by Pamela Prim
“But I’ve never…”
“Leave it to me, Dory.” Jessica was all sweet and syrupy again. “You are long overdue for a life worth living. And you can make an easy ten grand a night doing this.”
“T-t-ten thous-s-sand?” Doris was stunned. No wonder Jessica always had such expensive things.
“Yes, Dory. That’s the standard fee for each gig.”
* * * * *
Try as hard as she might, Doris couldn’t recognize the woman looking back at her in the mirror. She hadn’t in her wildest dreams ever envisioned that she could look the way she did. Her reddish russet hair was beautifully set in tumbling waves and sparkled in the bright light. Her face was a glow with vivacity and her green eyes had never looked more mystifying and mesmerizing. Her finger and toe nails were elegantly manicured and polished. And the dress she was wearing was out of this world. She had only seen pictures of such fabulous dresses before, designed by Lauren St. Venire. The price of the dress could get her a year’s subscription of books.
The glittering Burgundy Red of the evening gown clung to her body and delineated every curve. Precious stones sewn onto the fabric gave it a heavenly appeal, and it was a perfect fit too, as if they had custom made it for her. She blushed at the low cut neckline and was in awe at the soft globes of her enticing cleavage against the dark cloth. Doris couldn’t believe that she could ever look this sexy. The exotic dress was like a second skin and her body had never felt this young and beautiful ever in her life. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, the reflection in the mirror did not change. It was still herself she as looking at.
“You look wonderful, Dory.” Jessica patted her lower back and ushered her toward the Limo waiting for them. “Now go and have a perfect evening. Your client’s name is John Rood.”
John Rood! All color left her face. It couldn’t be the John Rood. The writer whose work she was such a fan of. She felt her knees tremble and stood rooted to the spot.
“Uh… are you sure?” She managed to stutter at her neighbor.
“Yes, I did tell you our clients are only multi-millionaires and over.” Jessica gave her an annoyed look. “Now go and have a good time… and remember; no intimacy at all.”
“Uh, yes… I will…” She mumbled, wishing she could just rush back home and hide there. “And who are you with?”
“Oh, I’m free tonight.” The blonde smiled. “Rood was my mark, but I want to do this for you.”
“You mean, you’re giving up a day’s work… for me?”
“Ah, don’t worry about it.” Jessica waved at the Limousine chauffer. “This Rood guy’s a bigwig writer and he’s going to attend some gala publication event. Too boring for me… but you’ll love it, being all bookish yourself.”
“Uh, sure… I mean, I love books… and writers.” Doris had her heart in her mouth as the black car came ever closer. “But what are you going to do all evening?”
“I’ve got a date with a rock star, and here he comes now.” Her friend pointed at a Harley cruising down from the other side. “See you, Dory… have fun.”
She watched the blonde hop onto the pillion seat of the noisy motorcycle and ride off with her rather wild looking date. Her attention turned back to the Limousine as it parked before her and the chauffer stepped out.
“Miss Doris Weston?” The tall man in the sharp uniform of a Limousine driver doffed his hat at her.
“Um, yes.” She nodded nervously.
“I am Norbert; I will be driving you to the New Arcadia Academy Annual Ball, for Mister Rood.” He held the door open for her.
She bit her lips and carefully stepped into the lavish automobile. The white leather seats felt so soft and smooth, and had champagne flute holders built into the arm rests. Doris decided not to touch anything and leaned back, trying to relax. She could hardly feel the car moving, the engines were so smooth and the only way she could tell they were on the way was by the movement outside.
* * * * *
“Good evening, Miss Weston.” The handsome man holding out his arm to her smiled warmly. “I am Jonathan Rood, your date for this evening.”
Quite tall and broad shouldered, Rood looked fairly imposing in person. His well groomed dark brown hair with slender streaks of grey at the temples and clean shaven rugged square jaw captured her attention instantly. He was every bit like the photographs she had seen in the magazines and newspapers, and more. The classy custom made tuxedo he wore would probably outprice a small family car, and it fit his well maintained form perfectly. His radiant smile was what enchanted her the most and Doris stood rooted to the spot. She couldn’t find her voice to respond to this rugged and smartly dressed man whose literary work she had admired for years. Added to that, the magnitude of this lavish event overwhelmed her, and she was there to enjoy an entire evening in the company of this man of such fine talent and devilish good looks as he invited her to a world she had always shied away from.
His smile grew wider and he raised an eyebrow at her. “Miss Laine informed me of the last minute switch, and I don’t really mind, as long as I have a lovely companion for the evening. I understand she also informed you of the… policy. Yes?”
“Uh… y-yes, Mister Rood.” Doris managed to reply in a hoarse whisper, her heart pounded so hard she could barely hear anything else. She felt the familiar sensation of numbness overcome her in the company of a man; especially one so handsome and good looking, and also one she idolized for years.
