‘How long had it been since you last saw Tim?’ Will asked.
‘A few days…a week.’
‘Didn’t you think that was weird for a relationship in its early stages? Twelve weeks in and you want to see them all the time, pull their clothes off. Shag mercilessly. You’re consumed by them. If you can’t physically see them, you’re sending messages, having phone conversations—’
‘Facetiming,’ Skye said, patting Will on his shoulders. ‘Your preferred method of keeping a relationship alive, isn’t that right?’
‘You should have knocked first,’ he replied.
‘In my own living room?’
‘What was he was saying again?’ I asked, tipping my head and smiling. ‘Something about wanting to be milked by a dirty cat woman.’
‘She had the costume!’ he protested. ‘It was Halloween.’
‘Not an image I need in my head, Will,’ Skye said as she disappeared into the kitchen.
‘So, Tinder’s off then?’
‘Absolutely,’ I replied. ‘No men, no casual dates, no distractions.’
‘Sounds boring.’
I shook my head. ‘Right now, my only plan is to throw myself into work. Stacey Clifton is about to get serious. My career is my only focus.’ I tapped the table for effect. ‘First stop, conquering Upfront. Next stop, the bloody world!’
3
Stacey
‘Good morning, Stacey. So glad you decided to join us on time today.’
Anna Gilmour, Upfront’s Editorial Director, was not a lady you wanted to disappoint. Pushing her buttons was not an enjoyable pastime, if you wanted to keep your position. Luckily, we’d always got on reasonably well. She once told me I was on her protégé list and I was thrilled, but after making small talk with her husband at the Christmas party, he mentioned the list also featured six others above me. Talk about being brought back down to earth.
‘I hear you’re no longer seeing Tim,’ Anna said. I’d decided to ignore the fact that she set us up. Telling her she was a terrible Cupid was not on my to-do list today.
‘Yeah, turns out he’s a cheat,’ I replied. ‘Who knew?’ I plastered a smile on my face and tried to appear like a woman who was unaffected by crappy men and their lack of morals.
‘What a piece of work,’ she replied, looking genuinely repulsed by Tim’s actions. ‘I honestly thought he was a good guy.’
‘I’m sure he is. Underneath the cheating part.’
‘I can’t stand it when a plan doesn’t come together,’ she replied, slumping down onto the chair at the head of the conference room table. ‘Maybe I could set you up with someone else?’
‘Oh, that’s lovely, Anna but I’m off the market for a while. I’m taking a break,’ I replied, taking a sip from my coffee cup. The barista had labeled my cup as Stash instead of Stace, which was proving to be hilarious to my colleagues around the table this morning.
‘A break? Really?’
‘Yeah. I want to concentrate on work without any distractions. I have some great ideas for new articles.’
‘Hold on, then,’ she said, her lips twitching into a smile. ‘We’re about to start the planning meeting for the next edition. Let’s see what comes from that.’ She looked at me for a beat longer than necessary, her eyes dropping to my fingers where I had started scribbling into a notepad. She lifted her head, tilted her chin, and finally, she moved her intense stare away from me and threw it over the rest of the table. ‘Let’s make a start, shall we. Vanessa, ideas for our Valentine’s edition. Go.’
‘Erm…good morning, Anna. I’ve been researching quirky gifts and feel this would be a great angle to go with.’ She lifted a pair of socks with her face on them. ‘Personalised socks. These were sent to me today, along with these.’ She lifted up a pair of boxer briefs with Anna’s face in the meat and two veg area. I squeezed my lips together to keep from smiling. ‘Romantic gifts with a hidden agenda. Who would cheat if they’re wearing boxers with their girlfriends face on them?’
‘Charming,’ Anna said, totally deadpan.
‘Or this.’ She held up a jar of Marmite with a love heart on the label. ‘Valentine’s Day limited edition jars.’
‘How thoughtful,’ Anna replied with a roll of her eyes. ‘OK. We’ll go with it. Have something for me by the end of the day. Cody. You’re next. Go.’
