Secrets in Suburbia

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Secrets in Suburbia Page 13

by Melody Calder


  Chapter 23

  I sit on my couch, beer in hand, files spread out on the coffee table before me. I’ve been here for hours, searching for something, anything to explain how I got here. My phone sits next to empty bottles, texts unanswered.

  I pick up my account statement again, my eyes bore into it, as if I can stare some extra zeros on the end. “What the hell am I going to do?” I throw the papers in frustration. They hit the coffee table and continue to slide over the edge, taking more paperwork with them.

  I don’t care to pick them up and take another swig of my beer, but it’s empty. “Damn it,” I swear as I stagger to my feet with the plan of grabbing another drink. My head is spinning, and my limbs feel heavy, so it’s no surprise that I trip over my own feet, face planting onto the hard wooden coffee table.

  I think that the fates are out to get me. My face has landed right on the picture of Rich and another man bent over in front of him, only the grey hair of the second man can be seen. I look at his face in the photo, scrunched up in a mixture of concentration and pleasure. It’s an expression I’m familiar with and will never see again. I want to remember this face of his, not the devious grin he had as he left the courtroom.

  I pull my eyes away from his face, admonishing myself for my thoughts going there, for being so weak. Instead I study the other people captured in the photo, all in various sexual positions. A woman with bright red hair is on her hands and knees, her face between the legs of another woman and a man pushing into the redhead from behind.

  I pick up another photo, torturing myself with the images, wanting to see the man he is with. I wasn’t as heartbroken when it was just Todd. I could understand falling for someone else, but this; my mind can’t handle whatever this is.

  It isn’t until I get to the last of the pictures that the man’s face is clearly shown. “How did we all miss this?” I grab my keys and stumble towards the door, picture in hand.

  ∞∞∞

  “Samantha, you are drunk,” Rachel’s distaste clear in her voice.

  “Well, thank you Captain Obvious,” I attempt an elegant bow and nearly fall on my face. “I need to talk to Stuart. It’s an emergency.”

  “Go home and sober up. There is nothing so important that you can’t wait until you sober up.” She sneers at me, “Besides, it’s after hours. You should call him at his office tomorrow. Just because we are neighbors doesn’t mean you get special treatment.”

  “Samantha?” Stuart’s voice comes from behind Rachel. I see her visibly stiffen. “What are you doing here so late?”

  “I’m sorry Stuart,” I slur slightly, “I found something. I can’t believe we all missed it! You need to get that judge fired, or whatever it is they do to bad judges.”

  He turns to his wife, “Rachel, why don’t you make some coffee for us. I’m going to help Samantha to my office.” She nods her head, the anger evident on her face, but does what she is asked without argument.

  Once we are seated in his office, and Rachel has left after delivering us the coffee, I shove the picture in Stuart’s face. “You see that guy Rich is banging?”

  Stuart’s face reddens with embarrassment, “Samantha, I don’t see how reliving the past is going to help you move forward. I’m so sorry we lost, but you have to concentrate on figuring out your future. And this,” he waves his hands, “is not helping you. I think once you’ve processed it, you will feel better.”

  I growl in frustration. “I’m a little tipsy, but seriously, just look at the man, Stu.”

  “I don’t see…”

  “Fuck Stu, can you just make me happy and look? I wouldn’t willingly go anywhere near your wife if it weren’t important.”

  Stuart sighs, but doesn’t argue. He glances at the picture. “Happy?” he asks, before his eyes widen as the implication sinks in. He looks back down at the picture and then grabs a magnifying glass out of his drawer. “Holy shit! That – I – that’s – shit,” he stutters.

  “Yes, Stuart my boy, that’s the fucking judge.” I giggle at my double entendre, “I mean that’s the judge fucking my ex-husband.”

  “This explains so much,” he shakes his head, “I can’t believe it. I have to contact some associates to make sure that I handle the situation appropriately, but it’s going to take some time. I have to handle this delicately and appeals are not quick. I will do what I can, but you have to understand that this might take a long time.”

  “Like weeks long or years long?” I question, even though I think I know the answer by the look on his face.

  “I don’t know for certain, but it will be much longer than weeks. I don’t think I’m going to be able to get anywhere even before your ninety-day due date on the money you have to pay Rich.”

  I put my head in my hands, “I don’t suppose I can skip out on that?”

  “Samantha, you of all people knows what happens when you try to skip out on a court ordered payments.” Stuart is always the voice of reason and drunk me really doesn’t like that right now.

  ∞∞∞

  “I’m here for an interview with Tanya,” I state to the receptionist who sits behind a polished black marble raised desk. “My name is Samantha Forester.” Stuart had helped me get my name changed back to my maiden name.

  “Have a seat and I’ll let her know you are here,” she replies in a bored tone.

  I sit in the plush leather chair and look around the reception area. It is nothing like I had pictured in my mind. The space is modern and chic. The floor to ceiling windows shining light on the blonde wood floors, making them glow. I can hear a stock news program playing in the background. As I concentrate on the wavy white tiles behind the reception desk, I breathe in the scent of sandalwood with undertones of other masculine scents that I don’t recognize.

