by Katrina Liss
I pick up my cell and tap Callie’s number.
“Heya... still alive then?”
I could do without the sarcasm.
“Just about.”
“So what happened?”
“He wasn’t what I expected. He was very young.”
She tuts. “Oh, I’ve had a few of those. Ugly as Shrek, huh?”
“Nope. He’s a bit of a looker. And it’s an ongoing assignment.”
“Really?” There’s an edge to her voice. “Mind how you go, the hot guys can be pretty tricky.”
“You sound like you’ve been there?”
“Once. Way back. I was hired to make someone jealous. It was only the one date but he really put me through the wringer. Hands everywhere. What’s this guy’s game?”
“I’m supposed to be his fake girlfriend.”
“Ah, yeah, that’s a common theme. Anyways… be good, right?”
“I will.”
Unfortunately the being good part is already a little burned around the edges.
I intended to sound her out a little more than this, but I can’t without telling her things that I don’t want her to know. And breaking confidences. I need to sort this one on my own, somehow.
“How was your date with the wonderful Baz.”
“Absolutely fucking amazing.”
I laugh out loud.
“Wanna meet up?” I ask.
“Can’t, hun, I’m seeing Baz for lunch then I’m on duty tonight.”
“Ah, right.”
We chat for a while and then I end the call.
It’s not till I get off the line, I realize I have a message from Morag. Vic has booked me in for tonight.
Already? I was hoping to get a night off to recover.
It’s a dinner date. 7 pm at Caliari, an expensive Italian restaurant mid downtown.
A dinner date sounds a lot better in some ways. Less complicated. Although being alone with Vic can be complicated enough.
Scanning through my cell, I realize I ought to call Tom. I’ve had three missed calls and two texts from him since I left the cafe. I’ve been avoiding him. For obvious reasons.
I tap his number and he picks up straight away.
“Hey, how goes it, sweetie?”
“I’m doing all right. The new job’s pretty good.”
“So what are you doing?”
“It’s my aunt’s business. Doing some admin and accounts for her. She’s a designer.” That just popped in my head. I’m lying again. To my friend. Escorting is a lying minefield one way or another. I hate lying, but can I really tell Tom what I’m doing? No, I can’t.
“Way different to the cafe, huh?”
“Very different.”
“Listen, I’ve got a short afternoon shift today, filling in for Becks. I’m finishing at six tonight. You wanna meet up for a drink or something, only I’m midway through the food shopping with Pippa right now.”
“That’ll be great. Where shall we meet?"
We make plans to meet downtown at a bar ten minutes walk from the cafe. The bar should place us pretty close to the restaurant where Vic and I are meeting.
Actually, when I check up later, I discover it’s next door to it.
Chapter Eleven
Vic
I know I’m being impatient, but I’ve decided to set up my first crypto trade.
I double and triple check the unfamiliar pricing.
Based on the direction things are going on this week’s chart, I’m gonna go short.
I deposit a decent sized position, medium leverage, planning on letting it run overnight.
I buzz through to Hils letting her know I’ve placed it and to keep a second eye while I’m out for dinner tonight. Hils often watches for me. She has monitors set up at her home.
Although she can see, she can’t action anything.
“You set up your stops?” she asks.
“Yep.”
“Okay.”
We leave the office at four. I head off home to get ready for my night.
I check things in my study at home before I leave for dinner. Nothing much has changed.
Leaving the cab, I walk down the street a few blocks, taking some exercise. I’m a block from the restaurant when my cell rings. I scoop it from my pocket.
I see Hils name appear on my screen and start to worry. She never calls me when I’m out, unless it's urgent.
“Hils, whassup?”
“Okay… don’t panic…” she says. So of course that’s the very first thing I start to do. “There’s a rumor going around about Amex and the crypto. They’re investing in crypto backed tech for their security systems. It’s only rumor mind. But still, it’s all over Twitter and Reuters. Actually… everywhere.”
“Uh-huh?” My heart’s beating like crazy. This isn’t going to be good.
“Well obviously the price has shot straight through the roof. So the position you’re currently running… being short, it’s like… I’m sorry Vic, I can’t bear to tell you…” her voice sounds all squeaky. Like she’s about to cry.
“For fucks sake, just tell me, Hils. What’s the damage?”
“It’s now,” she sniffs, “just topping a 2.2mil loss.”
“Fuck… fuck… fuck” My world starts to spin. I see a bench nearby and plant my ass on it.
“You wanna close this out? Cut and run??”
“No, it could bounce back. You know what rumours are like.”
“Okay… so…?”
“Let me know if it tips over 2.5. I’ll rethink it then.”
With a sick feeling in my gut, I end the call, stand, and move forward one slow step at a time.
I have a very bad feeling this could hit my stop.
Why did I set that stop so bloody high? My first trade out?
I should have kept it at 500k, low leverage.
I square my shoulders.
I could cancel my dinner date, go watch it play out at home, on my own…
Fret over my screens for a couple of hours. Drive myself fucking crazy.
Drink myself stupid?
Or I can keep my date and put a brave face on it.
The prospect of spending time with Ella outweighs being on my own in the land of shit.