‘Of course, Anna. Thank you.’ I could feel his nerves from across the table and swore I felt a vibration when I leant on my elbows. ‘My idea is how to guarantee an amazing Valentine’s evening.’ Anna sighed with the power a hurricane and Cody panicked, his voice hitching up a notch and a mighty gasp of stuttering ensued. ‘It will have a t-t-totally different spin on it, Anna.’
‘Boring.’
‘We can bring up Netflix and Chill, easy recipes for a lovely night in. H-h-homemade gifts to make it extra special. Love tokens…where to get the best-selling condoms.’
‘It’s been done,’ Anna said, sighing in her authoritative way. Very hard to master. Only a female alpha could do it with flair. ‘I need something new and exciting.’ She stared down the table and everyone visibly sank down into their chairs. ‘This is what you’re paid for, isn’t it? Come on. Someone!’
I raised my pen and smiled tentatively.
‘Yes, Stacey.’
‘Why are we focusing on couples? We’re assuming that everyone has their own valentine to buy personalised socks for.’
‘Go on,’ Anna said, peering at me from over her glasses but just as I was about to speak, Cody piped up again.
‘That’s unoriginal, Stacey. There’s nothing new there. We ran a story last year about how to survive Valentine’s day if you’re single.’
I looked down at my notepad and doodled a few swirls to buy myself some time. Then it came. An idea that arrived with bloody bells on.
‘Why do we need to survive Valentine’s day?’ I sat up in my chair, annoyed that if you’re single, Valentine’s day should be treated as an apocalypse. ‘We could tap into the positives. Look at people who embrace the day by going out for a meal with friends or buying themselves a gift to show how much they love themselves.’
‘You may have something here,’ Anna said, pulling out a folder from her humongous Louis Vuitton bag. She flicked it open and pulled out some papers. ‘I was contacted by a woman last week who wanted to share her story. I wasn’t comfortable with certain aspects, privacy, where we stood legally, et cetera, et cetera. However, I made contact with…the subject matter, and we had a great discussion over the phone.’
I frowned at her use of subject matter, wondering where on earth she was going with this.
‘She meets regularly with a male escort. She explained that she’d lost her husband to cancer a few years ago. She’s in her fifties—young to lose a partner. She missed the intimate side of their relationship but didn’t want all of the other stuff that went with it.’ She closed her eyes like she completely understood. ‘She’s been having a wonderful time with this man and wanted to thank him in some way by talking about her experiences in our magazine.’
‘Like free advertising?’ Cody said, laughing.
‘Exposure is part of it, but,’ Anna said, before looking at me, ‘do you see where I’m going with this?’ I nodded and started making notes. ‘Talk to me.’
‘This woman isn’t in a relationship but is fulfilled.’ She frowned but I didn’t let it stop me. ‘The article could focus on different experiences of relationships that are considered unconventional but still fulfilling.’
‘I’m not excited,’ Anna replied, dropping her head into her hands.
‘Her story could be the main focus of the piece, but we could look at others. The Valentine’s edition could be about embracing the day positively, no matter what your situation.’
‘How about we start with this?’ Anna replied, pushing the folder towards me.
‘I’d love to. Are her details in here?’ I casually flicked through the papers but inside, I was brimming over,
about to burst. I held in a squeee noise that threatened to escape my mouth by chewing on the end of my pen.
‘No,’ she replied. ‘I don’t want you to interview her. I want you to interview him.’ She tapped her finger on a photograph that was black-and-white and grainy as anything. I picked it up and studied it. ‘His name is Matthew Shaw, and he will be the focus of this article.’
Despite the poor-quality photograph, Matthew Shaw couldn’t have been hotter if he’d been served up on a hot plate at the world’s spiciest restaurant. He was wearing a black t-shirt, but the muscles were making an escape from the fabric. He was taut and defined, and every bump of his shoulders were perfect and large. He had shiny, dark hair that was swept to the side in that glorious hipster way—parted and lazily long on top, shaved around the edges. His beard was trimmed to faultlessness and framed the jaw that had been chipped out of granite from the quarries of heaven.
Flipping heck, even his eyebrows were sexy.
