by E. L. Todd
“Sounds good so far…”
Troy held up a finger. “Wait for it.”
I drank my beer again.
“We get through the ceremony and dinner. I meet her parents and they like me. Everything was going great. But then we ran into her ex.”
“Isn’t he the reason she hired you as her escort?”
“Yeah,” Troy said. “Apparently, he cheated on her with her friend and she wanted to prove she was over him.”
“Did it work?”
“The guy came at me swinging.”
“What?” I asked incredulously. “He didn’t say a word? He just attacked you?”
“I don’t know, man.” He finished his beer then waved at the bartender for another. “I turned and he was barreling down on me.”
“What happened?”
“What do you think happened?” he snapped. “I beat the shit out of him.” He pointed to his face. “I can’t damage this. This is my livelihood right here. No guy is going to mess it up.”
I nodded in agreement. “And then?”
“People broke us apart but he was in bad shape. They called an ambulance because he had a concussion. My date attended to him with tears in her eyes. Long story short, they got back together.”
“Well, at least it had a happy ending,” I said with a laugh.
“I guess,” he agreed. “But once a cheater, always a cheater. She made a mistake.”
“That’s not always the case.”
A sarcastic laugh escaped his lips. “If a guy doesn’t have the balls to be upfront about his intentions, then he isn’t going to be upfront about any aspect of his life. He prefers to hide in the shadows and cover up his mistakes. Every behavior is connected to every other behavior. If someone is a liar, then they’ll lie about everything. If someone is a cheater, they won’t respect any partner they have. I’m telling you, I know.”
I suspected his philosophy had something to do with the bad break up he had a few years ago. “You’re right. I’m not disagreeing with that. But I think some people can change. It’s rare but it happens.”
“I’ve never seen it,” he said seriously.
“Maybe you need to look harder.”
The bartender brought his second beer. “The glass just came out of the freezer.” She gave him a playful smile, and I swear I saw her bat her eyelashes.
“Thanks, Brooke,” Troy said with a smile. “You always take care of me.”
She stood there for a moment, like she expected something to happen. “Well, let me know if you need anything else.”
“I will,” he said. “Thank you.”
When she was gone, I shifted my gaze back to him. “She’s into you.” I rested my arm on the back of the booth then looked out the window.
“I know.” He took a drink then rested his elbows on the table.
“Not interested?”
He shook his head. “Nah.” Troy was quiet about his personal life. If he were seeing someone, he probably wouldn’t tell me about it. It was ironic since we’d been best friends for years. After his last serious girlfriend, he hadn’t been hot on the dating scene. “What’s new with you?” he asked.
“Nothing, really.”
“Any escort dates gone haywire?” He drank half his beer in a single gulp.
I’d never been able to keep up with him. “No, I escorted this girl for a long time so her family would get off her back. Then that ended.”
“Why?” he asked. “Didn’t need you after the holidays?”
“No. She breached the contract.”
He shook his head slightly and gave me a knowing look. “If I had a nickel every time the contract was breached, I wouldn’t even need this job.”
I chuckled slightly. “You’re right about that.”
“So, what was it? Sex? Kissing?”
“Neither,” I said. “She told me she was in love with me.”
He sighed in an irritated way. “She hoped you felt the same way?”
“Unfortunately.”
“This is what I don’t get.” He started talking with his hands, his usual move when he was extremely passionate about something. “All women think we’re going to change our minds. That we make the rules in order to break them. It’s like it makes them want us more.”
“There are worse problems than having women wants us,” I said with a grin.
“But we’re running a business here,” he said. “It’s an exchange of goods. We act like perfect boyfriends or whatever they want us to be and they pay us. Then we go our separate ways. We’re an escort service, not a boyfriend service.”
I agreed with him completely and utterly. But I also understood emotions could be complicated. “I think they grow attached to us and want our services to continue indefinitely. That’s all.”
“Whatever the case may be, it’s annoying.” He finished his second beer. “Delicious.”
I was still on my first one. “If I didn’t know you so well, I’d say you had a drinking problem.”
“It’s only two beers.”
“Are you telling me you aren’t about to order a third one?” I challenged.
He narrowed his eyes at me, irritated I could predict his behavior so well. “No, I’m not.”
I laughed. “Damn liar.”
“Who cares how many beers I drink?”
“I do,” I said honestly. “I don’t want you to stumble into a gutter then get your skull run over by the city bus.”
“Like you wouldn’t rejoice if that happened.” He looked out the window.
“I admit the world would be a better place. But I would care—a little.”
He rolled his eyes. “Shut the hell up, Rhett. You’re nothing without me.”
That was true. Having someone to confide everything to without judgment was nice. He didn’t always reciprocate but I knew it wasn’t personal. Not everyone had friends they considered to be family. I was one of the lucky few. “I wouldn’t say that, but I would sorely miss you.”
“That’s better,” he mumbled. “Have you had that date yet?”
I met a girl through mutual friends and we were going out tomorrow. “Not yet.”
“She’s pretty cute. I hope you score.”
