by Tiana Cole
Chapter Twelve
The look Ms. Tillie gave her was nothing short of incredulous.
“Oh my God!”
“You like?” Cassidy teased, pirouetting like a runway model.
“Uh-huh. You look sensational!”
“Thanks for the tip. I found this dress at the boutique, and Sheena volunteered to do my make-up. Good thing, too, as I probably would have just washed my face and called it good to go," Cassidy laughed.
“Make-up should be your friend. Look at you. You came in this morning looking like a girl. Now you look every bit a woman.”
“Well… too bad all these things will just go to waste. I’ll probably sit out the whole night. You know, being new and all.”
Ms. Tillie had a twinkle in her eye when she replied, “That’s where you’re wrong. I have someone for you tonight.”
“You do?” Cassidy answered, alarm in her voice.
Even if she had agreed and signed the contract, she wasn’t really sure if she’d go through with this. She had managed to compose herself with the thought that tonight she’d make friends with some of the girls and learn from them. Ms. Tillie’s announcement threw her off guard.
“Yup, the guy is a regular and all the girls say he is great. Pays well, too. The girl I sent over this morning didn’t work out, but he took her to lunch and paid her just the same.”
“What went wrong with the girl this morning?” Cassidy was curious to know. That would be just her luck rejected on her first date.
“Probably not his type… I don’t know. You’ll have to find out for yourself. And, oh… by the way, he sent cab fare and the address where you’ll meet him. Here!”
Cassidy accepted the small piece of paper with trembling fingers.
“Cassidy, I know you’re nervous but I think this guy is perfect for you. That’s why I decided to send you to him.”
“Perfect? Why is that? I mean, you don’t really know me. We just met earlier today.”
Ms. Tillie smiled. “Cassidy, I’ve seen a lot of girls in this business. You’re young, beautiful, and starving for work. All the girls tell me he is not only a gentleman but truly interested in who they are as a person. Two of them even used the word respectful. I don’t know of a better recommendation for a first date. Plus, he likes women of color. I think he prefers dark glamour. You are just the ticket.”
Cassidy swallowed the lump in her throat, nodded her head, and thanked Ms. Tillie who handed her cab money. She headed outside and hailed a passing taxi.
“The Carlton House, please.”
Cassidy had never been to The Carlton, but knew it was one of the most coveted residential addresses in NYC. The man must be rich. She wondered why he would need an escort for the night. And what happened with the girl Ms. Tillie sent earlier? She had simply said, “it probably didn’t work out.” Cassidy wondered what that meant. What did the guy want that the escort couldn’t give him? The thought was slightly unsettling.
Cassidy was mesmerized by the collection of haute couture ateliers and boutiques as they passed Madison Avenue. This area was among the world’s most fashionable shopping destinations for the rich and famous, and just a stone’s throw away from Central Park.
She recognized the brick and limestone exterior of The Carlton House as the cab came to a stop. She paid and stepped out onto the pavement, willing her heart to stop beating wildly inside her chest.
A white-gloved concierge opened the door that led to the lobby, its marbled mosaic floors reflecting the modern architectural lights hanging from a domed ceiling. Muted sofas in mink and pearl colors were clustered strategically around a gas-fed fireplace. Cassidy tried to ignore the unease she felt in such luxurious surroundings as she approached a receptionist behind an alabaster desk.
“The penthouse, please…” Cassidy muttered, looking at the piece of paper with the address written on it. Ms. Tillie must have overlooked the name of the client.
“Take the private elevator on the left. That will lead you directly to the seventeenth floor," the girl answered coolly.
Cassidy couldn’t help thinking that the receptionist knew what she was here for, but she brushed the disquieting thought aside as she entered the lift. She instead focused her thoughts on her baby back home and the reason why she was doing this.
“This is all for you, Dee,” she whispered to herself, and somehow the notion made her feel braver about tonight.
