“But you want that dick again, don’t you?” she says with a devilish smile.
I can’t help but smile back. “It was soooo good, Em. You have no idea.”
“I know! I want an idea of how any dick feels.”
Shelia and Vivian return with some drinks and all talk of escorts and dicks subside and we enjoy our night. With each drink, Shelia begins opening up a bit more and is actually pretty funny. Vivian isn’t as much of a bitch when she drinks, but she’s definitely sluttier. She dances with any and everybody on the dance floor, grinding her ass on men’s crotches, putting her face in women’s cleavage; it’s entertaining that’s for sure. Em and I dance and ogle some eye candy. We play a game called ‘who do you think’s an escort?’ and laugh the night away. We never see Charles again, which disappoints Emilie a little.
At some point we lose track of Vivian and Shelia. We wander around the place, looking for them, but they seem to have left. It’s late and Em and I want to get home, so Emilie shoots Shelia a text, hoping she’ll see it eventually. We leave the club arm in arm and find a cab. As we’re getting into the back seat, I’m pretty sure I see Jace get out of the cab ahead of us, and enter the club we just came out of. But I’m drunk, and my eyes are tired, so I don’t bother thinking about it.
Come Monday morning it’s back to business as usual. I spent my weekend recovering from my hangover. I had no desire to do anything but lie around in pajamas, eat junk food, and watch movies.
Now I’m back at the office, listening to messages, responding to emails, and getting ready to meet with Mrs. Roberts again. Her daughter’s wedding is this Saturday, so she’s become even crazier. I wonder if they call brides bridezillas, then what do they call the moms of the brides? Momzillas? I’ve only spoken with her daughter a handful of times; she seems to be letting her mom do whatever will make her happy.
The phone on my desk rings. “Hello?”
“Hi, I’m not sure if you’re the person I need to talk to or not, but hopefully you can help me,” the deep but playful voice says on the other end.
“Well, I’m not sure, but I’ll do my best,” I respond.
“Great. I’m looking for somebody to help me with a grand opening of a club.”
“Okay, Mr…”
“Edwards. Sorry.”
“That’s fine. Mr. Edwards, I can definitely see what I can do for you. If you don’t mind, I’ll patch you through to my assistant and she’ll take down any information you have. I have a meeting with a client very soon, otherwise I’d do it.”
“Oh, that’s perfect. Thank you so much, Ms…”
“Miller,” I laugh. “Sorry about that.”
His deep laugh echoes over the phone. “It’s no problem. I look forward to working with you, Ms. Miller. Have a good day.”
“You too. I’ll talk to you soon.”
I patch him through to my assistant, Cindy, and two minutes later Mrs. Roberts walks in.
“Adrienne, dear! Please tell me that everything is going according to plan. I’m about to have a nervous breakdown.”
“It’s nice to see you again, Mrs. Roberts. Yes, everything is fine,” I say with a smile.
“Good. That’s great to hear. I’m about to shoot the seamstress. She’s messed up on my daughter’s dress, and I’ve had to bombard her with phone calls and visits to make sure she fixes it before Saturday.”
“I’m sure she’s enjoying that,” I say with a smirk.
“Now, Adrienne. You know I’m a sweet old lady; some people just push my buttons. Is it so much to ask that everybody do their job?”
“No, ma’am. Just don’t go shooting anybody, or you’ll miss the wedding you’ve stressed over for so long.”
“Well, I couldn’t do that.”
“How’s everything else going?” I ask.
“Dreadful. I have family coming in, and that’s just a problem in itself.”
“Why’s that?”
“You haven’t met my family, Adrienne, but you will on Saturday,” she says.
“Well if they’re anything like you, I’m sure I’ll love them,” I say and give her a playful smile.
“I’m the nicest one,” she replies with her own smile.
“Oh goodness.”
We both laugh. Working with Mrs. Roberts has been a pain in my ass at times, but I like the old lady. We’ve developed a nice relationship.
