by L. L. Ash
Maybe if I got another chance with her, I’d try and be more charming. Or maybe she liked the uncharming son of a bitch she'd met. Who knew?
I rolled over in bed and clutched my pillow to my chest as I heaved out a sigh.
Guess there’s no point in wondering if she’ll call. If she did, great, if not, I had a lot of other clients that wanted my time, and I didn’t have much time to spend daydreaming about just one.
“Babushka!” I called into the home I grew up in, looking around for my grandmother.
I heard her distinct rattle in Russian coming from the back of the apartment. Inside she was at the table in the kitchen, playing cards with another old woman who lived in the neighborhood.
They both turn to me as I entered, slipping my shoes off and putting my key to the apartment back into my pocket.
Cigarette smoke filled my lungs the moment I closed the door. She must have been smoking her first pack of the day.
“Ah! Kot!” my grandmother burst up from her chair and came to give me a big hug.
“I left the groceries by the door,” I told her, giving her ashy air kisses, as was our custom.
She gave loud smacks near my ears before taking my face in her hands and squeezing.
“Come! I make you snack,” she patted me on the shoulder and motioned for her friend to come.
Both women moved to the kitchen as I brought in the rest of the groceries, putting them on the chipped countertops.
Within five minutes, there was a feast prepared for my ‘snack’ that I wasn’t even hungry for, but I’d eat. I’d eat because my grandma was everything to me, and I would make myself sick just to see her smile.
The women whirled up even more food as I took a few bites of some pashtet on crackers as Grandma whipped up some blini with cold chicken.
“Babushka, stop worrying about me, I eat well,” I told her with a grin.
She just scoffed.
“Look at you!” she replied in Russian. “Not any fat on your bones! Just muscle! Fat is good for you, kot!”
“Da, da, da,” I nodded, having heard the spiel before.
Well, I heard it every Sunday when I visited and brought groceries.
“I have to keep fit for my job, Babushka!”
“I chto!” she waved her hand around. “I don’t care. My baby needs to stay healthy.”
It was an uphill battle. Always had been and it probably always would be.
So as always, I just hugged my grandma again and ate.
She wouldn’t stop making food until my belly was literally bulging with carbs and beer, eventually satisfied that I was now taken care of.
“Now, you go relax and I will get back to my game,” she said to me as she and her friend go back to their game.
“Nyet, I have to go home.”
She clicked her tongue at me before hugging me again.
“Take care. Eat well.”
“Da, lyublyu tebya,” I kissed her on the cheek and told her to call if she needed anything.
She nodded and saw me out before going back to her game.
I stood outside the house, empty handed and decide to walk.
It was rather warm still, so I took my jeans and t-shirt on a walk back to the subway which would practically take me home.
A few people saw me walking, saw the fancy-ass watch on my wrist and the sexy shoes on my feet. They just don’t know me. Most walked by without saying anything, minding their own damn business, until a young punk came up to me, thinking he was the shit and demanding my watch.
I rolled my eyes at him as he pulled a knife.
“Do you have any idea where you are, boy?” I ask him with a scowl.
“This is my hood,” he puckered up his lips like he was serious or something.
It just made me want to laugh.
“Go talk to Vishka.” I sighed at him, looking over at the buddy that had been following him around, but wasn’t actively participating in the ill-conceived robbery.
I heard the kid gasp a breath in as his knife started to shake.
“Da, you know Vishka, don’t you?” I decided to wink at him, just to piss him off.
He scrunched up his face in anger, as if trying to decide if I was bluffing or not.
“Pizduy otsyuda!” another male voice came from around the corner and the kid bolts.
Looking over at the new addition, I saw an old friend I hadn’t seen in a few years.
“Sergei!” he called over to me and put out his hand, giving me an enthusiastic handshake.
“Iev,” I gripped his hand back, happy to see him.
“What brings you here?” he asked, looking around me as if for a reason I was walking down my hometown streets.
“Moya Babushka,” I answered in Russian, then switched to English since that’s how he was speaking. “Making sure she has everything she needs.”
He nods approvingly.
“Good man,” he patted my shoulder and looked the opposite way down the street. “You should come meet my wife!”
Oh shit…
So there were two options.
Option one, I offend the fuck out of him by saying no,
Or option two, I offend his wife by not bringing a gift.
But I had no gift, so what the fuck?
“You’re married?” I said instead, hoping to change the subject.
His eyes rolled into the back of his head.
“A sexy, sexy woman,” he shook his head back and forth, as if he’s still unbelieving that he had such an attractive wife.
