LOVER FOR PAY: The Escort & The Teacher (M/M)

by A. J. Blake

  Marbell had no idea what to say after London’s confession. If he hadn’t reminded himself to breathe, he would have fallen over in his chair. He wanted to gather enough words to admit all the same things, but couldn’t crease them together quite as nicely as London had. Instead, all he replied with was, “I love you so much.”

  Still acquiring the taste of the word on his tongue, London gave a small smile, and said, “Not as much as I love you, Marbell. Not even close.”

  It was nearing ten o’clock at night by the time London and Marbell got back to the apartment. They’d spent a good amount of time walking around the city when they finished at the restaurant, and when they stepped through the door, it was nice to find the kids asleep. Sure, Joyce had managed to leave her toys all over the place, but she’d hit the sack alongside Henry in the theater.

  As London carried Joyce to her cluttered bedroom, Marbell covered Henry with a blanket from the closet in the hall. When he’d finished, he watched London from the hall as he tucked Joyce into her own bed, knowing he could be watching his future playing out before his very eyes...if only he had the courage to make it so.

  XV – Coward

  Marbell had woken up before everyone the next day. He stood in the living room blowing at the surface of his coffee, eyes out the window looking over the busy Sunday morning. Dressed in navy slacks and a lavender shirt, his tie hung loosely around his neck from not having fixed it yet. Yesterday couldn’t have been more perfect of a day, as well as the night that followed. Even with all the bullshit surrounding them, they’d managed to have a nice romantic time together. Ever since waking up this morning, the words of admiration London spoke the night before stayed with him.

  From the time when he was a child, Marbell had felt like he was the epitome of insignificant, that no one needed him, and that he would never amount to anything at all. Some would argue he had absolutely nothing to be woeful over. With all the money in the world to last several lifetimes, there were countless things to buy, and he could spend to satisfy every desire brought on by selfishness. And Marbell had tried that. He bought numerous things to keep him occupied, this very apartment being one of them. His Fisker Karma, private jet, multiple vacation homes around the world, even the mere television behind him, were just purchases he thought would make him feel better.

  But nothing worked.

  Money doesn’t buy happiness.

  For some people, that was a phrase that ate at the skin, because, for some people, it was the furthest thing from the truth. Money could definitely buy happiness for those who never got the chance to live with the luxuries provided to Marbell at a young age.

  With all of his purchases, however, there was one that was never a waste: his first attempt at buying sex to satisfy a frustration that developed over time. It sounded sick, but if Marbell hadn’t been in desperation for the touch and sexual fulfillment of bedding another man, he’d have never had means to pay for a lover, one by the name of London.

  So, yes, for once the money he had bought him happiness, and not a penny of it went to waste. Until London’s mother stole it all, but that wasn’t the point.

  Swigging back a bit of his coffee after it’d cooled down, Marbell turned away from the window when he felt a presence nearby. It was Henry standing at the end of the corridor beside the kitchen. He stood there in fitting jeans, and a black and blue shirt he’d gotten from the arcade the other day.

  “Good morning,” Marbell said, “Are you hungry? I can make breakfast.”

  “No,” Henry declined, “I’m okay, for now. Is my brother awake?”

  Marbell took a seat on the sofa, nearly spilling his coffee on his shirt. “He’s still asleep.”

  “Can we talk for a minute, then? I just wanted to set some things straight with you.” Henry sounded a lot more serious than he ever did in class, using a tone that made his teacher a little anxious. “It’s about London.”

  In a small way it was still strange to think of himself dating one his student’s guardians, but Marbell set the bizarre feeling aside, and said, “Go ahead.”

  The sixteen-year-old took a seat beside his teacher, just a cushion apart, and leaned back idly. For a second he wondered if any other kids had ever took the time to sit down and have a heart to heart with their teacher, especially if it was about the secret affair they were involved in. Probably not, to be honest, so Henry alone wasn’t really sure where to start or how to start without coming off as discourteous.

  “Uh,” he just came out with it, “I don’t want you to hurt my brother, Mister Matthews. By the way you interact with him and the way he is when you’re around, I can tell off the bat that you two have something serious here, and that’s fine, that’s completely fine by me. Actually, since I was younger and growing up with him, I’ve never seen London happier than he has been in these past couple days. He laughs more, he smiles more, and I have no doubt in my mind that it’s all because of you. As I’m sure you know, our dad was a real piece of literal shit, to him more than anyone else in the world, and if my brother wasn’t as strong as I know he is, he would be buried somewhere in a graveyard, and our dad would have gone to prison for killing him and not some poor random people.

  “It’s just, with everything he alone has been through, I would hate to see him hurt again like he’d been when I was little.” Henry looked his teacher in the eye now, “You’re married, Mister Matthews, so in the end you’re going to have to make that choice of whether you want to spend the rest of your life with someone who actually gives a shit about you and not your money, or if you’ll spend it with someone whose eyes see only dollar signs when they look at you. Because, I mean this when I say it, my brother will not tolerate it forever. Just like he did with my dad, London will make the decision to leave first and never look back if things don’t change the way he hopes they will.”