“Well, Mrs. Roberts, I’ll be on location Friday night to make sure everything is perfect, and then of course be there early Saturday to make sure the caterers and everybody is in place and doing what they’re supposed to. You won’t have to worry about anything, that’s my job.”
“You’re a sweetheart. Thank you, Adrienne.”
“It’s no problem.”
“Well, I’m off. I have to deal with some unruly kids.”
“Good luck,” I say with a laugh.
She waves and walks out.
About twenty minutes later, Cindy walks into my office. “Hey, so I just got off the phone with Mr. Edwards, and he gave me his contact information, I wrote down all of his ideas and he wants you to meet with him.”
“Okay, when?”
“He wants to know if you’re free for lunch.”
“Today?” I screech.
She gives me a sympathetic smile. “Yeah. He said is schedule is full for a while and is free this afternoon.”
“Well, that’s good for him. I’m busy.” I start stacking papers on my desk so I can get a clear view of the giant calendar I have stuck to the top of my desk. “I have a phone call with Mr. Martinez, I have to check in with the crew that’s setting up the Roberts’ wedding, and I have to put together a little portfolio of ideas for this other client.”
“I know, but the Roberts wedding will be done soon, and you could use another client. Plus, he sounds super-hot on the phone. Maybe he’ll be single,” she says with a coy smile.
“I don’t need a boyfriend. What is up with everyone trying to get me laid, or in a relationship? Geez,” I huff.
“Calm down. I was just playing.”
“Sorry, Cindy. I’m just frustrated.”
“It’s fine. What do you want me to tell Mr. Edwards?”
I let out a drawn out sigh. “I’ll meet him. A girl needs to eat.”
“Atta girl. I’ll let him know, and then get back to you.”
“Kay.”
I send off a few emails, and then call Mr. Martinez about his company party. While I’m on the phone, Cindy walks in and sticks a post-it note on my desk. The note just lets me know when and where to meet Mr. Edwards.
Once I’m off the phone, I run to the bathroom and freshen up. I have my hair in a bun, so I just put some water on some of my fly-aways, and hope they stay down. I reapply some lip gloss and try to smooth out my black pencil skirt.
I’m meeting Mr. Edwards at a little café that’s only a block and a half away from my building, so I decide to just walk down there. As soon as I arrive, I quickly make my way out of the sweltering heat, and into the air conditioned building. It’s pretty small, but there aren’t many people here. I order a sandwich, a small salad, and grab a water bottle. Sitting at a corner table with a view of the door, I eat and wait for my new potential client to walk in.
It’s only a minute later when the door chimes, and I look up to see a ridiculously attractive man standing at the door. He’s wearing a blue suit with what looks like a light pink dress shirt, his blonde hair is perfectly combed, and he’s looking around the café. When he makes eye contact with me, he gives me a smile. He begins to approach, so I stand up.
“Ms. Miller?” he asks.
“Yes, that’s me. Nice to me you, sir,” I say as I shake his hand.
“You, too. Do you mind if I order some food?”
“No. Please,” I say, gesturing towards the counter.
Once he collects his lunch, he comes and sits across from me.
“Thank you so much for meeting with me. I know it was very last minute
, but I just don’t have an opening in my schedule for a while. I’m about to go out of town, you see, so I wanted to get together and figure as much out as possible.”
“Oh, I see. That’s perfectly fine. No problem,” I say with a smile.
“Wonderful. So where do we start?” he asks before taking a bite of his burger.
“Well, if you could just tell me about the event you want me to plan, and which services you’d like me to be in charge of, that would be great. I have the notes my assistant Cindy took down, but if you’d like to specify anything, please do.”
“Well, the club is three floors, different themes on each. I explained to Cindy what each floor consisted of, so I won’t bore you with those details again,” he says with a grin.
“Right, I have those here. I gotta admit, Mr. Edwards, it sounds like it’s going to be an amazing club.”
“I certainly hope so.”
