Tiago

by Shayne Ford

“Sit.”

  Tensely, I lower myself in my seat and set my briefcase and my bag next to me on the floor.

  Her phone buzzes on her desk, claiming her attention for a moment. She checks a message on the screen as my eyes hover over her face. She looks well put together even now at the end of a long workday.

  She took her jacket off, and a drink sits on her desk.

  Her hair and makeup are flawless, her skin smooth and plump.

  Come to think of it, nobody knows much about this woman, yet everybody’s intimidated by her.

  Her reputation precedes her, and that’s why the department she oversees works so well. She has no problem replacing people who don’t share her work values, and I’m sure that watching porn at work is not one of them.

  I’m out of my job––there’s no doubt in my mind, and this must be the final interview.

  She starts typing a message, her lips pressed together, not a smidgen of a smile on her face.

  It’s late for dealing with a business matter, but it doesn’t look to be a personal either. The woman lives and breathes business.

  “So,” she says, plopping her phone on her desk, and swinging a stern gaze to me. “Do you know why you’re here?”

  Of course, I do, but stating that would make for a horrible opening.

  “No,” I say, my jaw locked.

  She leans back into her seat, her eyes on me. Sweat coats my palms.

  Her brow furrows as she weighs her words.

  “Considering that you are fairly new in this firm and still very much inexperienced, you’re doing a great job,” she says, her eyes tipping down only for a second.

  Okay...

  That’s, um... a surprise.

  I don’t know where she’s going with this, but I’m fairly sure that a ‘but’ is coming my way.

  “But you’re not here because of your job.”

  My mouth falls open, my eyebrows flicking up.

  Puzzled, I look at her.

  “No?”

  She studies my face for a moment.

  “How old are you? Twenty-something?”

  I’m sure she has access to my Employee Personnel File, but I get it that she wants to steer our conversation away from the workplace topic.

  “Five,” I say, my throat dry. “I’m twenty-five, soon to be twenty-six,” I say, clearing my throat.

  “And is that phone ‘thing’ the best that you can do?” she asks casually, her polished red nail tapping her cellphone absently.

  I look at her speechless.

  I didn’t see that coming.

  For one, she knows exactly what it was. Then she said that it has nothing to do with my job. And then... Did she just call me out on that?

  “What do you mean?” I mutter.

  She straightens her back, and leans forward, her elbows sliding onto her desk.

  She brings her drink to her lips, her eyebrows lifting slowly as she shoots me a questioning look.

  The woman is full of surprises, isn’t she?

  “I mean, um... Are you referring to...? What exactly are your referring to?” I mumble.

  She sets her drink down.

  “Today you put your job on the line for some video that wasn’t even addressed to you personally, I suspect. Was it?” she asks, making me lose my breath completely.

  “No, it wasn’t,” I say rushed. “I’m sorry. It was a stupid mistake––”

  Her hand shots up, killing my blabbering.

  “I’m not interested in hearing your excuse. Besides, what you did was inexcusable and stupid.”

  “I know,” I say, my voice loaded with regret.

  My gaze tips down, tracing her desk.

  “Was he worth it?”

  I look up.

  “What?”

  “The man in the clip. Was he worth it to risk your job so that you see his stuff?”

  “No. Of course, not.”

  “Do you know him? Does he know that you exist?”

  It takes me a second.

  “No.”

  “I assume you’re single...” she says, her eyes trained on me.

  “Yes.”

  A few moments tick by.

  The silence builds up, making me feel even more embarrassed.

  She studies me for a few more moments before she speaks again.

  “The reason you were not fired on the spot today was that I saw myself in you.”

  Her words should kill my fears, and yet they drown me in angst.

  She takes a long breath before she continues.

  “I want to tell you something that I didn’t tell anyone. Something I wish someone else would’ve told me when I was your age.”

  My gaze stays on her face.

  She reads my eyes for a few seconds.

  “Like you, I wasted a lot of time on stupid stuff.”

  Her words inject a dose of optimism in me.

  At least, I’m not alone. A small smile sprouts on my lips.

  She doesn’t grin, though, and my smile slides off my lips.

  “You probably ask yourself right now, why of all people in this firm, I’m confessing to you.”

  Slowly, I tip my chin down.

  “Because I’ve seen it so many times. And as I said it before, I went through what you’re going through right now.”

  She pauses for a moment before she continues.

  “You know how people say that happiness comes from this or that or the other. Or you can find it here or there.”

  I nod again, out of politeness.

  “Yes.”

  “We’re all looking for it, and we all have the chance to find it, but we often miss out on it completely. I know that I’m not saying anything new here, but happiness is everywhere,” she says with an even voice. “It’s in the little things and big things. It’s in the other people–– the right people. It’s in the things of the past and the things of the present. It’s the hope for a better future. It’s intrinsic to our lives, but for the most part, we are blind to it. And it makes sense, doesn’t it?”

