking how lucky she was to have found someone like him, her shock seeing the videos with him goin
g out with all those women, the secret life he lived, getting her pregnant and making her fearful about her own future. All these thoughts slammed into her simultaneously.
At the same time, she couldn’t ignore the lust that bloomed in her crotch at the sight of his naked chest. Not just his chest, his entire body. The jeans barely concealed the strength of his thighs; those thighs that had clasped her body in passion. In truth, the primal ache overpowered all other emotions that were running through her. Her mind had split into two opposing sides: one side telling her to rant and rave at this loathsome creature, while the other side was telling her she wanted him to fuck her… hard.
And the way he said her name… Cass. Like it was an endearment and not coming from the lips of a sex addict. How could he stand there and look so innocent? Did he even know what she went through during those nine months that she was carrying his baby? Did he know what it felt like to push a head the size of a melon out of a vagina?
Did he? Did he fucking know?
Cassidy’s fury gave her composure she typically didn’t possess.
“Can I have a glass of water, please?” she asked coolly.
“Some water? Sure. Of course… anything. Would you prefer wine? I have some in the cooler.”
Of course he did. He probably got women drunk before he fucked them.
“No. Water’s fine,” Cassidy replied flatly.