“Oh, Please. Call me John.” The millionaire author grinned at her. “And I must say, it’s going to be hard adhering to the policy this evening.”
He was looking at her admiringly. This exaggerated look she presented seemed to meet his approval immensely. The dazzling reddish hair, exquisite makeup, delicate gown and elegant shoes did give her a look of something out of a glamour magazine.
“Um, is that…? I mean, if you...” Doris felt incredibly embarrassed under his intense gaze.
“I’m only joking.” Rood was laughing softly. “But you look overwhelmed by all of this razzle-dazzle. Is it your first time out?”
“No, no… Mist… er... John, I mean, yes.” Doris managed to stutter. “It is my first time… doing this.”
“Oh, all right then,” Rood nodded and waved at a bearer serving champagne and wine. “Here, get some of this in you… you’ll feel much better.”
Doris nodded and eagerly accepted the long flute of champagne he held out to her. She sipped a bit and then swallowed the rest in one go. “Yes, this is relaxing, John.” She finally found her nerve and voice.
“Well, yes, it always is.” He smiled and handed her a full goblet of shimmering red wine next. “This is even better.”
God knew she needed the drinks. She sipped the delicious liquid and enjoyed the rich flavor as it filled her with warmth.
“To good health.” Rood nodded and sipped some of the wine. “Now come, walk with me… I am here to make an appearance, and you are here to keep my many lady admirers at bay.”
“Yes, I am… John.” Doris nodded and took his arm as they walked through the crowded banquet hall of the hotel hosting the event.
“Good. So do you have any idea what all this is about?” Rood asked as he waved at people he knew.
“Um… this is the New Arcadia Academy Annual.” She peered at all the illustrious and creative people all around. “It is the event for writers and publishers to celebrate their craft.”
“Hm, I’m impressed. Not many of my escorts would have known that much.” Rood said with some surprise. “Do you by any chance like to read?”
“Oh, yes.” Doris suddenly felt very warm and comfortable. “I love to read.”
“Lovely.” He nodded absently as his gaze rested on the high stage at the end of the hall. “They will announce the ‘writer of the year’ award tonight. Would that be me?”
“Oh, yes… you should be… it would be marvelous.” Doris looked up at him in awe.
�
��Not so much. It’s Nesmir Christie they are presenting it to.” Rood shook his head in resignation. “It’s predetermined, and all of this is just hype.”
“Oh, they are so wrong.” Doris surprised herself with her confidence. “Your writing is far superior to Christie’s.”
“You know of my writing…?” Rood looked at her in astonishment.
“Oh yes, I do. I’ve read all of your books.” Doris felt the heat of excitement rising behind her ears. “Why at the library I work has…”
“Library?” Rood looked at her intently. “You… work in a library?”
“Oh… er, I mean…” Doris blushed red. “I mean… I do this part time…”
“Ha! But you said this is your first time at this earlier….” Rood laughed aloud. “So the Library job isn’t all that lucrative…”
“I might lose that job.” She looked away, fighting back tears. “The only job I had for the last twelve years.”
“Wow!” Rood looked amused. “You know, Doris… you’re the most interesting escort I have ever had. And the most beautiful...”
“What? Me! You can’t be…” Doris blushed furiously. “You’re a famous writer, and I’m just a nobody.”
“Oh, no. Miss Weston.” Rood put his hand on her shoulder. “You are not a Nobody. You are a fan of John Rood. You are my fan, perhaps my greatest fan.”
Doris felt so elated, never had she though she could feel so comfortable with a man in her life. There was so much she wanted to tell him but she understood that it was the wine making her so bold. She decided to calm down and let him do most of the talking.
“Come, I’m getting bored of this place.” Rood offered her his arm. “I’ve a permanent reservation in the penthouse here… and I’m hungry.”
Doris nodded, a little unsteadily, and composed herself. She took his arm and tried to walk beside him the way Jessica showed her; head held high, with balanced and self-assured strides. Instead she shuffled and stumbled, not so adept at wearing gowns and shoes like she was that night, as well as drinking all that rich and heady wine. She giggled into her palm, making Rood look at her in amusement.
A quick elevator ride up and she was sitting with the world renowned writer at a very private table in his own private terrace penthouse the hotel reserved for him. The meal was quite exotic and to die for, and the wine couldn’t get any better. Rood seemed fixated on her, as most of the conversation centered on her and the interest she had in books, namely his books.
“I really find this quite amusing to believe.” Rood was laughing, his face quite exuberant from all that wine. “That you, a librarian, moonlighting as an escort, an avid fan of my work, is on a professional date with me… I’ve never had this experience before, from any of the escorts I hired.”
“It’s rather strange for me too.” She laughed along with him, emboldened by the wine. “I would have never dreamt of even meeting you in a book signing convention, let alone being on a date with you… my first try at this, and… wow!”
