by Katrina Liss
“It depends on the guy. Just use that clever brain of yours, duh!” She fobs off my question with a flippancy that’s annoying.
“But what if we don’t get on? Have no common ground? Or I don’t understand what he’s talking about?”
“Don’t worry about it. Just act interested in him even if you’re not. Play dumb if need be. Use feminine hand gestures, they love that. And make sure you smile a lot too. You can twist a guy round your finger with the right smile.”
“I can’t smile and flap my hands around all night.”
“No, you can’t. Converse. Naturally. Imagine you're going to dinner with your dad’s best friend, an older uncle or something like that.”
A vision of my dad’s golfing friend Eric White pops into my head. Not a good choice to imagine. He’s overbearing and a bit arrogant. I can’t imagine sitting down to dinner and chatting with him for long. I wouldn’t feel at all comfortable.
“God… this is a big mistake. I’m gonna be useless at it. I’m not a social butterfly like you.”
“Honestly, Ella, will you stop getting your panties in a fix.”
“I can’t help it!”
“Els,” she growls. “Chill. That’s an order.”
“Okay. Sorry I asked.” I shoot back, indignantly. “I’ll call you tomorrow, Cal. Have a nice date.”
I end the call, puffing a long, anxious sigh into the air.
My stomach rolls head-over-heels again.
I know Callie’s right. I do need to chill. I have a tendency to overthink—over complicate. And, as she rightly puts it, get my panties in a fix.
It’s just fear of the unknown. I need to get this first one under my belt, then I’ll be fine, I’m sure.
I take some nice long, steadying breaths.
This is no big deal.
Never mind I’ve been on edge since I was assigned my job at 5.00 p.m last night. Never mind my gut has been rolling after I was emailed secure details of the date this morning.
All I know is his name. Victor Walker. I’m to meet him at 6 p.m. outside his home. Morag is sending a cab to collect me pretty soon. I’m told nothing about him, only that he will provide details of the event en route.
I feel even more nervous as I look at myself in the mirror. Not that I look bad. I look amazing. I never knew I could scrub up so fine. I twirl and look at my side and back views. The hair and manicure look pretty good, all courtesy of Sweet Something salon, which I visited today. The dress and shoes are not my style. None of the outfits I received are. Probably because I haven’t developed much of a style, other than jeans and a T or sweat top. In high summer the same, but shorts.
The dress I have on is the prettiest dress of the four. It’s a pinky beige sparkly affair with a short and swirly skirt. The matching shoes are skyscraper high. Being used to flats and trainers, I can’t imagine I’ll keep these on for long. They hurt already and I've barely taken a step.
Morag has texted asking for a photo of me wearing my outfit, to ensure that I’m properly presented. Seeing as it’s my first assignment.
I shoot one off. Two minutes later I’m instructed to lose the cherry red lipgloss I have chosen and replace it with a muted pink lippy.
Thankfully, I do have a muted pink lippy.
I apply, blot and reapply.
As I gaze at my finished reflection I love what I see. It's amazing how clothes and the right makeup can switch things up. I really do feel transformed, like I'm a completely different woman—inside and out.
I’d be quite confident in myself if it wasn’t my grand escorting debut.
As 5.30 p.m. approaches I collect my clutch and prepare to leave. I cast a glance out the window.
The cab’s here already.
Right. You got this, girl.
Chapter Five
Ella
Perching on the cab seat, my fear escalates even further.
It’s getting real now. Too real.
I gaze out of the window, the New York City scene passing me by as I'm blindly lost in the world of my worries.
In less than twenty minutes, way too soon, we reach our destination.
It’s a stylish tree-lined street, full of old, tall brownstones. Window boxes tumbling with bright flowers brighten the tan facades.
It's cool. Beautiful. Peaceful. I’d love to live somewhere like this, but it’s way out of my league. Way out of my dad’s league even.
Thanking the driver, I leave the prepaid cab, glancing up the street to see a car parked directly ahead.