The elevator hardly made any noise as it came to a stop on the seventeenth floor. The carpeting was lush on the hallway floor that lead to a lone door with the number seventeen written in italics. It was the only unit in the entire seventeenth floor.
She drew a deep breath and pulled back her shoulders as she knocked to announce her presence.
“Come in, please… the door’s open,” a male voice hollered from inside.
Cassidy pushed the door open and entered the foyer. She gasped as she noted the spacious living room with its wide glass windows, bringing into view the grandeur of nighttime New York. Her heels clicked softly on ebonized white oak flooring as she made her way to the salon that was furnished in blue, black, and grey. A cloisonné dish with scalloped rims and candlestick holders of the same design decorated the mantel of the fireplace. Potted indoor plants in brass bowls were scattered everywhere, giving the whole area a relaxed ambience.
The living room was bordered on both sides with hallways leading to different parts of the penthouse. An open stairway lead to the upper floor, which Cassidy surmised must be the eighteenth floor of the Carlton House. She wondered where the owner was. She heard the distinct sound of water flowing from the hallway to her right.
A voice coming from that direction called out, “Make yourself comfortable… there’s food in the fridge if you’re hungry. Taking a quick shower… be with you soon.”
He seems friendly enough… sounds young, though. I would have thought it’d be someone older. Look at this penthouse. It definitely reeks of money, Cassidy mused as she sauntered towards the glass windows.
The view from up here was truly beyond words. The lights of New York brightened the night sky. She recognized landmarks. It was like owning the city. No wonder he had this place. Money could bring that easy feeling of ownership. She knew that view was probably more expensive than the penthouse itself. She wondered about the man who lived here. Did he even appreciate what he had just outside his window? Probably not, she opined with a grimace. He probably takes all these for granted, she thought, glancing at the lavish furniture littered all over.
Without realizing that she was working up a snit, she added, …Like hiring an escort to keep him company. What’s wrong with going out and meeting someone? Normal people do that, don’t they? Unless he can’t be bothered because paying for a woman’s company is easier to do.
And then a nasty thought assailed her. Maybe he’s disfigured or something? But he has so much money he’d have no problem getting cosmetic surgery, for Christ’s sake. What’s wrong with the guy?
A range of emotions ran through her mind while she waited. Each image of her client was getting more atrocious than the last, until she decided he was a repugnant person who preyed on helpless woman who needed money because he could afford to do it. She was getting angrier by the minute.
A part of her brain knew that her disgust was a smokescreen of the fear she still felt inside. She really didn’t want to be here. If she were honest, she was no better than the hookers who plied the street corners in the dark. She only agreed to this because she needed the money for her daughter.
The thought of Dee helped her resolve. Just moments ago she had felt trapped, insignificant, and pathetic. However, she did say yes to Ms. Tillie. No one forced her. And she did buy the darn dress she had on, and Sheena worked hard to make her look fabulous tonight.
And, just as Ms. Tillie had said, this job would make her more money than any other work a person with her limited skills could bring in. She could send money home to mom and dad... and
Dee. She would have enough to travel to Alabama for frequent visits. All she had to do was be pleasant and look good. She already knew she looked great, she just had to work on the pleasant part. How hard could it be?
Alright, Cassidy Johnson. Put on a good show for Ms. Tillie and Sheena... and Dee. Make this monster — God, I hope he drowns in the shower — laugh. Entertain him with your wit, then get the hell out of here.
With her mind made up, Cassidy felt better. Nerves made her parched and she desperately needed a drink of water. She wondered which of the two hallways led to the kitchen. God forbid she entered his bedroom by mistake, but she was thirsty and he did say to make herself comfortable, didn’t he?
She turned around, undecided. Just then, the man rounded the corner from where she heard the shower earlier. She stopped in her tracks as she watched him approach, rubbing and drying his hair with a white towel that partially covered his face. He pulled the towel away and slung it carelessly around his shoulder as he looked up at her.
