I had originally established myself through word of mouth, having bought a second phone that people could call specifically for my services, but over time, I had found it easier to set up a website. Clients would fill out the application, explaining any health issues, their diet, a bit about their sexual history, etc.
I’d have more detailed interviews with them when we met up, but I liked to have as much information as possible beforehand. Always, when I wasn’t able to meet with someone, I would instead offer them tips and advice based on their application. I liked to think that it helped.
I was trying to decide between two applications when my phone buzzed. Getting a text on my work phone so early in the morning—especially with no prospective clients lined up—was unusual, so I gave it a look.
To my pleasure, it was from Mary, a nutritionist I’d met at a party about six months before. She had sent a few clients my way in the months since, even though she’d never visited me herself. Mary had been engaged when I’d met her, and if I was remembering correctly, had been about seven months off getting married, meaning her wedding would be coming up in about a month. She was a lovely woman, and very comfortable talking about things like sex, which I appreciated.
The text read:
Hey Ash! Sorry to bother you so early, but I was hoping you could do a sort of last-minute favor for me?
My real name is Asher O’Reilly, although not many people knew my last name. I tended to prefer anonymity, but since Mary had met me in a business-related party, she’d been introduced to me with my real name. I didn’t mind, since she had proven herself to be discreet.
I replied:
Hey, how’s it going? Are those wedding bells I hear in the distance? Let me know what the favor is and I’ll see what I can do.
Mary’s reply was almost immediate.
So glad you’re up! And thanks, haha—one month to go, don’t remind me. My best friend, Jessica, is in need of your help. She refuses to see you though, so it’ll have to be discreet.
I didn’t mind that. It was against my usual M.O., but I could make it work. I’ve been told that I’m charming, and I liked to think that my clients appreciated my personality as well as my skills in the bedroom. If Jessica was wary about going to see someone for something like this, then I could play the casual, coincidental hookup who finally taught her how to enjoy sex the way that it was meant to be enjoyed.
I got another text from Mary.
Here’s a picture of her!
I almost dropped my phone.
Jessica was stunning. I didn’t think that often, having been with so many women. In a way, it had given me an appreciation for all of the ways that the female form could be expressed, but it also meant that it took a lot for me to be impressed.
Right then, I was very much impressed. This Jessica had dark brown hair that fell around a sharply defined face with bright, clear blue eyes.
The picture must have been taken while Jessica and Mary were at the gym together, since Jessica was on a yoga mat, grinning, her legs spread wide in a split. Clearly, flexibility wasn’t the issue here. She was wearing tight leggings and a sports bra, both of which clung to her and allowed me to see how in shape she was, with firm muscles, perky breasts, and tan skin.
She was the most beautiful woman I’d seen in a long time, and I loved the carefree smile on her face. It looked like she was having fun, and I loved women who knew how to have fun. Judging by the photo, I guessed that she was in her late twenties or early thirties, but Jessica clearly kept up with her body. I mean, being able to do the splits? That was pretty amazing.
I was already planning on helping Jessica out, since I liked Mary and it saved me the trouble of having to choose my next client. Instead of sifting through all of the options, I’d had my choice given to me. But now that I’d seen Jessica, I would have cleared my schedule even if I’d had other people lined up. It wasn’t often that I got the chance to work with someone as stunning as her.
I had a feeling that most people who interacted with her felt the same. It was hard for me to believe that she hadn’t ever had an orgasm. How could any man not see that beautiful creature and want to make her time with them as pleasurable as humanly possible? But, you never knew. I didn’t want to judge.
When can I meet her? I replied.
The response took a while to come. In the meantime, I wrote some responses to applications that I wouldn’t be accepting, providing them with some advice. One woman, for example, sounded like she just needed more time to warm up.
Explain to your partner that he’s skimping on the foreplay. Foreplay is just as important as the main event, not to mention that it’s good bonding time for a couple. It can also help the guy last longer, if that’s an issue. Take your time warming up and you’ll see how ready your body is by the time he’s inside you.
I responded to a few more applications this way, by which point Mary had replied. I read the text, glad to see that I wouldn’t have to wait long to meet Jessica.
How about this Tuesday?
That was in two days, but not a problem. Mary had also included the details of the bar at which I could ‘run into’ Jessica.
Remember, don’t let her know who you really are! She’ll kill me!
I replied:
Piece of cake. By the way, what are you having at the wedding? Chocolate?
Mary responded with a rolling eyes emoji.
Just let me know where to send the money, smartass. I’m buying this for my BFF.
I sent Mary the information on how to pay through my website, a method that I’d found to be beneficial for both parties involved. I didn’t want my clients to know my real name for a check just in case of any legal trouble, especially since many of my clients were married or in relationships.
Those were my favorite clients, honestly, because there was no danger of them falling in love with me. They didn’t want an affair; they were coming to me to figure out how to do things so they could then approach their husbands and boyfriends about it. But the boyfriends and husbands might not see it that way, and I couldn’t exactly blame them. I had a bit of a possessive streak myself, when it came down to it.