  Unbeknownst to Henry or Marbell, London stood around the bend of hall, having heard every word his younger brother had to say, and he was able to vouch for Henry, as well.

  London truly loved Marbell, and could not see himself falling for someone else the way he had this man, but if Marbell didn’t get all of this straightened out sooner or later, London wouldn’t put himself through the torment of living in secret forever. Henry was right. Even with how hard London knew it’d be to pry his feelings from Marbell, to move on to other things, London would cut all contact with the one person he saw himself building a future with to save his rationality.

  Marbell sighed, Henry’s words hitting him hard. Right now, he was a complete opposite of the boy who sat in his fourth period geometry class. “I wouldn’t want that for London,” the teacher said, “To live like this, in secret, and I know the whole outcome of whether our relationship will last is up to me. I am aware of that.”

  “So you’ll divorce that blackmailing bitch, right?” Henry asked.

  “Yes,” Marbell said, “But divorce is not as simple as you may think it is. Nothing is ever simple when you’re me.”

  Henry pushed himself up from the sofa, “Just so long as you dump the bitch.”

  Before either of them could catch him in the hall, London slipped into the room Joyce had been sleeping in. She was wide awake now, still in her hero costume with the mask on backwards. Playing with her new princess doll, she looked up at her brother and made a distasteful face. “I stinky,” she said, “Bath time?”

  London scrunched his nose at her, and said, “Oh, yeah, you need a bath big time.” He scooped her up off the floor and carried her to the bathroom across the hall. When he had her in the tub, London propped himself up on the sink’s countertop. He thought suddenly of when Marbell had told him about his wife, of her greed and threat.

  Marbell lived in a world where he didn’t want his sexuality to be known, and by his father of all people. London wondered what kind of man the founder of Monroe Flair was. Surely he had to be a daunting man enable to instill such fear into his own flesh and blood. Being twenty-five years old and still
so afraid, there had to be something extremely terrifying about him. A part of London wanted to meet this man to witness whatever it was for himself. He doubted, though, that there could possibly be a man out there more fear-provoking and vindictive than his own father.

  There was no way in hell.

  Tending to Joyce, London made sure all of her was washed before taking her out and getting her dressed. When her mermaid underwear’s were on, Joyce broke free from her brother and dashed out the bathroom. London was about to chase after her but was blocked off when Marbell appeared in the doorframe. “Fucking hell,” London placed a hand over his beating heart, “You scared the shit out of me.”

  “Sorry,” Marbell laughed, stepping aside the let London out. “I was coming to tell you I’m leaving to the office. When I get back, we’ll be going back to Texas.”

  “Aw, man,” London moped, “and I was just getting used to the stench of New York.”

  “Funny,” the teacher glared, “I’ll call you when I’m on my way.”

  Before Marbell could turn his back, London grabbed the teacher by his arm to make him stay. He pulled Marbell close suddenly and brought their lips together, their tongues melting against one another as London’s hands held the man against him. The heat that always seemed to find its way into him raced through each of his veins, filling him with a lust for the taste Marbell left in his mouth.

  Finally pulling away, leaving Marbell breathless and dazed, London said, “So you’ll be gone all day?”

  Marbell gathered himself, “Majority, yes. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” London said, leaning against the doorframe, “Hurry back, though. You know I get this weird thing every now and again where I kind of miss you a lot.”

  “Will do, I love you.”

  When Marbell grabbed his briefcase and was about to step foot out the door, London hurried to say, “I love you, too!”

  The teacher gave him a smile, and it grew even wider when Joyce ran to the door in her undies and waved merrily at him. “Bye, bye,” she giggled with wet red ponytails, “Love you, love you!”

  Henry quirked a brow at his near naked sister, and then nodded to Marbell, “See you later, Mister Matthews.”

  With a goodbye from each of the people occupying his apartment, Marbell felt a hint of excitement in him. It was like a loving send off from a family he was actually a part of, a family he one day hoped to be part of. Something such as that couldn’t have felt better.

  _

  “Vice-Chairman Matthews.”

  “Boss.”

  “Vice.”

  “Sir.”

  “Supervisor.”

  These were all the names Marbell answered to whenever he was in contact with Monroe Flair headquarters. Not once did he ever hear his actual name when surrounded by the people that worked for him. And it was constant. Sat up on the twentieth floor of the HQ building, his office was usually the quietest room in the entire place. It overlooked the Manhattan Bridge and murky waters beneath, and was just high enough off the ground to partly escape the noisy honks and liveliness of the city. A Sunday afternoon anywhere else was probably never as active as one in the center of New York City.

  Going over the papers he planned to send out to Japan in the coming week, he read through every detail of the contracts that needed to be signed, making sure the terms and conditions were fair enough to bind their management company to an up and coming Japanese modeling agency for five years. If they wanted to get up and start running by the end of July, the originator’s signature had to meet the dotted line by Wednesday.

  After altering a few of the terms on his laptop, Marbell sent the documents over to his father to have the final look at them. The founder was in England at the moment, so Marbell was just glad he didn’t have to sit around his father for hours going over it.