Ten fold.
Chapter Twelve
Ella
At six twenty five I arrive at the bar pretty late, ready with my apologies. I missed my ride on the subway and had to wait a while for the next.
Tom waves me over.
I launch into him and hug him tight.
“Sorry I’m so late.”
“I only got here ten minutes ago myself. You’re fine.”
"Girl, you’re a sight for sore eyes." He looks me over, his eyes sweeping down my tight tube dress to the black peep toe wedges. I know I look pretty good. I have my hair set into a high ponytail which is curled at the ends and looks full and bouncy. The dress molds to me like a second skin. I have a lacy throw tossed around my shoulders for the sake of modesty.
“Hot date?”
“Aha.”
“Lucky guy,” he drawls, extra slowly. Tom is well into his pregnant lady, he wouldn’t ever make a move on me, but I can see he’s impressed with my spanking new look. “Who is he?”
“A city trader. I met him through my friend Callie.”
He nods at a drink on the bar.
“I got you a wine. Is that okay?”
I lean forward and whisper. "Do I look over twenty one? ‘Cos if they ID me I’m thirteen months short."
“You’re good.” Tom laughs.
Thankfully no one questions it.
I take a quick sip at my drink and we move away from the bar and take a seat at the window on some high stools with a tiny table between us. This is perfect. We can watch everyone rushing by while we enjoy a relaxing half hour.
“Here.” I slip Tom a ten dollar bill for my drink and he slides the note right back.
“It’s fine, Pip and I manage okay.”
“Take it,”
I order. “Or I won’t drink the wine.” I know Tom struggles even with the two of them working.
“No need.”
“I mean it.”
He rolls his eyes and pockets the note.
We’re only sitting there for ten or fifteen minutes at the most, chatting about the forthcoming baby and the family conflict raging over the unborn child’s baptism, when I notice Tom is distracted and looking out the window.
“D’you know that guy? Only he seems to be staring at you.”
I follow his gaze.
There stands Vic, large as life.
“Oh. That’s my date. He’s a bit early though,” I say, taking a peek at my dress watch.
I smile and gesture to him to wait next door, mouthing, ‘give me five, okay?’
Ignoring my request, he turns and makes his way inside the bar.
He strides toward to the table purposefully. I take in the sharp suit, the neat tie, the edible scruff round his jaw. I’m looking forward to our dinner date. Well, I would be, if he was looking a bit happier to see me.
“Who are you?” he asks, glaring at Tom.
“I’m Thomas.” Tom sticks out his hand for a shake but Vic rudely ignores him. “Can I get you a drink?"
“No, thanks,” Vic dismisses Tom and turns his attention to me.
He holds out his hand. "You ready?"
“Well, no. You're a bit early, Vic. Give us ten minutes to finish off here, yeah?”
“I’ll wait here.”
What the hell? No...
I reach for my drink feeling really awkward.
“Vic… I’d rather you didn’t—”
"Hey, it's fine, I'm done here," Tom gestures at his empty glass. "Catch you some other time.”
Tom slips from his high stool and comes to my side.
I lean in to kiss his cheek with Vic glaring at the two of us.
For God's sake!
Tom says goodbye, leaving us with a frown and shooting a concerned glance over his shoulder.
I turn to Vic in fury. "What are you playing at? There was no need for that attitude. That was my good friend Tom, who I told you about last night."
"The name didn’t connect. The way you were looking at each other, you seemed very cosy. I thought he was another client. I overreacted."
"Well, he’s not a client," I snap. “And even if he was, what I do and who I see outside our arrangement is very much my affair."
"No, it’s not," he says, very tight lipped, slipping his arm around my waist and sweeping me off the stool to my feet and to his side. Any other time it might have been a sweetly possessive gesture, but right now I don’t need or want it. Not from him. He’s so pissing me off. "You can’t be seen around town with other guys—not while you’re playing my girlfriend."
I glare at him. “Wow… you really think you own me, don’t you?"
“Ella… if you really belonged to me, you’d know it.”
"I bet. And what the hell am I gonna tell Tom, huh? He’s gonna think I’m on a date with a prize dick. You were so mean to him."
"Maybe, I was a little offhand."
I roll my eyes. “Maybe??" I try to make light of it, and see some funny side, although I’m not feeling it at all.
He drops his gaze to the floor. “Look, I have something very problematic on my mind and it was a simple misjudgment.” His eyes slowly return to mine. “I’m sorry, Ella. Please apologize to Tom on my behalf.”
This is how the other half live. Very wealthy people like Vic.
Being waited on so well, being fed the food of the Gods, I feel like a queen.
I could get quite used to this.
But I remind myself not to. This is a short term fake girlfriend assignment. Attachment is not on the cards. Truth is, I could never date Vic knowing how we met. It wouldn't feel right. It would always come between us. That's why I refused when he offered me the four week date last night.
I’m under no illusions. This is not Pretty Woman part 2.
My gaze runs over him. Vics been quiet tonight, compared with his usual witty banter. I’ve had to carry the conversation. It’s like he’s somewhere else.
