One Night Only

by Stewart, Lynsey M.

  ‘Who is that?’ Orlando asked as I pushed my hair behind my ear.

  ‘Oh…that’s Matt,’ I replied. ‘We met at…work.’

  Another man had joined him. Oh lord. Was he on a date? I wondered if he did M/M escorting too, and why did that add another layer of complication to my poor, strangled heart? It was in a chokehold now, Matt’s fingers wrapped tightly around it.

  ‘Are you OK? You seem flushed,’ Orlando asked as I flapped the menu in front of my face. I looked at his name badge with a little drawing of a pill bottle underneath his surname.

  ‘Yeah. Fine,’ I said. ‘Just suddenly hot. You don’t have anything in your bag for me, do you? Something to help the flush?’ I laughed, a snort escaping. Orlando looked horrified as I covered my face.

  ‘I’m a pharmacist, not a doctor,’ he replied flatly. ‘I can’t prescribe medication.’

  Oh dear. He was serious; not even a flicker of a smile. Alongside a distinct aversion to sex and not a spec of humour, I really needed to end this date.

  Just like ripping off a plaster. Fast and efficient.

  ‘Orlando,’ I said, thinking about the promises I made to myself not to drag out a date if it didn’t feel right. ‘I think we both know this isn’t going to work.’

  ‘I think you’re right,’ he agreed. ‘You seem preoccupied.’ He glanced over my head to where Matt was sitting. ‘Again, I’m sorry if I upset you.’

  ‘Can I give you some advice?’ He nodded as I smiled. ‘Maybe on your next date, don’t offend them before you’ve ordered the starter.’

  ‘Jesus, I’m no good at this,’ he replied, showing his softer, more vulnerable, side. I wondered if his dating history was as disastrous as mine.

  ‘You’ll be fine once you find your person,’ I said. ‘I just don’t think I’m it.’

  I thought back to my previous dates, the men I should have had similar conversations with but didn’t. It felt freeing, to be able to do it without the feeling of guilt that normally accompanied it. The waiter brought our bill and I placed a ten pound note on the small silver plate to cover our drinks. Orlando protested but I wasn’t having it.

  ‘It’s on me,’ I said as I stood and offered a hug. ‘It was nice to meet you. Good luck with your future dating endeavors.’

  He let me go, downed his apple juice, and grabbed his jacket. ‘You too.’

  I watched Orlando leave, giving me a brief wave as he disappeared up the steps to the entrance. I glanced over my shoulder to Matt, trying not to be obvious I needed another glimpse of him, to get a fix of his forearms, but Matt was looking at me with a glare that was equal parts hurt, confused, and thoroughly pissed. I noticed he’d ordered the chicken katsu curry. My favourite. The man was a perfect specimen of perfection—aside from the escorting. The guy who’d joined him put his arm around Matt’s neck, pulling him into his chest. They clasped hands and laughed, the guy nodding his head to me before leaving. Matt picked up his plate and walked over to my table.

  ‘Hey, you,’ he said, the hurt, confused, and pissed look now replaced with a smile.

  ‘Hey.’

  ‘Can I sit?’ he asked, not allowing me to reply as he sat in Orlando’s empty seat.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I smiled.

  ‘Eating,’ he joked as I smirked. ‘It’s my favourite place.’

  ‘Mine too.’

  ‘I usually drop in after the gym. Unfortunately, it’s far too convenient.’

  ‘You ordered the katsu,’ I said randomly, and he smiled behind his beard stroke.

  ‘Were you spying on me?’ I rolled my eyes as I held my hands out in front of his plate. ‘I’m pretty sure everyone orders this.’

  ‘I would, but I haven’t got that far.’

  ‘Excuse me,’ Matt said as the waitress left the next table. ‘Can we get another one of these? Cheers.’ He smiled. ‘Sorted. Who was the guy?’

  The question burst from him like he couldn’t keep it in any longer, chit-chat and smiles too much to continue.

  ‘I was set up on a blind date.’

  He lifted his eyebrows briefly and muttered, ‘Hello darkness, my old friend.’

  ‘What’s does that even mean?’ I laughed.