I shrugged, not really caring if I did or not.
“You don’t sound excited.”
“Every time I tell a date what I do for a living, they get weird about it.”
He clanked his empty glass against mine. “I hear ya.”
“I’m not a prostitute,” I argued. “There’s not even kissing involved. As soon as I say the word escort, jealousy and rage burns in their eyes. Then it goes nowhere.”
“Just lie,” he said. “Say you’re a…cab driver or something.”
“A cab driver?” I asked incredulously.
“Do you not know what a cab driver is?” he asked. “They drive around the city and—”
“I know what a cab driver is, Troy.”
“Good. Tell them you do that.”
“I’m sure girls love that…”
“Ooh!” He snapped his fingers. “CIA operative. Chicks are into that.”
I gave him a serious look. “Do I look like a CIA operative?”
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never seen one before.”
I finished my beer and let the comment go. “Hopefully I’ll at least get laid.”
“Dry spell?”
“Not really,” I said. “But anytime I go on a date, I hope that’s where it will lead.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
I shrugged. “If I like her, I’ll ask her out again. If not, that’s the end.”
“You know, we could just become a real escort service and charge women big bucks to make them come.”
“A glorified prostitute?” I asked.
“We don’t use real names so what does it matter?”
“Could you really do that for a living?” I asked. “Because I want to get married and have kids someday. I’d be prett
y ashamed if that’s how I made my living. At least this is friendly more than anything else.”
He shrugged. “The money would be amazing…”
“I’ll pass.” I gave him a pointed look. “I know you would too.”
“Maybe…maybe not.” He eyed the bar then turned back to me. “So, how much are you going to judge me if I order another beer?”
“Not at all,” I said seriously. “Like always.”
He clanked his empty glass against mine again. “I knew you were my friend for a reason.”
***
I sat at the table near the window and waited for my date to arrive. I offered to pick her up but she insisted on meeting at the restaurant. I didn’t ask any questions. Whatever the lady wanted, the lady would get.
She finally entered through the main doors and searched for me in the crowded room. Silverware scratched against plates and quiet chatter created the backdrop for the evening. Low burning candles sat at every table, and chandeliers glowed dimly from the ceiling.
I stood up so she would see me. I wore slacks and a collared shirt, wanting to be formal but not overbearingly stiff. My hands were in my pockets and I waited for her to notice me.
When she did, she headed my way, a nice smile on her lips. “I apologize for being late.”
“No need for apology.” I greeted her with a hug then pulled out the chair for her. I knew every manner that ever existed, and I knew how to act like a gentleman since it was my job. Now it was second nature to me.
“Thank you.” She sat down then put her purse down on the chair beside her.
I sat across from her. “I ordered a bottle of wine. I hope you like red.”
“I like anything with alcohol,” she said immediately.
“Then we’ll get along just fine.” I didn’t know Laura very well. We were barely on a first name basis. But she seemed cool. And, of course, she was pretty.
We made small talk about sports and TV shows. She used to play the violin when she was young but quit when she entered high school. Soon after, cheerleading consumed her life. And then in college, all she did was study. I told her a little bit about myself, skipping over the fact I was an escort, and tried to stick to safe topics.
Like always, I was fairly bored. Laura was very nice and beautiful but I didn’t feel that pull that should come naturally in romance. It seemed to be impossible for me to feel a connection with anyone. It was odd because I got along with everyone I met. I wasn’t judgmental and I didn’t think anyone was beneath me. But I just didn’t feel anything—period.
She brought up her job even though I didn’t ask. She was a jewelry saleswoman for a place in Soho. It seemed like she enjoyed it. She was knowledgeable about diamonds and distinguishing their quality. It was a subject I knew nothing about.
“What do you do?” she asked. “Troy never told me.”
Lying would be the easy way out. I could make up something, we would finish dinner, and then I would probably get laid. She was clearly interested in me, and her leg kept grazing mine under the table. She looked into my blue eyes like it was too hard to look away. “I’m an escort.” I said it simply and didn’t beat around the bush.
She stared at me like she hadn’t heard me. “Sorry?”
“I’m an escort,” I repeated. I wasn’t ashamed of it and I didn’t care if people judged me for it.
“Like…you have sex with people for money?” Disdain was in her voice. All the interest she had completely disappeared.
“No, never,” I said calmly. “People mainly hire me so they can pretend they have a boyfriend. It gets family members off their backs or it makes their exes jealous. While there’s handholding and innocent touches, there is no kissing or anything else physical involved. It’s very professional.”
She nodded slowly. “I see…”
Yeah, I lost her.
Some girls didn’t care and thought it was interesting. Others, like this one, immediately hated the idea. I could see it in her green eyes and the rigidness of her shoulders. “I’ve been doing it for a while. It’s also a companion service. I have one client that I meet at the park once a week and we play checkers. I do various things like that, not just pretending to be someone’s love interest.”