“I’m sorry to keep you waiting… just arrived when you came in. What the fu — Cassidy?"
For Cassidy, the whole world came to an abrupt standstill. She felt as though her heart stopped beating. Her breath came in a gasp.
The man standing before her, tousled hair slightly damp, shirtless, and wearing faded jeans that hung sexily from his hips, was the last face on earth she expected to see again today.
“Tristan?”
They stood there staring at each other, hardly believing what the other was seeing.
Chapter Thirteen
The look of wonder on Tristan’s face was a sight to behold as he crossed the remaining distance between them.
Cassidy stepped back instinctively, like in a dream that was slowly turning into a nightmare. Never, in all her imaginings had envisioned that Tristan would be her first date. She was appalled, frightened, angry, and hurt all at once. She’d made the biggest mistake of her life. Yes, there could only be one thing worse than getting pregnant by a man who cheated and lied, and here it was. Tristan in the flesh. His presence mocked all of her resolve. The first date had turned into an emotional horror.
A series of questions gushed from Tristan.
“What are you doing here? Where have you been? You disappeared so suddenly… I went crazy thinking something bad happened to you. I went to the coffee shop where you used to work… the manager said you suddenly resigned. What happened to you? Why did you just leave without saying goodbye?”
Cassidy heard the questions, but her mind was in such a chaotic whirl that she didn’t know what to say. She was dumbstruck to see him again. All the pent-up emotions she had managed to keep at bay came rushing back like an unstoppable tsunami. The past year unraveled before her eyes: her joy thinking how lucky she was to have found someone like him, her shock seeing the videos with him going out with all those women, the secret life he lived, getting her pregnant and making her fearful about her own future. All these thoughts slammed into her simultaneously.
At the same time, she couldn’t ignore the lust that bloomed in her crotch at the sight of his naked chest. Not just his chest, his entire body. The jeans barely concealed the strength of his thighs; those thighs that had clasped her body in passion. In truth, the primal ache overpowered all other emotions that were running through her. Her mind had split into two opposing sides: one side telling her to rant and rave at this loathsome creature, while the other side was telling her she wanted him to fuck her… hard.
And the way he said her name… Cass. Like it was an endearment and not coming from the lips of a sex addict. How could he stand there and look so innocent? Did he even know what she went through during those nine months that she was carrying his baby? Did he know what it felt like to push a head the size of a melon out of a vagina?
Did he? Did he fucking know?
Cassidy’s fury gave her composure she typically didn’t possess.
“Can I have a glass of water, please?” she asked coolly.
“Some water? Sure. Of course… anything. Would you prefer wine? I have some in the cooler.”
Of course he did. He probably got women drunk before he fucked them.
“No. Water’s fine,” Cassidy replied flatly.
She didn’t want any alcohol affecting her brain. An idea was slowly forming inside her mind; a plan that would settle the score between them.
He came back carrying a tall glass of iced water. Meanwhile, Cassidy settled herself into one of the sofas while he was gone. She crossed her legs, allowing the hem of the dress to open, exposing a leg and her thighs.
“Thank you,” she smiled seductively at him, lowering her eyes as he took the seat beside her.
“You look different,” Tristan began. There was a note of uncertainty in his voice.
Cassidy leaned over to set the glass on the table, making sure he had a good view of the mounds of her breasts.
“Different? How? Do you find me prettier now, or am I still the plain Cassidy you once knew? Do you prefer the sophisticated one, with make-up and silk and stilettos?”
Her voice had taken on a huskier tone. Her hand crept over his thigh and casually rested on top of his leg. His lips parted slightly as his body tensed, sending warm breaths wafting to her cheeks. Powerless to resist her invitation, he leaned in closer, inhaling her perfume.
She turned to face to him, offering her lips for a kiss. Instead, Tristan pulled away from her, a move that took her by surprise. His face was inscrutable as he folded his arms across his chest.