Anyway, my clients didn’t usually carry cash in such large amounts and couldn’t exactly write ‘Dr. O’ on a check. So, they paid through my website, with the service billed as a ‘health consultation’ on their bank records.
Simple, easy, and good for everyone. Just how I liked my business and my life.
Tucking my phone into my pocket, I decided to go out on a jog. The day was already looking brighter, in all senses. In two days, I was going to meet the beautiful Jessica, and show her how a proper night out should go.
It was going to be a great week.
Chapter 3
Jessica
It had taken me two whole days to recover from the bachelorette weekend. By Tuesday morning, I still felt a little like I’d been run over by a train.
The other girls weren’t doing much better, it seemed. Elian claimed she was still kind of drunk, Lanie had taken the day off from work again, and Jane was moping. Amanita, the only one who’d drank a sensible amount and had gotten a decent number of hours of sleep, was also the only one who had recovered.
Tamara, my boss, didn’t really help my cause.
As vice president of BeYoutyful Cosmetics, I was able to delegate quite a lot, but I still had my fair share of work. Bringing a bit of work home was how I stayed on top of things in the office, and I liked to think that I struck a nice balance between that work and keeping some weekend time free for hanging out with friends and going golfing. Lanie was the only one who shared my love of golf, but I didn’t mind; I was just as happy hitting the green on my own if she wasn’t available.
But because of the bachelorette weekend, and all the planning that had gone into it—not to mention the drive back home to Pittsburgh when it was through—I hadn’t been able to get any of that little work done.
The lack of cell service at
the cabin had also meant that Tamara couldn’t text me. She liked being able to reach me with little questions, asking me to remind her about things for the next day—that kind of thing. Since that couldn’t happen, when I got into the office on Monday, she was freaking out.
Tamara was an amazing boss and CEO, truly, though at times she could be a bit overdramatic. She was also one of the smartest and most imaginative people I’d ever met, and that was why she was top dog and I was her second-in-command. I didn’t consider myself as boring, by any means, but I definitely didn’t have her level of creativity. Thankfully, my pragmatic nature lent itself well to my role.
So, with the work piled up and my boss both literally and figuratively breathing down my neck, the last couple days hadn’t helped to dispel my run-over-by-a-train feeling. Which meant that when Mary texted me about getting together for drinks that night in our favorite bar, I was inclined to say no.
Piper’s Pub, just south of highway 837 and the Ohio River, had been our hangout spot for years. I wasn’t sure when it had opened, or why we’d decided to make our hangout spot a British-style pub, but it was just at the halfway point between where we lived and worked, and it was easy for us to get to, so I suppose that was why. That, and the food was amazing.
By then, most of the staff knew us and our favorite orders on sight, and I appreciated that homey, familiar feeling. My parents and I had a great relationship, but they had both worked a lot while I was growing up, and I didn’t have any siblings. Other than Mary and Amanita, I hadn’t had many friends in high school, so my social circle had been pretty limited. It was just nice to go to a place where everyone knew who I was.
However, as much as I loved Piper’s, and as much as I loved unwinding after a long day with Mary and sometimes one of the other girls, I just didn’t think I had it in me that day. I was still so exhausted, and I still had a lot of work to get done.
“I really don’t know,” I told Mary over the phone.
Tamara didn’t like it when our employees were on their cellphones, so even though she trusted me, I had friends call my desk phone so it looked like I was doing work rather than texting. Gotta set a good example and all that.
“I’ve got so much work, and I’m still kind of tired from the weekend.”
“You’re getting old,” Mary laughed.
“C’mon, I just have a couple things I wanted to talk to you about with the wedding. Nothing major!” she added, probably sensing my oncoming panic. “I just had some questions about seating.”
Mary’s idea of ‘just a few questions’ was most people’s idea of a two-hour long debate, but I’d known what I was getting into when I’d signed up for this whole maid of honor deal, and I was going to stick to it. Mary was my best friend, and I had to support her—even if that meant suffering the consequences in the office tomorrow morning.
“Fine,” I agreed. “When shall I meet you?”
“Is seven okay?”
I glanced at the clock. If I worked hard, I could possibly get all of my work done by 6:30, then jet over to Piper’s. It would be cutting it close with Mary, but that extra time at work could mean that I’d be all caught up for Wednesday.
“Sure thing, hon.”
“Great! See you then! Love you!”
“Love you too,” I told her.
I hung up, then looked at the spreadsheets and client lists piled up around my desk. Right. Time to get to work.
Chapter 4
Jessica
It was 7:15, and I was going to kill Mary.
The thing was, Mary was a punctual person. She wasn’t the kind of friend who would just leave you hanging or show up late for no reason. So while I was annoyed, I was also kind of worried. It didn’t help that she wasn’t answering my texts, either.