She nodded again. “Okay…”
I was immediately irritated but I didn’t show it. What I did for a living wasn’t that odd. It wasn’t traditional, I admit that, but it didn’t make me a bad person. If people understood what I did, the fact I actually help people, they wouldn’t look down on me like this.
Fortunately, dinner was finished and the tab was sitting at the edge of the table. I slipped the money inside so we could go our separate ways and never see each other again.
She held her silence, her lips pressed tightly together in agitation.
Laura liked the rest of me, my hobbies and my personality. But all that was irrelevant compared to how I made a living. I tried not to take it offensively. Everyone was different, and some people just couldn’t handle something so unique. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Laura.” I stood up to embrace her.
She grabbed her purse and turned away. Without saying thank you for the meal or the evening, she walked out. Never once did she look back. The last thing I saw was her blonde hair as it disappeared out the door.
Aspen
Every year since I could remember, Harper and I gave each other flowers on our birthdays. We always left them on the doorstep in the morning, so as soon as the other woke up, the start of our birthday, no matter how old we felt, would make our day start off right.
I walked into the floral shop on the corner of fifth and Lankershim and perused the arrangements. Most people spent a long time choosing birthday cards because they had to be just right. Half an hour could pass and they wouldn’t realize how much time they had wasted until they checked the time. That’s how I was when I picked out flowers for my best friend. They had to be perfect.
They couldn’t be the same color as last year, and they couldn’t be the same flower either. I doubt Harper would even know since she wasn’t a flower expert and didn’t have the best memory, but that didn’t matter. It was important to me.
I browsed through the rows and examined the various arrangements. I preferred to get her something in a vase so it would be ready to place on her kitchen table once she noticed them on her doorstep. She didn’t even need to add water.
Deep maroon petals caught my eye when I heard a voice that immediately sent my body into defensive mode.
“We have to have lilies,” the woman said. “Roses are tacky and overdone. I can’t count the number of weddings I’ve been to this year alone where the roses were overkill.” She had the voice of a fashion girl who flicked her wrist with every word she said. Without looking at her, I knew she was wearing a three hundred dollar pair of shoes and a purse that could pay someone’s monthly mortgage.
I was in the back of the store, blocked in. If I moved, I would be seen over the arrangements of flowers.
“What does John like?” another girl asked. It was Casey, her best friend.
I hated hearing his name. It was like a poison dart just penetrated my skin and impaled me with a deadly substance. My heart palpitated as the memories swept through me. But now I saw them behind my eyes with nothing but regret.
“Oh, John doesn’t care.” I actually imagined her flipping her blonde hair over one shoulder. “He’ll do whatever I say. No questions asked.” She said it like it was something to be proud of, that her man was either too weak or too stupid to question her. I wasn’t sure why I was ever with John to begin with. I preferred a man with a backbone.
I needed to get out of there. Her voice was like nails on a chalkboard. My ears burned with every spoken word. How did John put up with the sound of her voice? I guess it didn’t matter because he probably only listened to her when her back was on a mattress and he was thrusting inside her.
“Would you like to look at our arrangements?” the florist asked.
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You’ve got to be kidding me. Now what do I do?
“Yes, let’s do it,” she said.
Okay, I could try to sneak out like a coward or I could just hold my ground. Honestly, I just wanted to flee, and if I could slip out without being noticed, I would. But that didn’t seem possible.
I turned my head sideways and pretended to be particularly interested in a vase of roses since I knew she wouldn’t look at them. It seemed like a safe place to try and obscure my face.
“Most of these are ugly,” she mumbled to Casey. But if I heard it, so did the florists. And that was pretty rude.
The fact she was so abrasive and inconsiderate made me question myself. I could talk shit about her all I wanted, but when it came down to it, John preferred her over me. So, I obviously had worse flaws. But I didn’t know what they were because he never told me.
“These are okay,” she said when she stopped a few feet away from me. “What do you think, Cass?”
I touched the rose gently like I was seriously considering it.
“Is there anything I can help you with, miss?” the florist asked.
Goddammit, leave me alone. “No, just browsing.” I kept my face turned the opposite way.
“Pardon?” she asked, clearly not hearing me since I hadn’t looked at her when I spoke.
“I’m okay,” I said a little louder.
“Like, oh my god.” When my arch nemesis said those words, I knew exactly why. “Casey, guess who’s here?” Her whispers turned to excited taunts.
I’d been found. And there was nothing I could do about it.
“Hey, Aspen.” She said it enthusiastically, like she was absolutely delighted to find me cornered and alone. “Just buying yourself some flowers? To cure the blues?”
“I bet she’s sending them to herself too,” Casey said. “To make it seem like a surprise.”
I’d met a few bitches in my day, but these women were the queens. I turned to them and mustered a fake smile. “I’m buying flowers for my best friend. It’s her birthday.” These bullies couldn’t intimidate me if they tried.
“Oh, how lovely,” Isabella said with a fake smile. Her blonde hair framed her face and her perfect body was highlighted by the skin-tight dress she wore. Any time I saw her, whether it was in the morning or late at night, she was dressed like a celebrity. “At least you have someone to spend time with.”