  With that out of the way, Marbell loaded the Monroe Flair monthly magazine onto his screen and scanned through it. Every time he caught sight of something he felt could be changed, he highlighted the section and sent it over to his editorial assistant on the floor below him. He spent hours sat up in his office viewing several internship requests, promotion suggestions, advertisement propositions, branding strategies for clients signed to them, and even judging male and female models that would become the faces of fashion magazines. Smiling to himself, he thought of how perfect London would do as a model.

  After replying to a potential intern application, Marbell paused when his executive assistance called him on the phone on his desk. “I’m a little consumed, right now, Tonya,” he said first, “Whatever it is, can it wait?”

  “Um, not really, Sir,” she said, her voice sounding a little shaky. “Your wife just arrived and she doesn’t seem very happy. She’s on her way up.”

  Marbell wasn’t sure if it’d been his imagination or if his heart had literally stopped beating for a couple seconds. His palms suddenly felt clammy and he was short of breath. She was supposed to be in Paris! What the hell was she doing here?

  Jumping out of his desk chair, Marbell said, “You sent her up without my permission?”

  “I’m sorry, Sir,” Tonya squeaked on the other line, “She barged right passed me.”

  The moment Marbell hung up with Tonya, the door to his office swung open. A woman dressed in a crimson red pencil skirt, and a long sleeve, black and white polka dot shirt stood there. Vivian had long, champagne blonde hair and vibrant green eyes. Her body was slim and fit as her features were strong with a sharp jawline and intense, protruding eyes. From the almost natural scowl that showed in her brow, to the flat line of her black cherry lipstick, she looked like she wasn’t in the mood for anything at all.

  Without giving Marbell a chance to greet her, Vivian showed him the screen of her smart phone and stormed in. She shouted, “Who the hell is this!?”

  Heart trembling inside of him, Marbell didn’t look at the phone yet, and instead went for his office door that she’d failed to close. He didn’t need every one of his colleagues to know of his personal life. Once the door was shut, Marbell’s eyes glimpsed the screen of the phone...only to find the face of another brunette woman looking back at him. He instantly recognized her as being a French woman he’d hired to direct the Spring fashion show taking place over the weekend in Paris, the same one Vivian was supposed to be attending right now.

  “That’s Abella Blanchett,” Marbell answered.

  “Well,” Vivian slammed her phone down on the surface of the desk, “Fuck Abella Blanchett! She’s a goddamn bitch!”

  Marbell took a step back from Vivian, knowing how she could get when she was angry. Violent. “What the hell happened over there?”

  “This dumb bitch you hired wouldn’t let me into the fucking show.” Storming all over the office, Vivian’s high heels stomped into the carpet. “She talked all this shit about having a guest list, and arranged seating, and whatever, so she couldn’t let me in without being on the stupid list. I even told her I was your wife and could have her fired for the way she was treating me, but she called security on me. Can you believe that!?” Vivian then pierced Marbell with fuming eyes, “Why wasn’t I on the list?”

  Marbell hated when Vivian screamed at him. It was never yelling. No, this woman didn’t just yell in a raised voice one octave above her regular tone, she screamed whenever frustration took hold. Which was often. “I didn’t think you’d need to be on a list,” he said, trying to save himself.

  “You were in charge of the people who were supposed to attend the damn show, Marbell. I want you to fire her, now. If she thinks she can treat your wife that way, imagine how she’d treat you.”

  Marbell walked across the room, distancing himself from her a little more. “I’m not going to fire her over a misunderstanding.”

  “A misunderstanding? Is that what you call someone disrespecting your wife?”

  Marbell couldn’t contain his irritation, “I’m not firing her, Vivian, that’s enough. Get over it.” he asserted.


  Vivian glared darkly at Marbell, “Coward,” she snarled. She held her hand out, then, “Give me the key to your apartment I’m going to stay there until you’re done here. I don’t want to fly back to Texas alone.”

  When Marbell didn’t hand over the key right away, Vivian snapped her fingers, “Come on, now, I don’t want to stand here all damn day. I was just on a twelve-hour flight and I want to lay down for a while.”

  This was not good...

  Marbell knew he couldn’t just say no to her, nor could he keep her waiting anymore or else she’d likely destroy his office for stalling. So, Marbell took the spare key he had in his pocket, and handed it over to her, since he’d given the original to London their first day here.

  Vivian snatched the silver key and turned her back on him. “Why are you acting so weird?” she said, “I know you would rather be married to just about anyone other than me, but you could at least act like you don’t want to dump me over a bridge.” She smirked wickedly back at him, “What would your father think?”

  When Vivian was gone, Marbell fumbled for his cellphone and dialed London.

  “Hello, love of my life,” London answered the call, “Are you coming back early again?”

  “No, actually,” Marbell tried to keep his voice collected. If he came off as panicked, there was no doubt London would suspect something was wrong. “I won’t be able to head back to Texas with you. I’m really swamped with a ton of things, and I’ve got to stay real late at the office tonight. I don’t want to keep you and Henry here since you’ve got work tomorrow, and he needs to be at school in the morning.”