I’d picked a spot at the bar to wait for her, figuring we could snag a table or booth once she arrived, but now I just looked like the idiot who was getting stood up. The bartender was new, too, so I didn’t even have the comfort of Sally or Blaze to chat with while I was waiting for Mary.
Sally was my favorite bartender, personally. Blaze tended to get a little flirty, and I knew it was just a part of his job, but men flirting tended to make me uncomfortable, even when I knew they didn’t actually mean anything by it. It was just that flirting could possibly lead to sex which would then lead to disappointment for everyone involved, and I didn’t exactly need the reminder that I wasn’t up to snuff in the bedroom.
Where was Mary?
I glanced around the pub again. There were some regulars in the corner that I recognized, people that I knew by face if not by name. A trio of younger women was sitting at one of the tables, giggling at something on one of their phones. At the far end of the bar was a gorgeous man—tall, blond hair, green eyes and a chiseled face—but I was avoiding looking at him because re: flirting.
No sign of Mary.
I pulled out my phone and resolved to call her instead of just texting. The phone rang a few times, and I was just starting to resign myself to hanging up and getting out of there, when she answered.
“Jess!”
Mary sounded oddly out of breath, and not in the way she did just after sex where her voice got all high-pitched and bubbly. And yes, I had unfortunately heard Mary in her post-coital daze a few times over the years. It stung to know that I’d probably never sounded anything as blissed-out as that.
But right now, Mary sounded more out of breath like she’d been running, or even crying.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“Oh, yeah, everything’s fine, just—I’m sorry. I know I’m late, and I’m not actually going to be able to make it.”
“What’s wrong?” I could tell by her tone that something was off.
Mary sighed.
“I can’t talk about it right now. Josh and I are just having some…disagreements, that’s all.”
“Is this about his mother?”
Josh was one of the sweetest guys I had ever met, which puzzled me because his mother was literally part demon. And I don’t mean that lightly. She had never liked Mary, for some reason, and had alternated between being passive-aggressive towards her and outright bitchy. She’d been furious when Josh had asked Mary to marry him, and she’d been making the wedding as difficult as possible ever since.
Mary’s sniffle on the other end of the phone told me all that I needed to know. Thank God, Josh at least mostly understood how his mother was. She loved him and had raised him, so I think he felt his loyalties divided, but he always stuck up for Mary when his mom went too far.
“Go,” I told her. “Take care of this. Remember that your love is pure and strong and will overcome anything, including her.”
“Thanks.” Mary definitely sounded near tears now.
“I’ll get back to you about this seating thing, okay? Don’t stress.”
“Okay. I’m really sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry!”
I suddenly, inexplicably, got the feeling that someone was standing right behind me.
“I’ll see you another time, okay? You take care of this.”
“Thanks Jess, you’re the best. I love you.”
“I love you too. Now off you go.”
I hung up the phone and turned around only to find that my instinct was correct—there was someone standing behind me.
It was the handsome man from the end of the bar.
Up close, I could see his five-o’clock shadow and the flecks of gold in his green eyes.
My jaw might have gone slack, and I just hoped that I didn’t look like the total besotted idiot that I felt like. This guy looked like he should be on the cover of a magazine.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, holding out his hand. “I’m Asher.”
“Jessica,” I said automatically, holding my hand out and letting him shake it.
He had large, capable hands, and I don’t think I was imagining that he held on to mine for a little longer than he had to.
�
�I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation,” Asher went on, finally letting go of my hand. “It seems like you’re in the same predicament that I am.”
“What’s that?” I asked, curious. “Being a maid of honor?”
Asher laughed heartily, like he wasn’t expecting me to joke with him.
“Being stood up.”
“I mean, it’s not so bad. It was just my friend,” I explained. “We were supposed to talk about some wedding stuff, but now her mother-in-law is causing problems again. Well, mother-in-law-to-be.”
“Ah, I think I misunderstood,” Asher admitted. “I’ve been stood up by my date, and I thought…”
“Okay, that sucks a lot more than mine,” I said. “Sit down. If you want, we can talk about it.”
“That’s really sweet of you,” Asher said, smiling.
He had a really nice smile, genuine but also a little roguish. He took the seat next to me.
“We were set up by a friend, but we’d texted and sent pictures beforehand so I thought that…but, anyway. Gotta keep trying, I suppose.”
“Here, here,” I toasted, holding up my drink and clinking it with his.
“I’m glad to hear that you weren’t stood up by a date,” Asher said. “Clearly, the guy wouldn’t have seen a picture of you.”
I felt myself blushing, heat rising to my face.
“Well, the girl you were going to meet is clearly crazy, because she had a picture of you and she still didn’t show.”
The smile Asher gave me was definitely more roguish this time.
“So, Jessica, how did you get roped into being maid of honor?”
I explained about how long I’d known Mary and how I was the most organized out of all of our friends. That led to me talking about my career, which segued into talking about my boss. Asher responded with talk about his boss from when he was doing his inpatient work as a medical student, and soon, we were swapping stories about college.
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