  I laughed at myself for having expected this unassuming office space to be decorated with red velvet curtains, gaudy wallpaper, and beaded lampshades. This space was nothing like the brothel I had pictured.

  “Samantha, it’s so nice to finally meet you,” Tanya pulls me from my thoughts, “Mario has told me quite a bit about you.”

  I shake her outstretched hand and shake it, “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

  I follow her to her office, again decorated in a modern design. Once I’m seated, she offers me a water and I accept, the nerves now kicking in, making my mouth dry.

  “I know quite a bit about you already, so let me start by telling you how the business works,” she eases me into the interview, which I am thankful for. “We cater to businessmen, and occasionally businesswomen, who are too busy in their lives to find a partner. We are an escort service, not a brothel. I expect my girls to provide entertainment to our clients, but never cross the line to intimacy.”

  I nod my head in understanding and she continues, “You may be asked to attend a gala or a simple one on one dinner. You are responsible for providing your own appropriate clothing, hair, and makeup. Any particular tastes or requirements the clients have will be detailed in the assignment that will be emailed to you, such as dress color or style. All of the payments go through the company, and you will be given a percentage of our fee, plus the full amount of any tips the client may decide to give you.”

  “How do the assignments work?” I question.

  “Our clients all have particular tastes which are detailed in their application. Some may feel that blondes are the most important asset, some may like tall girls, or some may like a good conversationalist. We have a secure website for our clients to look at the profiles of all the available girls on the dates that they select,” Tanya lets out a small chuckle, “a menu if you will. For those clients that would like a more personal service, I hand pick the right girl.”

  “I must warn you,” she continues, “you are only allowed to turn down three assignments before termination. And if you turn down an assignment without a medical excuse, you will be fined for each occurrence. It sounds harsh, but I must maintain the best experience possible for my
clients.”

  “What can I expect to earn?” I get right down to the nitty gritty question that will determine if I’m going to go down this path or not. When Stuart had called and informed me that it was quite a bit more complicated than he ever imagined and would take a long time, I became desperate. In my desperation, I called Mario and asked him more about what we had talked about. He offered to set me up with Tanya.

  “You would be making anywhere from three to twenty thousand per night, depending on the needs of the client. Overnight trips are on the higher end, dinners on the lower end. Most of my girls are booked a few nights a week. I must warn you, weekends are our busiest time, so you should plan on working every weekend, should you choose to work here.”

  I nearly choke on my water, “Mario told me that the escorts make good money, but I wasn’t expecting it to be that high.”

  She gives me a warm smile, “Our clients have more money than they know what to do with. We provide a valuable service to them and are compensated greatly.”

  Having already spoken to Mario extensively about me, Tanya asks me only a few questions about myself. Then answers the further questions I have for her. Before I know it, I’m signing a non-disclosure agreement, along with a contract, which she tells me to read over very carefully. It has very important rules in there such as not having a relationship with a client for up to one year after the termination of employment, voluntary or otherwise.

  I also fill out forms that ask for everything about myself, including my bra size. She takes my measurements, and once I’m done, sends me to the photographer she uses just down the street.

  As I walk to the photographer, I process what I’ve just signed myself up for. I’ve been living a lie and hiding secrets for so long; I no longer think of myself as the innocent woman that would always do the right thing. Life these past several months has changed me. I have yet to determine if that is a good thing or not. One thing I know for certain, this job will allow me to be the independent woman I need to be. No longer will I be the innocent girl being used by men like Rich, and if I’m honest with myself, Jake also. No, now I will be the one using men for my needs.

  Chapter 24

  After my meeting with Tanya, I feel hopeful for the first time since I overheard Rich’s conversation a little over six months ago, making my world spin out. I can easily come up with the money to pay off Rich. I cackle as I think of the look on his face when I give him a check. No, I’m going to give him a briefcase full of cash to wipe that smug look on his face. I’m pretty sure Stuart’s theory is right; he was expecting me to not be able to pay him off, forcing me to give up my home to him. Rich wanted to take everything from me, which is ironic considering he is the one that betrayed me.

  I decide to head over to Elena’s. I’ve been ignoring her calls, texts, and visits. She has been respectful enough to not use the key I gave her, and I’m thankful for that. The only person I’ve talked to in a week has been Stuart, and that was just for business.

  “Samantha!” Elena pulls me in a tight hug, “I was so worried about you!” She looks me over, seeming to check for injuries like a mother would. “You look good.”

  “I’m sorry I worried you, Elena,” I hang my head in shame, “I just needed some time to process everything and figure out what I can do to fix this mess.”

  “Well come in, come in,” she steps back and waves me in. “Why don’t you tell me about it over a cup of coffee. I just put cinnamon rolls in the oven a few minutes ago.”

  I follow her into the kitchen, seating myself at the table. The scent of cinnamon assaults my nose, making my stomach growl, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten yet.

  “Looks like you had good timing,” she laughs at the noises my belly is making. She goes about making coffee and then fixes me a sandwich and some fruit. She is going to be an amazing mother.