“You haven’t answered my question, Cassidy. What the fuck are you doing here in my apartment?"
Cassidy was momentarily taken aback. She had no desire to talk about things. All she wanted was for him to fuck her, then she would be gone… for good. That was the plan, but his face was like a mask. There was no sign of the erection he showed when she first touched him.
“I… err… I’m here because… I’m…” she stammered. She was losing her composure and felt defensive.
The notion that he could still make her feel uncomfortable despite everything he’d done was upsetting to her. She was the victim of this monster, wasn’t she? She drew back her flagging optimism. She couldn’t lose what she had started tonight.
“I’m here because you called for an escort and the agency sent me.” Her voice was cold, detached, like she was some kind of pro who did this every day.
“Agency? You work as an escort there?” He sounded shocked.
“Yes,” she answered, trying to understand his surprise. “Been doin’ it for a while now,” she lied.
She forced herself to look at him as he recoiled at her words.
What the fuck was wrong with him? Cassidy thought. She understood his surprise at seeing her again, but to act like he didn’t want to come close… that riled her somehow. What was wrong with her, anyway? Wasn’t she just as good as the other girls he’d gone to bed with?
She had to make a move and do it fast. She tugged at the drawstring on her dress allowing her breasts to fall softly, revealing that she had nothing underneath except a pair of panties.
“What’s wrong, Tristan?” she cooed, flitting nearer. “Isn’t this what you want? You paid for a girl to be with you tonight. Well… here I am.”
Tristan looked at her like she was a creature from another planet. His mouth was wide open like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
“Look, Tristan, you’re wasting your time… and mine. I’m a working girl and need to get paid,” she sneered.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this, Cassidy.” Tristan finally found his voice.
“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me,” she replied coldly. “So… are we doing it or not?” she added, tying the drawstring back up, preparing to leave in case he said no. “You can always ask for another girl,” she lambasted him further, “just like the girl that didn’t work out for you this morning.”
“You mean Macy?”
“Macy, Kim,
Amber… what the fuck. We’re all the same, aren’t we?”
“Alright, Cassidy. If this is what you really want. Please… this way,” Tristan answered, standing up from the sofa and leading the way for her to follow.
That was easy, she thought. A sex addict will never say no if you dangle your tits in his face. She grimaced at the idea.
Cassidy was glad her plan was working again. She was about to get laid, but somehow the idea wasn’t as pleasant as it first seemed. Getting laid was not the same as those passionate hours she’d spent with Tristan before she discovered his… addiction.
Tristan opened a door and allowed her to pass through. Cassidy fully expected to see a bedroom, and more importantly, a bed. The room, however, was far from what she expected. It was mostly bare with white walls, except for a square mattress that was covered with a red sheet. Adjustable light stands surrounded the bed. Silver and white umbrellas were hanging above the stands, as well as a square umbrella that looked like a smaller version of a tent. Small round honeycomb objects were strewn everywhere.
Cassidy gasped in surprise. She wasn’t familiar with most of the objects inside the room, but even to her untrained eye this looked like a photo studio.
“Take your clothes off… there’s a robe hanging by the door… put it on. I’ll come back when you’re ready.” Tristan’s voice was monotone, his face a blank wall as he closed the door behind him.
“What the fuck?” Cassidy muttered.
She was confused, but if he wanted to fuck her here, she didn’t have a say over that. She did hear him tell her to remove all of her clothes, though, and she was having difficulty accepting that. It sounded so… clinical. She at least expected some kind of foreplay like Tristan taking off her clothes for her. And that mattress in the middle of the room? A doctor’s office had a more inviting examination bed than that one.
Cassidy shrugged her shoulders. If this is how he wanted it, then she just had to play along. More and more, she realized how sick Tristan really was. She slithered out of her dress hesitantly, wondering if she should remove her panties, too. She decided against it. Give him something to work for, she thought… even if it was as trivial as removing her panties to get to her.