‘He’s the escort?’ I croaked, clearing my throat to bring back some professionalism.
‘He’s a fascinating man, with many stories to tell. He’s incredibly respectful of the women he meets and would like to discuss further the idea of being featured in an article. In fact, he’s meeting me here in exactly’—she tapped her iPhone—‘twenty minutes.’
‘Twenty minutes?’ I took a gulp of coffee.
‘Shall we chat before he arrives?’ Anna asked, and I nodded. ‘Meeting adjourned until later this afternoon.’ We waited until the room was empty, and when Cody shut the door behind him, I gasped out a breath and started laughing. Anna stared at me. ‘May I ask what you’re finding so funny?’
I held up the photo. ‘He’s an escort?’
‘Yes.’
‘Women pay to have sex with him?’
‘Yes.’
‘He must be inundated,’ I replied. ‘Really.’ I snorted out another laugh, trying to cover it up with my hand. ‘He must be exhausted, the poor guy.’
I noticed Anna bit her lip to stop herself joining in. ‘He appears to be very popular.’
I pointed to his amazing face. ‘I’m sure.’
‘He’s only been an escort for four months.’
‘What was he doing before? Modelling? It must be. He was a model, wasn’t he?’ I laughed into my hand again but noticed Anna watching me warily. ‘What? Oh, crap. He was a porn star, wasn’t he? That’s why he’s so popular, because he’s learnt from the best.’
‘I have no idea,’ she replied. ‘Perhaps that could be a question for your interview.’
A knock on the door broke my thoughts.
‘Enter.’
‘Excuse me, Anna, but Mr Shaw has arrived.’
‘He’s early,’ she said, barely looking at Jas from reception. ‘Offer him a drink and tell him I’ll be there shortly.’
‘Yes, Anna.’
‘Do you want me to interview him today?’ I asked, panicked because I hadn’t had time to prepare.
‘No, he’s just coming in for an informal chat today. I hadn’t decided what angle I wanted to go with, if we even used his story at all.’ She narrowed her eyes at me, and I gulped. ‘I’d like you to meet him. Ask him some tentative questions. Show genuine interest and come back to me with an angle. We’ll go from there.’
‘Fine. That’s great. OK.’
‘You seem nervous,’ Anna noted as she walked to the door. ‘Why?’
Where would I start? A lot was riding on this. She was essentially leaving me to come up with my own vision, something she rarely did unless she trusted you could do a good job. This could define my career and how I was viewed here. There was also the small matter that he was quite possibly the most gorgeous man I would ever meet in the flesh, and he sold sex for a living.
‘I don’t feel as prepared as I should be,’ I stuttered.
‘Why should you? I’ve only just landed this on you,’ she replied, opening the door as she arched an eyebrow. ‘All you need to do now is prove yourself to me.’
‘Easy,’ I squeaked.
Oh, shit. I’m going to vomit all over Anna followed by the really hot man.
I pulled out some papers from the folder and looked at Anna’s handwritten notes.
He sees himself as offering an important service to women. Virgins. Older women. Divorcees. Widows. Those whose husbands who can no longer perform. Sometimes they just chat and go out for dinner. Sex is involved only if they are 100% comfortable and give full consent. Services include oral, penetrative, digital, anal…
The door flew open.
‘Holy fuck!’ I slammed the folder shut, pushing it to the other side of the table. It slipped and skidded before thumping onto the floor and next to a pair of black boots. I stood, smoothed my hair down, and let my eyes fall on Matthew Shaw.
Holy hot cakes.
‘Mr Shaw, this is Stacey.’ Anna stood behind him and tried to stop herself from laughing. It was interesting to see this different side to her, but I didn’t have time to dwell on that for long because Mr February from my ‘Men with Tight Thighs’ calendar was paying me a visit.
I stuck out my hand like a robot. Oh Jesus, he was even more gorgeous in the flesh. He was stunning. A man that impeccable shouldn’t be allowed out in public. ‘Nice to meet you.’