  Her question is obviously rhetorical. I don’t think she expects me to answer it, so I only nod.

  She continues.

  “You can’t find something if you don’t know what you’re looking for. And you don’t know what you’re looking for if you don’t have enough experience to understand what it is. And that happens to someone young, like you. Because of that, you miss out a lot.”

  She pauses for another moment, her thoughts congruent with mine.

  “That’s why today when I was waiting for Curt Clemens to move his gaze away from you so that I can slip your phone back and save your butt, a thought crossed my mind. How could one of the brightest, most gifted people I have had the pleasure to work with in my career miss out so much? How could she do the same mistakes that I had done when I was wasting the best opportunities of my life?”

  Her words fall on me like boulders.

  A tremor claims my chin.

  “I don’t understand,” I murmur, shattered by her solemn admission.

  She observes me for a moment.

  “Do you know why you were playing with your phone, and obviously putting your job and possibly career on the line?”

  “Stupidity?” I suggest seriously.

  She lifts her finger, disappointment reading on her face.

  “You wanted to escape reality. Do you know why?”

  She doesn’t wait for my answer.

  “Because when one part of your life is in crisis, it ruins the other parts. If you miss out on love, it affects your work. If you’re not happy at work, it ruins your relationship. Do you see how this works?”

  I listen in silence, unable to argue.

  “Before I say what I’m about to say, I want to give you a fair warning. I wouldn’t consider it advice. I’m not good at giving advice, and frankly, I don’t want to. I am going to tell you my story, and you use the information any way you see fit because in the end, you must do what you think it’s bes
t for you. The reason why I’m doing this is that I want to have my conscience clear. I want to know that I did the right thing.”

  She pauses while I wait for her to speak again.

  “When I was about your age I did the exact same thing that you are doing. I started a career early on, and I excelled at my job. I had friends and plenty of suitors–– I’m not gonna lie. Some of them were better than others, some more experienced than others, and some were opportunities that no one should ever pass up. You know what I did? Most of the time, nothing. I made a few choices–– wrong choices. I played with a few opportunities–– lost them, and they never came back. And then I completely screwed a few of them because I was ignorant. I let myself misguided, and in the end, I had to play several life roles that weren’t mine. For the longest time, I pretended that I was a shrewd businesswoman at work and the understanding, caring woman in my personal life. I was a traditionally raised woman, and I abode by the conventions, but I wasn’t happy. After I wasted several chances to find someone who meant something to me, I carefully chose between a few suitors, and I got married. I was married for fifteen years. That’s a long time in this day and age. It wasn’t a bad marriage by most standards. We never had kids–– neither of us wanted them, and that allowed us to spend a lot of time with each other. It all went well until routine set in. And then complacency, and contempt. I’ll spare you the sappy ending because it wasn’t pretty. The only thing I want to add is that we weren’t one of those couples that manage to keep the fire of their affection burning, regardless of how much time had passed. We took whatever we had for each other and turned it into a pile of crap. Our life together became predictable, like a bad sitcom. Needless to say, our intimate life was almost non-existent as we drained ourselves of feelings for each other. By the end of our marriage, we were arguing over everything, from whose turn is to take the garbage out and who needs to pick up the mail.”

  She smiles, bittersweet.

  “They say, you have to choose your battles in life, but that was not a battle. It was the end of a silent war that went on for years. By the time we reach the end, our hearts turned into a desert.”

  She tips her gaze to her phone and stares vacantly for a moment before she lifts her eyes, her expression shifting.

  “Anyway, when it all ended, I faced a change I wasn’t prepared for. I had to start all over again, to reinvent myself, and meet new people. To interact. We all do it when we go through the aftermath of a long-term commitment, and we all fear it. And for good reasons. It wasn’t easy. There were a few new disappointments here and there. Not much has changed when it comes to men and women. At first, I was disheartened and then furious and regretful. And then, one day I realized that I had a huge advantage. I was no longer blind like I used to be. I had more experience than most people I’d known. And more importantly, I knew who I was and what I wanted. Above all, I knew how to spot an opportunity, and I no longer had to make the mistakes that I once made. While I’m still annoyed and disappointed from time to time, I use every single opportunity that life offers me to better my living. I know how precious those chances are. That’s why I understand what happened to you today. Had the incident happened years back, when I was someone else, you would’ve gotten fired before you had the chance to pick up your phone from the floor. I understand what it was for you, but you risked your job for something that was not real. Go out there, and find something real to risk everything for. Or better yet, don’t see it as a risk. Just learn how to spot an opportunity, and live that moment fully for as long as it lasts. Don’t say no to anything that heart says yes to. It’s a waste of time and heart. Believe it or not, some people cross paths with us only once. Find those real people, invite them into your life, love them if they love you back and never think about the end. The end comes whether we want it or not, but the memories you get stay with you forever.”

  7

  EVE

  “It’s too much,” I argue.

  “I insist,” Rain says categorically.

  Torn, I plop on the sofa.