  ‘You don’t know?’ he asked, shaking his head. ‘Stace, honestly?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Doesn’t matter,’ he replied, his lips lifting slightly.

  ‘You don’t like seeing me on a date?’

  ‘I wouldn’t say like.’ He smiled. ‘But I have no right to say that…ignore me.’

  ‘I’m thinking double standards, Matt. You’re full of ’em.’ He put his fist to his mouth and started coughing, leaning over and laughing in between short barks. I could handle his double standards for now, but I didn’t know how I was going to order this conversation from my head into the bite-sized pieces I’d find easier to analyse later. I just knew I wanted to keep him with me a while longer. Hear his easy laughter, feel the slip of his hand—oops—on my knee.

  ‘Did you like him?’

  ‘Well, he just left,’ I replied. ‘So, what do you think?’

  His smile bloomed. ‘He wasn’t right for you. I could tell by the look on his face when you snorted. It can take you by surprise when you aren’t expecting it.’ I covered my nose as another snort slipped through and Matt smiled brightly. ‘I’ve missed it,’ he replied. ‘It’s good to hear it again.’

  I tried not to melt at his smile, his words…him. We couldn’t forget the client/journalist dynamic and his full-to-bursting escort diary. ‘How’s business?’ I threw at him. Couldn’t help myself. This time, he rolled his eyes as he continued eating. I swear, I could feel his hands brush my knee again.

  ‘How’s the article coming along?’

  Touché.

  ‘Slowly,’ I replied. ‘It’s proving to be quite difficult.’

  ‘Really? Why’s that?’

  ‘The content. It’s quite sexual. I need to be careful with my wording.’

  He rubbed his forehead with his hand. ‘Has Anna told you I spoke to her?’

  ‘She said you’re having second thoughts.’

  ‘She’s reassured me you’ll be meeting with my clients,’ he said. ‘That’s what I wanted all along.’

  ‘I tried to call you myself, but you didn’t answer.’

  ‘No,’ he replied, focusing on his katsu, pushing it around the plate. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Didn’t you want to speak to me?’

  ‘Yes.’ He let out a sigh, brushed his hand over his face. ‘Every second of every day.’

  ‘Don’t say that,’ I replied, unable to accept his words.

  ‘Why? Because it was just a job to you?’

  I gasped at his words. ‘To me? What about you?’

  ‘Did you get what you needed for the article?’

  ‘Was I good a client?’ I rushed back.

  ‘You were never a client and you know it.’

  ‘What we did,’ I said, hesitating but unable to hold onto the words any longer. ‘Did you really think it was seedy?’

  ‘Fuck no,’ he spluttered, taking my hand and linking our little fingers. ‘It was so far from seedy.’

  Why was he so easy to be around? Why did I yearn for him yet push him away in equal measures?

  ‘You told Anna things had turned seedy.’ I closed my eyes, fighting the lump in my throat.

  ‘The article, Stace, not us. I didn’t want it to be just about sex. A raucous, sleazy take on what I do.’

  ‘You can trust me,’ I said. ‘It won’t be sleazy.’

  ‘Have you thought about me?’ he asked, his voice low.

  ‘Yes,’ I replied.

  ‘Did you enjoy…our time together?’

  I thanked the waitress as she brought over my food and stared at our plates, smiling at the matching katsu curry. ‘Yeah…of course I did.’

  ‘I’ve never made a woman cry before,’ he said, smirking. ‘That was a first for me.’

  I let my head drop
back as I laughed. ‘Oh my God! That was the result of a collection of feelings hitting me alongside the super-orgasm.’

  ‘What feelings?’ he asked softly.

  ‘Nothing,’ I replied, smiling coyly. Flashes of Matt’s hard body on top of my softer one started to spread through my mind again.

  ‘Go on,’ he said. ‘You look like you’ve gone to a heavenly place. I’d like to be there too.’

  ‘Where did you learn to do that thing with my nipples?’

  ‘Oh, that thing.’ He looked at them like he was remembering, and his smile told me he was enjoying the trip. I couldn’t be right, could I? What made my nipples special? He did that fantastic thing to other people’s nipples. Many others. Ranging from Mavis, the fifty-something widow with a false hip, and Fran, the virgin wallflower who wanted to lose the tag. ‘I had a Saturday job at a hairdressing salon. The senior stylist liked me.’