It’s a swanky one. Black and super-shiny. I guess this could be my ride.
I walk towards it with my heart in my mouth.
A smartly dressed driver gets out and opens the rear door for me as I approach.
"Evening, miss."
"Evening." I smile at the driver and take a deep breath as I lean down to look inside.
The scent of intoxicating cologne drifts out of the car and a dark haired guy in a luxurious black tux leans forward to greet me.
I do a double take.
My client is no father figure. Nowhere near middle aged even. Maybe thirty years old—at the most.
“Ella York?”
“That’s right.”
His silvery grey eyes drift over me briefly before a satisfied smile settles on his face.
I think I’ve made a positive impression.
“Pleased to meet you, Ella.”
I gulp. “Pleased to meet you too, Mr Walker.”
“Call me Vic.”
Vic just so happens to be one of the most handsome men I’ve ever laid eyes on. And I can't help wondering, why does a man like him need a paid escort?
He’s a big guy. Broad shoulders. Not huge, but impressive enough. Like he uses the gym pretty often, but doesn’t live in it. Wavy dark brown hair cut neat and short, chiseled features, a strong jaw with a hint of stubble. All topped off with a panty melting smile.
This guy is a real life Hugo Boss ad.
My stomach tightens into a knot as I take all of him in.
I’ve never had such an intense reaction to a guy before. Something about the way his coolly assessing eyes fixate on my face and body ignites a fire inside me.
“So,” he rasps in a deep, husky voice which sends sensuous chills rolling down my spine. “Are you getting in or standing on the sidewalk all night?”
“Oh, sorry.” I slide inside the car, slowly and carefully arranging my dress and legs in a ladylike fashion and the driver shuts the door.
“Comfortable?” His voice is as smooth and sexy as peaches and cream, and I want to swim in it.
“Yes, thank you.”
Although I’m anything but comfortable with Vic sitting next to me.
“Excuse me. Safety first.” He reaches across and fastens my seat belt. I can’t help that my breath hitches as his fingers brush my thigh.
Come on, chill, it’s no big deal, I tell myself, forcing a sweet smile for my client's benefit.
Just gotta remember those rules of engagement and be my best, most charming little self.
Chapter Six
Vic
I don’t know what I expected exactly, but certainly not the blonde vision seated beside me.
What the hell is she doing working as an escort? With looks like hers, she could be a supermodel.
But lucky for me, she’s not.
With her expressive sapphire eyes, full lips set in a permanent pout and her immaculate golden-blonde updo, this sweet something is going to be the perfect decoy.
And that pleases me. She pleases me.
“I’ll fill you in on things, shall I?”
As I lean closer to her, Ella draws in a quiet breath, the blue eyes rounding as her gaze wanders up from my tailored tux to my face. Her cheeks flush subtly pink and the sight is so unexpectedly sexy that my cock twitches.
“Please, go ahead,” she prompts. My eyes drop to the pale sculpted dress—a short, chic, strapless number that should be criminalized, it loo
ks so devilishly good on her figure. Her breasts are delicious. The things I'd like to do to those beauties.
Man, do I need to get laid. Having sex at my own hand is getting kinda old.
I clear my throat and give a curt nod. “Okay, then.” The journey we have now started is a fairly short one. I don’t have much time to fill her in on a lot of detail. We'll do that on the fly. “Tonight we’re attending a benefit that my mother has arranged. You’re going to play the part of my girlfriend. My mother is far too invested in my love life, so I need you to keep her off my back, okay?”
She frowns. “Why don’t you just tell her to mind her own business?”
A scowl flits across my face. “You haven’t met Shirley Walker. There's no telling my mother what to do. She doesn’t believe I can possibly be happy with a single status and she won’t quit dreaming up her little schemes until I’ve provided her with at least one grandchild. So, I’ve devised my own plan of action, and you’re it.”
“So it seems. Go on…”
I pause for a moment, my gaze drifting from her eyes, down to her bee-stung pouty lips.