“I’m going to be honest, sir. I’m not sure what all you want me to do. Since it’s a club, you’ll obviously have drinks and music readily available, and I’m sure the décor will be up for the opening.”
“Yes, that’s all true, but because it’s the Grand Opening, I want there to be some sort of raffle tickets for prizes. Now I’ll be honest with you, even though I’d like to say I know a lot about women, I don’t know what kind of prizes they’d like to win. If you could find out if we could put together salon packages or something along that line, that would be great.”
I smile at him. “I can definitely help with that. I’ll just talk with some of my closest friends and co-workers, and see what they’d like to win, and go from there. Now what about prizes for men?”
“Well, again, I don’t know. I know what I like, but I don’t know what other men would like.”
“That’s fine. I’ll figure it out. You’ll just have to let me know your budget. What about food? Little h’orderves on each level?”
“That will be fine. Each level extends outdoors, so maybe we can set up some serving tables out there.”
I nod as I jot down notes in my little notebook that I brought along.
“When will I be able to see the club? I’ll just need a quick walkthrough so I can get a better idea on where things will go, and maybe get some other ideas.”
“I’ll talk to the contractors and then get in touch with you. It’s not quite ready yet, but once it’s safe for you to walk through, I’ll be sure to let you know.”
“Sounds good. How long will you be out of town for?”
“Only about a week, maybe two.”
“Business or pleasure?” I ask, and instantly regret being so nosey.
He gives me his most charming smile. “I try to include a little pleasure in everything I do.”
I feel the heat in my cheeks. “I see,” I respond. “I’m sorry for being intrusive. That was really none of my business.”
“It’s fine Ms. Miller. No worries. You know what they say about all work and no play, right? We all need to play a little, or we may go crazy.
“Very true,” I say, remembering Mrs. Roberts saying almost the same thing.
He finishes his food, and empties the rest of his water bottle into his mouth.
“Well, Ms. Miller, it was a pleasure. Thank you again.”
I stand up and we walk towards the door. “No problem, sir. I’ll get some ideas together and email you to see what you think.”
“Great. We’ll speak soon, then.”
We shake hands outside, and then turn and walk in opposite directions. It’s time for me to get back to the office, and start coming up with ideas for his opening.
I hate rushing. After taking a five minute shower I look for something to throw on. I figure business casual will do and put on some jeans, a blue shirt and a white blazer. Since I don’t have time to wait for a cab, I get into my Bentley and rush through traffic, hoping like hell that I’m not late. Fucking Troy waited until this morning to tell me that I needed to meet with this lady when he knew about it yesterday. He knows I hate being late. It’s a terrible impression to make when you’re meeting someone for the first time, especially someone you hope to do business with.
When I arrive, I quickly get out of the car, hit the alarm and speed walk to the front door. It’s five minutes past the arranged meeting time. Not too bad. Walking in, I see a woman walking around with a notepad and taking notes. She’s clear across the room and unaware of my presence. I get closer before I speak up so I don’t have to yell, but when I almost reach her, I stop in my tracks. Is this really my luck? I decide to stay where I am, and lean up against a pillar, waiting for her to turn around.
She never turns around so I clear my throat to get her attention. When she realizes someone is here, her body quickly turns around and as soon as she sees me her mouth opens a little bit.
“Hello, gorgeous,” I say with a smile.
“What are you doing here?” she asks.
“I was told I needed to meet an event planner. I take it that’s you.”
“Yes, and I was told by Mr. Edwards that I was going to be meeting a Mr. Thompson.”
“Well, my friend, Mr. Thompson informed me this morning that he wouldn’t be able to make it, so here I am,” I say, extending my arms.
“I see. You want to go ahead and get started?” she asks, looking a little nervous.
“You just want to walk through first?”
“Yes, sir, that’s fine.”
“Adrienne,” I say with a laugh, “You don’t have to call me sir. I mean, really, it’s a little strange.”