  ‘Ooh, you had your own Mrs Robinson?’

  ‘No, she was a year older.’ I screwed up my face as he laughed. ‘She let me touch her boobs behind the hair washing station, showed me what she liked.’

  ‘Classy.’

  ‘You should be thanking her and anyway, don’t avoid the question,’ he said. ‘I’m interested to know what epiphany your orgasm induced?’

  I curled my fingers to my nose and looked around as I lowered my voice. ‘I’ve finally accepted that I’m a sexy woman.’ He smiled widely. ‘That I’ve wasted huge amounts of time on the wrong guys because other things were more important. Now, I know that if they’d been important, I’d have made time for them.’

  I started eating. ‘Actually, most of them didn’t deserve to have me anyway. I can’t pinpoint when disillusion crept in, Matt, but flippin’ heck, I’ve dated some losers.’ I pointed my chopstick at him. ‘I shouldn’t be ashamed to admit I like sex, enjoy it, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. One-night stands. Fuck buddies.’ I leant in to him. ‘Using escorts. There shouldn’t be any shame in a woman exploring her sexuality, in or out of a relationship.’

  ‘An orgasm from me did all that? Wow. I have got skills.’ I laughed loudly, mouthing, ‘Sorry’ to the next table as they tried to hide their smiles. He took my hand, connecting my little finger with his. ‘You’re amazing. Fuck, look at you.’

  ‘You don’t have to do that,’ I whispered, watching our hands, liking them together.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Say things to make me feel special. We’re not on a date now.’

  ‘Did you think it was all an act?’ he asked. ‘Part of my spiel?’ He looked like he’d discovered a secret code to unlock an ancient language, his eyes wide and head cocked. ‘Fuck, that’s it, isn’t it? Stace, not one thing was… I don’t feel… I’ve…never kissed them that way.’

  I bit the corner of my mouth.

  ‘I know you must be thinking, “He kisses women all the time. He’s used to it, perfected his skills.” The truth is, it’s never felt that way with anyone. Jesus, that night?’ He leant in, lowered his voice. ‘I’ve never wanted someone more.’

  ‘I want to believe you,’ I said softly, watching his astonishing face. I wondered when he’d started filling the spaces between the parts of myself I’d forgotten. I could feel him in there, welcomed the safety and protection I felt whenever he was close. I believed he’d never hurt me and that was ironic because he would eventually. He’d fill those spaces and offer the same feeling of safety to a significant number of other women. I knew I couldn’t handle that. I would drive myself crazy with the stabs of jealousy that would pierce me so sharply he could never fill those spaces again.

  ‘Come on another date with me and I’ll show you. No interview, no questions. Just us.’

  I wanted to say yes, and was close to nodding my head but I shook it instead, remembering Mavis and Fran and all the others whose names I would get to know. The faceless women and the jealously they would procure, taking Matt and our happily ever after away from me.

  ‘Tomorrow night. You and me. Forget the article, the clients—’

  ‘Do you have a client booked?’ I asked, knowing his answer when his face dropped.

  ‘I’ll push it to another time.’

  I shook my head and pushed my plate away. I couldn’t eat anymore. ‘I can’t forget.’

  ‘Is that why you’re saying no?’ he asked. ‘Not because you don’t like me or don’t see the spark we have?’ I took a deep breath and looked away. ‘It’s a no because of what I do?’

  ‘It matters.’

  ‘Why?’ He dropped his gaze. ‘Shit. Sorry. I don’t know why I said that. Of course it matters.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I replied.

  ‘My job’s not a big part of me, Stace.’

  ‘It is,’ I replied. ‘I don’t understand how you would feel it isn’t. Journalism is everything to me.’

  ‘Escorting isn’t everything to me.’

  ‘But you chose this profession—’

  ‘I didn’t,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I didn’t choose to do this.’

  ‘Then why?’ I asked, leaning in to the table, trying to get closer to him. I may not be able to accept the escorting side of his life but the thought of hurting him, of making him feel judged, that was too much for me to take on.