‘Hi, Stacey.’ He took my hand and I swear ‘Let’s Get It On’ started playing in the background. Marvin Gaye, eat your heart out. I almost slipped a shoulder out of my blouse. ‘I’m Matt.’
‘Yes,’ I replied, still clutching his hand. ‘I’m aware. I mean, I guessed. I realised. Would you like to take a seat?’
I pulled out the chair next to mine and then tried to recover from a bad case of wobbly legs and flipping stomach only to discover that now he was sitting in close proximity, I could smell him. Pheromones were rolling off him like a particularly heavy tide. Smells were often taken for granted. I liked to mix up my perfumes and smell good, but he was taking it to a whole other level. The man smelled like someone who knew his way around the trickier areas of the female body. In fact, he smelled like a sex god from Sex Gods R Us.
‘I’ve asked Stacey to meet with you this morning. We’re very interested, aren’t we, Stacey?’ Anna said.
‘Very.’
‘We’d love to know more about you.’
‘We would. Most definitely.’
‘I’ll leave you to it,’ Anna said.
‘To what?’ I asked, eyes wide. My cute shorts were suddenly feeling two sizes too small.
‘Your interview,’ Anna replied with a twitch of a smile.
I turned to Matt, who looked like he was willing me to be normal. A shy smile graced his face. Totally not what I was expecting.
‘Are you OK?’ he asked, pointing to the door. ‘I can come back.’
‘No!’ I said, far too quickly. ‘It’s fine. I just…need to get myself together.’
‘Of course,’ he replied. ‘Just say when you’re ready for me.’
I bit my lip at the innuendo that wasn’t really an innuendo but, in my head, absolutely was.
‘Ready.’
‘Where would you like me to start?’
Oh, sweet innuendo. Help me.
4
Stacey
‘What type of a magazine is this? Your boss said women’s, but I have no idea what that actually means,’ Matt said. ‘I asked a friend, but he said it’s mainly full of sex tips and new positions.’
‘Position of the month,’ I confirmed. ‘I’m not a writer for that part of the publication.’
Thank Christ. I often wondered where the hell they got them from. If I was writing the article, I would be clutching at straws after three months. Missionary, doggie, and cowgirl. What else is there to know?
‘I should have a subscription,’ Matt said, laughing. ‘Pick up some new moves.’
I started giggling like a schoolgirl. A full-on flirty noise and I wanted to bury myself under the carpet tiles. Matt laughed before dropping his gaze shyly.
/>
Clearing my throat, I picked up my pen. ‘It is a women’s magazine. We have a mixture of showbiz, fashion, news, current affairs, and…position of the month.’ He stuck up his thumb adorably. ‘It’s nothing seedy. I’m not a porn writer.’
‘So, you’re not being pressured to do this by a sleazy boss with a fetish.’
‘No,’ I gasped. ‘In fact, she’s a mother of two, with a lovely Toyota Yaris. Great for getting the boys to football. She had her garden landscaped recently. She’s very successful.’
‘She must be,’ he replied with a slight smile.
I let his words sink in. ‘When you said pressured, what exactly did you mean?’
‘Into doing this.’
‘Interviewing you?’
‘Well, yeah, and…you know,’ he replied, glancing at me.
‘I’m not sure I’m following.’
‘Using my services.’ He laughed nervously a few times before covering his mouth. This turned into a full beard stroke before his eyes were focused on mine again. ‘Oh…shit. Sorry. I must have this…wrong. Ignore me.’
‘What do you have wrong?’ I was panicking now.
He took a breath and smiled. Gah, his teeth were perfect too. ‘Anna said, as part of the interview, you would want to have the whole experience too.’
‘No!’ I replied, clutching my chest. Did we have a defibrillator in the office? For the first time in my life, I thought it was vital I knew. Air was escaping me, and the walls were closing in. ‘I’m just interviewing you…not…Christ.’
‘I thought that was the point of the article? To get a real experience. I was hoping for a more humanistic angle, to blow away the stereotypes about male escorts and their clients.’
‘Is that what Anna said?’ I asked, wondering why she had failed to mention this to me. It would have been nice for a heads-up.
One Night Only Page 3