  In between bites, I fill her in on the details of what happened at court. She tells me that Stuart said it didn’t go well, but everyone would have to ask me for more information. Like the good best friend she is, she swears in her unique way and provides comfort whenever possible. She offers to look over my finances to see if she can find a way to pay off Rich and keep the house.

  “I really appreciate the offer Elena, but I think I’ve solved my problems today,” I tell her. “I’m dressed up because I was on a job interview. It’s a high paying position in special events, publicity and customer relations, that type of thing.” I’m tiptoeing that line of lies again, “Between doing that on evenings and weekends and keeping my day job, I am positive I will make enough to pay Rich off and still afford my house.”

  “That’s wonderful!” Elena gushes as she slides the plate of cinnamon rolls towards me.

  Picking one up, I ask, “So tell me about your pregnancy. Are you feeling better now?”

  “The sickness is finally gone. I’ve already outgrown all my clothes. I didn’t think that I would grow this fast. Thank God Robert thinks pregnant women are sexy!” She giggles, “You wouldn’t believe how much I need sex now. All the pregnancy websites say it’s to be expected, but I really can’t get enough. I think I may have tired poor Robert out.”

  I dramatically bring my arm up to my forehead, “Oh the horror! How ever will he live?” Once we stop laughing, we make plans to go shopping. I need to get some date worthy clothing, including some gowns. I tell her that my job requires me to attend galas and special events. She squeals with excitement at the idea of shopping for “fancy schmancy clothes.”

  Once I go home, I decide that I’m not ready to talk to Jake. I do send him a quick text letting him know that I’m fine and I just need some time to process everything. If he can’t understand that, then he’s not as good of a person as I thought.

  I’m quite surprised when an email comes through from Tanya.

  Welcome to the Belle Regine family! Your profile has been uploaded to our website. You can expect to receive your first assignment details soon. Please check your email often, as some assignments are last minute. Please be sure to read the entire contents, making special care to follow the requested attire details. Our beautiful queens are a reflection of our brand and expected to always maintain the highest degree of professionalism.

  If you have any questions on your assignments, please contact Sasha immediately. Her information is included at the bottom of this email.

  Sincerely,

  Tanya Palermo

  I smile to myself, proud to be taking control of my own destiny. I only hope that it doesn’t take too long to get a gig. I’m going to have to drain my savings to purchase dresses. I can’t make money without investing money. Hopefully Elena will come through on finding discount stores and that they will be able to meet whatever the client requests.

  It only takes three hours for my first assignment, plus two more, to come through. The first one is a private dinner tomorrow night. The client prefers the color blue, minimal makeup, and naturally styled hair. The email indicates that I need to dress classy. The client, who is a middle-aged businessman, will pick me up at my home at 7pm sharp. I’m intrigued by the amount of details about the client, including his hobbies and line of work. I guess to provide entertainment, Tanya expects me to be well rounded in the subjects that interest the client. It provides me with a little more clarity on why the service is so popular.

  The second assignment is for a gala fundraiser on Saturday with a baseball player. It is a black-tie affair, gown required. The client prefers dresses that show off curves but is still conservative. He requires me to wear a red gown to match his red cummerbund. Hair professionally styled in an updo and makeup to be photographable. There is a footnote of what salon to visit to have my hair and makeup done. The cost will be charged to Belle Regine, taken out of my pay, and is already set for the appropriate time. Well, at least I don’t have to front that part of it. It also says to have my dress with me because the client will pick me up at the salon, wanting to arrive together.

  The third assig
nment is on Sunday afternoon. I certainly hope Saturday is not too late of a night. I am to dress casually, in muted colors. “Dress to not stand out,” is the most information I am given. After the detail on the previous ones, the lack of guidance is a little surprising. It makes me more nervous for this one than the gala. I would hate for one of my dates to go wrong. I read the essentials of the event, which is attending a doctor’s young nephew’s birthday party at a local roller-skating rink, followed by dinner. It gives the address of where I am to meet him. I would never, in my wildest dreams, think that an escort would be hired to attend a kid’s birthday party.

  Now, what to do about my nosy neighbors? I’m going to have to keep yet another secret from Elena. I keep telling myself that omitting information is not lying, but I feel that twinge of guilt when I tell her that I have three work events this week and need to go shopping for a red gown. I already have the perfect blue dress in my closet. I had worn it to my second anniversary dinner with Rich. I can’t help but feel that it’s a big fuck you to him, to be wearing the dress he bought me while on my first job that will help me to pay him off. I’ll take my little pieces of revenge wherever I can get them.

  ∞∞∞

  A couple of months have passed by and business has been booming. I’ve been out with clients three to four nights a week. I’ve saved up enough money to not only pay off Rich, but to put a significant amount away in my savings. I haven’t given Rich the money yet. I want to make him think that he’s got me, so I am waiting until the last moment to deliver the payment. I’ve asked Stuart to set up a meeting with him and his attorney so that I can deliver the suitcase full of cash. I look forward to seeing the look on his face.

  I check the time and see that I still have a little bit before I’m to meet my client here at the hotel bar. I signal the bartender for a refill on my lemon spritzer.

 

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