“Here’s the basic facts for you about our relationship. How it began. We met three months ago when we were on vacation in Hawaii. It must’ve been fate that we were both from New York. We’ve been casually dating ever since. It’s now getting more serious. Okay with that so far?”
“Wow,” she breathes. “I’m actually going to lie to your mother, that I’m your serious girlfriend?”
“You play a game of deception every time you escort someone, don’t you?”
“I guess we do. But that’s just obscure pretense, what you’re asking me to do here is convince your mother we’re a serious couple. In love. That’s a much deeper lie.”
“Well, that’s what I need you to do, so—?” The question hangs in the air.
She purses her lips. "Well, I'll do my best. But I tell you now, I personally don't like it and it won’t end well. But it's your call, I guess."
"Yeah, it is."
And I've paid for that privilege.
Rather than annoy me, her indignant, moral tone intrigues me. Maybe I have a thing for opinionated, righteous young women. But what the fuck's she doing escorting if that's her stance?
The car jostles us suddenly and we bump thighs. Instinctively, I wrap an arm around her shoulders. Ella flinches, as if she’s nervous of my touch.
Her jerky negative reaction disturbs me.
She can’t react like that. She needs to be physically comfortable in my presence, not acting like some teenager on a first date.
“Are you sure you can handle this?” I ask. The whole point is to convince my mother that we’re real. Maybe in love. For the first time I consider that might be a lot to ask of someone I only met five minutes ago.
“Yes, I can,” she answers hastily, worry skittering across her pretty features. “I just need some time to process.”
“You seem nervous of me.”
“Obviously! Just give me a few minutes.”
Time, we don’t have. Rightly or wrongly, I need to sort this out.
In one smooth movement, I pull her up against me.
She releases a squeak as my hand glides up her neck and my fingertips curl into the tight hair at her nape.
"Uhm...Vic, what are you—?"
I cut her short as my mouth captures hers.
She goes stiff in my arms as I pull her close, silencing her squeaks of protests with my lips. My fingers dig firmly into the flesh of her hip, my thumb sliding down the crease of her groin. I feel her struggling, her hands bracing against my chest and trying to push me away.
Her lips are even softer than they look; her taste, sweet as honey, plays on my tongue and her light, flowery perfume is captivating.
Suddenly, she shoves me away quite roughly with the words, “That’s enough!”
At the same time the car door swings open. I hadn't even realized we’d stopped.
“The Old Courthouse, sir, miss,” the driver announces.
Smothering a smirk, I climb out of the limo, thank the driver, and hold out my hand to help Ella out. She sits there gaping a little, her fingers brushing her swollen lips.
“If you’ve read the rules of engagement, you’ll know kissing is confined to the cheek, Mr Walker.”
“Needed to break the ice,” I explain with a cheeky wink. “So there’s no awkwardness between us.”
“Oh, really?” she snaps, all flustered and flushed. “Play by the rules, okay?”
Might have trouble with that. I can't help questioning rules. It's the way I'm wired. Anyway, in my opinion, what happens between us, as consenting adults, is up to us. That's something we'll need to work out. Later.
I pull her from the car and wrap an arm around her waist, leading her up the steps of the Old Courthouse, through the doors to the benefit suite.
As she settles against me, her body trembles.
I guess she’s wary of what awaits her here tonight.
I watch her pretty blue eyes dart around the place, eyes which seemed to have darkened to a rich cobalt blue. She holds her head high and takes a long, deep breath.
Inside, the fundraising room it's chock full of people, but that doesn’t stop my mother from spotting me instantly through the masses.
I swear she has proximity sensors.
“Victor!” she cries, rushing over, looking her usual resplendent self, dressed in bright purple from head to toe. She kisses me on both cheeks, swamping me with an overdose of her favorite Chanel. Coming to realize I’m not alone and that someone is attached to my side, her eyes widen with surprise. I swear they might just pop from her head. “You never said you were bringing someone. Who is this delightful young lady?”