“Oh, should I just call you king?” she says with a playful look on her face.
A smile stretches across my face. “That works for me. By the way, have you met any other kings lately?”
She blushes and looks down at her notepad. “Just the one,” she says.
“Told you. The one and only.”
“Shall we?” she asks, nodding towards the rest of the room.
I smile and nod at her. We walk through the entire first floor of the club, and she pauses in certain areas and writes something down. I can’t help but stare at her perfect figure. She’s wearing a form fitting purple top that’s tucked into a black skirt, and both fit her body perfectly. Her legs are covered by black pantyhose, but the purple heels she has on still makes them look great.
When we get up to the second level, she finally breaks the silence.
“Oh wow,” she breathes.
“Yeah. This is Troy’s level.”
“Mr. Thompson?” she asks.
“Yeah. Each level is designed by one of us. The first one was Marc’s. Mine is the top floor.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Figures you’d be on the top.”
“I like being on the bottom too,” I respond with a grin.
“Is that all you think about?” she asks, shaking her head.
“You don’t think about sex?” I retort.
She doesn’t answer right away; she just turns around and begins inspecting everything.
“Come on! Women think about sex just as much as men do.”
“I never said we didn’t. I just think this is inappropriate to talk about since I’m working for you now.”
“I don’t think it’s inappropriate. I don’t care if you want to talk about sex. I promise I won’t fire you.”
“Geez. Thanks.”
“Adrienne, I’ve had your legs wrapped around me.” I step closer to her, and bring my mouth to her ear. “I’ve tasted that tight pussy of yours.” Standing straight in front of her, I bring my thumb to her lips while my hand rests on the bottom of her face. “Your juices coated my lips.”
Her breath hitches, and she licks her lips, but in the process, licks my thumb. I drop my hand and we’re left staring into each other’s eyes.
“Nothing you say to me will be inappropriate,” I say softly. “So tell me, have you thought about me?”
She takes a small step back and runs her hands down her skirt while avoiding my ey
es. I lift her chin until she’s looking at me again.
“I’ve thought about you,” I say honestly.
“I doubt that,” she says quietly.
I let go of her face, but this time she continues to watch me.
“What makes you think that?” I ask.
“Jace, look, I’m going to be honest okay? Hopefully your promise to not fire me will stand.”
“I’m not going to fire you. Just tell me.”
“Okay. I know you see lots of other women. I’ve seen you with several different ones, and I’m only assuming that you sleep with them, too. You’re attractive, and I’m sure women throw themselves at you, and being a guy, you aren’t going to turn them down. I get it. So I’m sure having sex with me once isn’t making you forget all your other women, or even having you wanting to stop seeing other women. I’m not naïve.”
She’s seen me with other women? I’ve only seen her once when I was with a client. Shit. I wonder just how many women she’s seen me with.
“Well, I don’t know how many women you’ve seen me with, but I can tell you that I’m almost a hundred percent sure that I didn’t sleep with all of the ones you saw me with. I won’t insult you by lying and say that I haven’t slept with other women. I have. A lot of them. That doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about you, though. I can’t fully explain to you why you’re different than those other women other than saying you’re the one woman I’ve wanted to be with in a long time.”
I can’t tell her that I’m only with the other women because they request me and pay to spend time with me. She probably won’t believe me, but it’s not easy to tell someone you’ve slept with that you’re an escort. I’m not lying when I say that I’ve thought about her. She’s definitely my type, and I’m not used to being with my type of women. I’m so used to putting on a front and pretending to be interested in women that I wouldn’t give a second look on the streets.
“So you go out with and sleep with women that you don’t want to be with? That doesn’t make sense to me. Why do it?”
“They want to be with me,” I reply.
She scoffs and rolls her eyes.
“Look, I’m about to begin working with this business full time,” I say, gesturing towards the club. “I won’t be dating a lot of women.” Meaning, I’ll be out of the escort business, but I can’t say that.
Living in Sin (The Escort Series) Page 11