  ‘We’re back to interviewing again, Stace.’ He stood and dropped some cash onto the table.

  ‘Stay with me a while,’ I pleaded. He had a look of disbelief that we’d found ourselves here, on shaky ground when the foundations hadn’t even been laid yet.

  ‘You said you didn’t know where being a client ends and real feelings start. I feel the same when I’m being questioned, Stace. How am I supposed to know what’s for the article and what’s because of genuine interest?’

  ‘Please stay,’ I said, holding up my hands. ‘No more questions.’

  ‘Don’t judge me on what I do,’ he replied.

  ‘I’m not judging.’ I stood up to get an equal balance, but he still towered over me. ‘I’m just not sure I can share you with other women.’

  His throat bobbed and his face dropped into a defeated I understand you grimace. He’d said himself he didn’t have girlfriends because he understood the big ask of quietly allowing him to fuck a handful of other women each week. I didn’t do anything quietly. My jealousy and sadness would come screaming through the minute he climbed into bed with me after a date.

  ‘I get it,’ he replied, backing away and hanging his head. ‘It’s just a fucking shame.’

  17

  Matt

  ‘You owe me a katsu curry, mate,’ Ste said as he pulled up outside the doors of the Merryweather Rehabilitation Centre.

  ‘I know,’ I replied. ‘Thanks for sitting it out.’

  ‘I’d say you’re welcome, but you’ve been in a state of misery ever since. I’m guessing it didn’t go well?’

  ‘She was on a blind date and then continued the torture by turning down a real date with me because she can’t forget the-fucking-other-women part of my job spec.’ I opened the car door and got out. ‘So, no. It didn’t go great.’

  ‘Mate, I can see her point, and you’re pissed because you can too.’

  ‘True.’ I grabbed my bag from the backseat and leant in to the car. ‘It made me remember why I made the “no girlfriend” rule.’

  Stacey sent me a text message the next morning, asking if I was all right. For the best of my emotional health, I chose to ignore it. She’d made a good point; one I’d established myself before I started escorting and never considered breaking until I met the woman I’d hoped for all my life. It didn’t make it any easier, though, or less confusing. I knew she was happy to see me. I could tell from the lip bite as she tried to stop herself from smiling. She couldn’t hide her emotions, in fact, she was rubbish at it. A woman as open and warm as Stacey found it hard to hide themselves.

  ‘What time shall I pick you up?’ Ste asked.

  ‘Give it an hour,’ I said, banging my hand on the roof of his
car. ‘I’m not sure what mood he’ll be in.’

  ‘Take it easy, I’m worried about you, man.’

  ‘Nothing a gym session won’t fix,’ I replied. Ste was my companion when I needed to pump out the shit-show that was my life through weights and cardio. We were preparing for an Ironman contest and needed the gym time badly.

  ‘See you later.’ I waved as security let him out through the gates.

  Welcome to Merryweather.

  I dragged my hand down my face as I prepared myself. Merryweather was a high security private rehabilitation centre. It had a reputation for luxury and high-profile celebrities were pushed here by their PA’s and managers when their cocaine habit become less habit, more existence.

  And my dad had been a resident here for the last four months.

  ‘It’s Matt. Mr Shaw’s son,’ I said through the intercom, a buzz blaring as they let me through. Pulling the heavy door open, I was met at reception by one of the nurses.

  ‘He’s having a good day. Don’t look so worried.’ I wiped the back of my hand across my forehead as she laughed. ‘He’s in the entertainment room. There’s a football match on television so it’s quite busy. Oh, and there’s a letter for you.’ She took an envelope out of the folder she was carrying and handed it over.

  ‘Thanks.’

  She used her pass to let me through another set of double doors and I followed the sounds of the football commentary as I opened the letter. It was the final demand notice to complete the payment for Dad’s stay. He was due to be released at the end of the month and neither of us knew how to feel about that.

  ‘Bloody hell, this game is bleak as!’ I could hear my father’s dulcet tones. He was Essex through and through. The accent only got thicker the older he became. ‘Couldn’t score a goal if the ball was placed in bleedin’ front of it!’

  ‘Not a great game?’ I asked as I pulled up a chair next to him.