“I’m Ella. Ella York,” she says, introducing herself with a shy smile. She holds out her hand in greeting. I can feel her nervousness and give her a little squeeze of encouragement. “It’s so lovely to meet you, Mrs. Walker. I’ve heard so much about you over the past few months.”
“You’ve been seeing each other for months?” She turns to me accusingly. “Victor, why did I not know about this?”
“Because I don’t tell you all my business. Ella and I met when I was in Hawaii.”
“Goodness,” my mother says, patting her chest, with a smile wider than the Brooklyn Bridge. “You must tell me all about yourself, my dear.”
“Well…umm,” Ella begins, a flush creeping very noticeably up her neck.
I try to stall my mother.“Can we do the big reveal later. We’ve only just got here.”
“I know, but I’m interested.”
“I’d call it prying.”
“Hardly.” Mother’s gaze shoots me down. “So were you staying in the same hotel as Vic? What's it called again?”
“No, not the same hotel. I’m hopeless with names." She nips her lip. "Was it the Royal Bay or the Bay Imperial?”
“No, it was The Grand.” I intervene.
“Oh yeah, silly me.” Ella is now blushing furiously.
Mom skips over Ella’s faux-pas. “So did you meet there? What were you doing when you first met Victor, Ella?”
Ella subtly shoots a quick look up at me, her brow crinkling with uncertainty.
“We met while we were on a boat, on a snorkeling excursion.” She offers in a tentative tone of voice.
Bad choice.
I tighten my arm around her.
My mother’s eyes narrow, her smile fading. “He snorkeled with you? Are you kidding me?”
Ella frowns. “No,” she replies, looking at my mother with confusion. “We were on a boat and we got talking. It was hot and sunny so we swam in the sea. And there were lots of lovely fish...”
“Really?” Mother arches her brows.
Ella shoots me a pleading look.
“Uhm, you enjoyed it, didn’t you, Vic?”
I’d better dive in before she buries us.
“It was a quick trip around the bay, Mom. Ella coaxed me
in the sea for a minute or two to see the fish. She’s very persuasive, aren’t you baby?” I squeeze her to me and kiss her cheek.
Mom takes my hand.
“I’m sorry, darling, I was just a little surprised. You can’t cure a lifelong water phobia so easily, surely?”
“Nope,” I agree. “I still have that damn phobia.”
Mom turns her gaze to Ella. “Judging by your reaction, I’m guessing he didn’t tell you about it?”
“He said he didn’t swim too well, that was all…”
“Victor…” Mother says, chastising me with a naughty finger wag. But her smile brightens and the suspicious frown disappears. "Now then, my lovelies. Can I get you both some champagne?"
“I need to eat first… can we raid the buffet yet,” I switch the conversation to give us a get out.
“Sure. Go help yourselves. It’s right over there.” She points a deep purple fingernail across the room.
“Catch you later, Mom,” I say, needing to escape.
I take Ella’s hand and lead her away.
I stop in the first clear space available so we can talk.
“God, that was awful, I felt so damned uncomfortable,” she says.
“Welcome to my world. That’s why I don’t tell her much. We got off lightly there, she’s like a Rottweiler when she gets her teeth into something.”
“I meant the lies! You could have jumped in a bit sooner. You could see I was struggling. I know nothing about you.”
“I was in control. I assure you.”
"It didn't seem like that." She folds her arms and juts out her chin. “But at least I know something about you now… you’re water phobic.”
"Not water. The sea. I nearly drowned in a riptide when I was eight. I’m not keen on repeating the experience so I don't ever swim in open water.”
“Obviously snorkeling was a very bad idea to come up with.”
"Yeah." I lean back a little. “But no harm done.”
We continue on to the extravagant buffet.
“Jeez! Look at all that food...and this place is just… wow! It's all vintage and so beautiful.”
"My mother’s functions are always very well presented. She spends hours fussing over details."