His cell buzzes on the table and immediately he picks it up and looks.
He mouths something and a heavy frown appears on his face.
“Problem?” I ask.
He continues to stare at his cellphone, rubbing his jaw and blowing out a long breath.
“Nothing you need worry about,” he says a little coldly.
I place my empty glass down. “Okay.”
His eyes raise to mine as he puts down his phone, leaving his hand on it, strumming his fingers slowly.
The frown is still very evident as his eyes dart around the restaurant. He’s acting nervous. I’m sure I can see little beads of sweat on his brow.
He picks up the cellphone again. ”I need to make a call. You want another drink?”
“Why not?” I probably shouldn’t as I’m feeling the effects of the alcohol, but I throw caution to the wind.
He calls the waiter over to order me another glass and then leaves the restaurant, cell pressed to his ear.
I sit alone to wait. My wine arrives and I sip and sip. He must be gone at least five if not ten minutes.
Finally he returns.
“All sorted?” I ask.
He snorts a strange laugh. “Not. At. All.”
“What is it? Please tell me what’s happened? I can see you’re really worried.”
Placing his forearms n the table, he leans in toward me. “If you must know, I’m currently 2.4 mil down in crypto.” My eyes widen as he reveals the extent of his problem. “Something’s happened in the market, something fucking big and unusual that I couldn’t have foreseen. I set my stakes too high and now I’m now sitting on the wrong side of the news.”
“Oh my God! What you gonna do?”
“It’ll close out at 3Mil when it hits my stop. But I can’t take that kinda hit. It’ll be ground zero for me.”
I puff out a long breath, feeling so anxious for him. “What can I do? You need me around, to take your mind off it, until it, umm…?”
“I would say yes.” His eyes search mine. Vic takes my hand across the table, rubbing my fingers and the back of my hand in little circles with his fingertips. The gesture is enough to get me going, ramping up the sexual tension. “But that’s not fair on you.”
“Well, the offer’s there.” Although I'm not sure exactly what I’m offering.
He smiles thinly. “Sweet of you.”
I finish the last few sips of my wine. A rich and fruity Nero d'Avola. It’s gorgeous. Albeit a little strong. I think I'm a bit trashed. Things are starting to blur in all directions.
His gaze shifts to my empty glass and then back to me. I can feel the heat in my face from the effects of the drink. I’m sure he can see it very clearly.
“We should go.”
“Yeah.”
He gestures for the tab.
He converses with the server and pays the tab.
I watch every movement he makes. I’m quite fascinated. Maybe a little obsessed.
He’s so interesting. Attentive. Amusing. A little bit sweet… sometimes. I want more.
Going back to my apartment and watching TV all alone doesn’t appeal. I don’t think Vic wants that either.
I'm probably being fanciful, reading more into things than I should but he does seem pretty interested in me. Not just physically but in other ways too.
“Shall we head back to your place? For coffee?” I suggest.
“D’you really want to?” His finger traces up the inside of my wrist. I shiver with anticipation, desire whipping up inside.
“I’d really like to.”
The second I confirm, he raises my hand to his lips, planting a soft, lush kiss on my knuckles and flicks his eyes up to mine. It's that kind of look. A powerful sexy come-hither promise. And it turns my insides to mush.
I can’t resist. And tonight I'm probably no
t going to.
Coffee my ass. I know what’s on the menu. And I’m walking willingly through that door.
"Let's go, beautiful,” he says, and helps me up from the table. He stands to the side while I wrap my shoulders in the lacy scarf. It’s not cold outside, the late August evening is balmy and I can probably go without my wrap, but I'd feel a little naked walking the streets without it on.
After a few minutes of intoxicated walking, Vic hails a passing yellow cab. I feel very warm and fuzzy from the wine I've consumed. Three glasses of heady red wine is probably one too many, even with a meal. Vic seems sober enough and he's had the same. I guess he's had a whole lot more practise. Either that, or his 3Mil crypto nightmare has sobered him up pretty fast.
“All right?” he asks, as I wiggle my drunken little ass closer to his side, feeling the heat of his thigh warming mine, hooking my arm through his.
"Yes, thanks."
His hand slips over my leg and he squeezes it gently. Thrills race up and down my body and I love each and every one. In my fuzzy haze, I'm willing his hand to move up a little higher, but it stays right there, a stroking thumb teasing my thigh.
As we enter the elevator to his building he's very gentlemanly and hands off. He stands with his arms folded in front of him watching the floor numbers ascend.
I smile as I catch his eye and he attempts to smile back, but it’s a weak effort.
I guess his big fat loss of a trade is ruining his evening as well as his bank account.
The second we get inside his apartment, he kicks off his shoes, shrugs off his jacket and rips off his tie in a rush.
I watch him a little wary of what’s going on.
“I’m just gonna check something. Back in a couple.”
“Okay.”
He disappears somewhere round the corner.
I sit on the arm of a chair in the living room to wait. Then I get up and wander around, looking at his stuff.
Five minutes later he returns.
I almost don’t want to ask. “So how’s it looking?” I cross my fingers.
The atmosphere in the room changes. But I can’t read it. Not until he smiles.