“The situational set up sort of reminds me of some of my very early work,” Rood shook his head. “When I was struggling to make it in this competitive business of writing.”
“Oh, would I have read any of them?”
“Don’t think so, I wrote them under a pseudonym, and they weren’t what one would label works of literary accomplishment… a far, far cry from what I do today.”
“Could you tell me about those books.” She looked at him eagerly. “I’d like to read them, if I may.”
“Of course, you can read them anytime.” The tall writer nodded, and then added with a laugh. “But I fear you may not be a fan of my work any more after that.”
“Oh, that’s impossible.” She shook her head adamantly. “I can never stop being a fan of yours.”
“Alright then, those books I wrote, almost ten years ago now… go by the lead character’s name for salability. To name some of them… Beryl Beaver, Fanny Firth, Joana Moaner… that sort of thing.”
Doris stared at him with open mouthed silence for a while. A rush of thoughts clouded her head but none of them found a way down to her vocal chords. She felt a numbness creep all over her, like ice crystals forming over the surface of a lake.
“Oh no, that look on your face.” Rood stared back at her with a bemused smile. “That look tells me you have read those books… or some of them.”
“Uh, I… I…” Doris stammered; her mind at odds between being delighted and disturbed.
Never would she have ever believed that John Rood, her favorite writer for so many years would have also written those racy tales she had so recently discovered and become an addict of. But then this was perfect, in its bizarre outlandish way. It seemed everything was converging, coming to one central point, all at once right there and right then, in this life that she was getting so fed up of living.
“Well, which ones have you read?” The author pressed. “And what did you think of them?”
“Um, well, John…” She took a deep breath. “I’ve never… ever considered confessing to anyone, about my recent fascination for erotica… but it… I mean, this… this, whatever it is that is happening now… I’m beginning to see… or… oh, my god… I don’t know what the hell I’m saying… I don’t know what I am even thinking… my mind’s so fucked up now… Ohmigod, I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… I shouldn’t have said that…”
“Hey, Doris… you need to relax, calm down.” Rood’s voice was a soothing salve. “It’s okay, I swear all the time too… I wrote smut a lot, I love reading them as well. You don’t have to feel embarrassed or ashamed of what you like to do. It’s your life, dear Doris, take charge and get what you want done.”
“Oh, this… this is so insane.” She blubbered. “I never imagined you’d be so… I mean, you’re a celebrity…”
“And I’m also just a normal person, the same as you are.” He leaned in and lifted her chin to make her look at him. “And I never stop at getting what I want, that’s why I could make my life what it is today.”
“Yes, you are… such an inspiring person.” Her eyes brimmed with tears, of relief and joy.
“Well, if you say so.” He had that devilish grin again. “And right now, I think I know what I want… and I want you. To hell with the policy of this non-intimacy bullshit. It’s my money, my rules.”
“What?” She felt a surge, like an electric shock, go all through her. “What are you saying, J-John?”
“I’m saying, you have had my blood on boil ever since I met you, Doris… and then seeing that you are everything I like in a companion and not some decoration to carry on my arm is getting me more worked up than anything ever has.”
“You mean… you like me?” She couldn’t believe her own ears.
“Hell, I’m practically in love with you right now.” He looked into her eyes directly.
“Oh!” Her heart was literally going to jump out of her mouth.
“If you desire, lovely Doris, we could make this into a real date… and I’m not saying this to get into your pants. I never do this… but you, you’ve done something to me… you’ve ignited a passion in me… and I don’t want that fire to ever go out.”
“Oh, those lines are just what Pierre Philippe tells Fanny Firth in the first boo...” She blurted, and then choked on her unbridled enthusiasm.
“I know, I wrote them.” He laughed and tapped the tip of her nose. “So it’s the Forbidden Escapades of Fanny Firth that you’ve read.”
“Uh, yes…” She nodded, not feeling embarrassed any longer. “I did... and I am… reading the third book now.”
“How do you find them?”
“Oh, they are wonderful, John… I never felt so good reading anything else.”
“And do you wish everything Fanny Firth does, you could too?” His grin sent a chill down her back, but it felt good.
“Oh, all the time.” She blurted before she could stop herself.
“Then let’s make your wish come true, sweet Dori
s.” He stood up and grabbed her hand, pulling her up to her feet.
“Oh, but John…?” She swallowed hard as her body pressed against his.
“I want you, Doris… and I can see you want me too.” Rood sounded more serious than he had all evening. “But say the word and I will let you go…”
She looked away, her mind a jumbled mess of emotional and rational synapses waging war. Her body was more than willing, her mind somewhat reluctant. Those stories fuelled her imagination, threatening to tip the balance in favor of doing the unthinkable. She looked back at him and bit her full lower lip. “I want you, John…” She breathed apprehensively. “I… I do. But where can we go…”
“Here and now.” He said and lowered his mouth over hers. “No one will bother us; they can’t afford to lose my custom.”