  A few moments of silence pass by as I mull over her words.

  “I can’t do it... I can’t accept money for something that is so personal.”

  “Consider it a gift card.”

  “A gift card for escort services?” I ask, smiling.

  “A gift card for an extraordinary experience,” Rain says, humor threading through her voice.

  “No, no. There’s no way I can accept it. It’s a lot of money.”

  “These are the best male escorts in Manhattan. They are not even advertising their business, and they are fully booked. They are that good.”

  “Their typical client has more money than me. Besides, the service quality is not my problem. My first experience was great.”

  “I know. But you need someone to sweep you off your feet, someone you don’t even think about not sharing your bed with because he is too much of a boyfriend experience. Trust me. These escorts are hardly boyfriend experience, and they will make you feel just right.”

  “It’s a lot.”

  “It’s a lot of good time too. Besides, the only way you can become part of their selective clientele is if someone recommends you.”

  “That’s you.”

  “Yes. All you need is to set up an account with the club, make a deposit, and the money gets deducted as you go.”

  I start laughing.

  “Shit, Rain. This sounds like an expensive business proposition.”

  “And it’s worth every penny.”

  “I have some money.”

  “I don’t want you to use your money. Please let me do that for you.”

  The silence stretches between us as I dwell over her proposal.

  “If you don’t accept my money, I’m going to tell James and he is not going to take no for an answer, so you better take it, girlie.”

  I chuckle again.

  “No, fucking way.”

  “Yes. Way.”

  “You are really serious about this?”

  “I sure am. Just say the word, and I’ll do it.”

  “Okay... Listen,” I say as I glance out the window.

  It rains again, beads of water lining the glass.

  “Let’s do this,” I say, shifting my focus back to her. “I’ll go with this agency, or club or whatever it is, and I’ll use my money first, and then, if I need more, we’ll talk about your gift again.”

  Silence grows at the other end.

  “Are you sure you’re going to do it?”

  “Yes, I’m sure,” I say softly.

  “Okay.”

  “Cool. How are things with you otherwise?” I ask, anxious to move away from the topic.

  “Good,” she says enthusiastically.

  She pauses for a moment.

  “Life is good. I’ll have my book release party in a few weeks.”

  “James?”

  “He’s, um...”

  A grin flashes through her voice.

  “He’s everything,” she says, emotion dripping in her tone. “Things are good. The business is doing well. Everybody's home. Thea and Ed have their home ready for the twins. I can’t wait, to be honest. She’s so sweet and Ed... Oh. Sometimes, I don’t even recognize him. He’s so happy. They both are. And it’s great to have them all back home.”

  Her words paint a picture for me that makes my heart clench. As I listen to her, I feel happy, and also nostalgic, and I remember my musings from only a few days ago.

  Perhaps it was our fate to end up away from each other.

  “Downtown looks good too, and the kids are in school. Life is animated as it used to be. I think you’d love it here.”

  I stay silent for a moment.

  “My place is no longer there.”

  “It may be, but never say never. I never thought that I’d end up here either.”

  “You fell for James Sexton... I’m sure the odds were against you leaving that place right from the beginning.”


  She giggles amused.

  “We could’ve ended up in New York.”

  “Yeah. That’s true.”

  “Anyway... It’s great here,” she says, her voice soft and melancholic. “It’s a great place to make memories.”

  I understand what she’s telling me, and briefly, I grapple with that loneliness again, as if I’m stranded far from where my life should be.

  I slap the thought away.

  “Okay. I need to go now,” I say with a different voice, tearing my eyes away from the window. “Send me the information as soon as you can. I want to book someone this coming week,” I add, suddenly rushed.

  “I love the sound of that,” she says with a different voice as well before we hang up.

  A few moments later, I grab my robe, shed my clothes, and enter the shower.

  It’s later in the evening, when I find myself back in my living room, my phone and tablet nearby, and the information that she promised me flashes on my screen.

  I click the link and access the contact information.

  A password allows me to log in on the private website. I find general information about the men in their profiles, each name accompanied by a few pictures. Most escorts do not reveal their faces, but the description gives me a pretty good idea on their physical characteristics.

  “Okay. This doesn’t help me much.”

  I read all the profiles before I start to sort them based on their reviews and my preferences. I narrow my search results to a couple of men who seem to be very popular.

  The reviews are raving about them.

  Without dwelling much, I pick one. Dark-haired, athletic. Sounds good.

  ‘Never disappoints’ one review says.

  ‘I’ll be back’ says another one.

  ‘He rocked my world’ Lindsay chimes.

  ‘He will keep you up all night,’ Cindy adds.

  You’re my man, I muse.

  Christian.

  Perfect. I love his name too.

  I fill out the form with my information and submit my request. I have no idea if the man is available, or when.

  Filled with jitters, I make sure my message went through.

  A sigh of relief leaves my chest at once. This thing alone–– the fact that I convinced myself to hire an escort again is a huge accomplishment.