Now I was curious.
“Come!” he waved me over and I followed him down another road of complexes until we get to his house, a small standalone amidst a series of other buildings.
I saw a large bush of flowers by one of the complexes and quickly nabbed one, hoping it would pass as a pisspoor gift to his new wife.
We went inside the house where I heard a baby fussing and a woman murmuring in Russian to the infant.
Iev called out to his wife who came to the door looking surprised.
“Natasha, my old friend, Sergei,” he introduced me and I nodded, handing her the flower.
Iev looked impressed at the impromptu gift and nodded approvingly as I told her how glad I was to meet her.
“Come inside!” she said, handing the baby to Iev. “I am making lunch!”
Oh, fuck me...
Before I realized what was going on, my shoes were off and I was at their table, drinking instead of eating.
Evidently I wanted a hangover to wake up to.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
It was past three before I got myself out of there, still a bit tipsy from the seven shots me and Iev did to celebrate seeing each other again. I complimented their house, their baby, and elbowed Iev in the ribs to tell him his wife was hot. Which she was.
He was proud as a fucking rooster, chest puffed out at what he’d accomplished for himself.
He even managed to get pretty clean as far as I could see. He still worked for the Russians, but he worked the front house for one of their businesses. Keeping his nose clean for the most part.
Hell, I was proud of him, too.
The most awkward part was when his wife asked what I did for a living, which Iev knew but didn't know how to tell his wife my secret.
So I just told her I sold shit in Manhattan to rich women.
They laughed at that and Iev looked relieved that I’d defused that without bringing his wife into my dirty business.
By the time I was on the subway home, I was overfull, blurry with alcohol and tired from the long day I'd had.
When I got home, I went into my second bedroom that I used for a small gym and worked off some of the booze and food before going to bed early.
Chapter Five
Adele
I was standing at the door of my office, periodically peeking out until I saw Rachel passing by towards her own office.
“Rachel!” I called almost frantically.
&n
bsp; She turned to me and smiled, redirecting her path toward me.
“Come inside,” I told her and she looked all kinds of curious about why I was practically sweating in my black pencil skirt and sleeveless blouse.
“Ok, what happened to you?” she looked me up and down, seeing how disheveled my appearance was.
“I-I called him. I called Serge,” I told her in a rush.
Her mouth gaped open and she flung her hands up to cover it.
“You did?” she shrieked.
“Hush! Yes I did. We had dinner on Saturday night.”
Her eyes widened.
“He’s so good, isn’t he? Best lay I’ve ever had.”
“Oh my God, Rach, we didn’t sleep together. And don't say it like that. Nasty!”
Now she looked confused.
“You hired an escort and didn’t sleep with him?”
Rolling my eyes up with a prayer for patience, I sighed before responding.
“It was a date. Kind of to...meet him. He understood that immediately. He even paid for my dinner.”
She looked impressed.
“Wow, Ad. I’m kind of proud of you for hiring him then making him pay.”
“I didn’t! I offered but he wouldn’t let me pay. He’s...”
“Sexy? Beastly? Bossy? Hot as sin?”
All yes, but not the word I was looking for.
“Strange,” I finally blurted out.
“Stange? Did you see him? Did you see those eyes and that hair and that bone structure? And oh my God… His ass and...”
“Hush!” I slapped a hand over her mouth. “I need your advice.”
“Ok, here it is. Nail him. Nail him hard until he rattles your brain so hard you don’t remember any of the bad bones you’ve had before.”
“I meant I need your advice on whether I should see him or not. Like as a client.”
“Need I repeat my last sentences?” she widened her eyes at me like I was an idiot.
“I mean for his boyfriend experience. Not just as a hooker, but like a pretend boyfriend.”
Her jaw dropped.
“That’s a thing? Why didn’t I know about this? I’d have brought him home to meet the family last Christmas to get my mother off my ass about settling down with a ‘good boy’!”
“Please, be serious for one minute, Rach,” I sighed, losing hope that she’d be of any help.
Finally, she calmed and looked me in the eye.
“What does your gut say?” she asked me eventually
“It says holy hell, yes,” I admitted.
“And what does you brain say?”
“It’s been telling me I’m an idiot all weekend for not sleeping with him.”
She throws her arms up.
“What are you waiting for, than?”
“I just… I’ll be a criminal!” I whisper harshly.
“Babe, that boy has connections somewhere. One girl tried to leak stuff cause she fell in love with him and he made it disappear so fast. I heard about it from the girl that introduced me to him. He’s a professional. Nobody’s going to know, and nobody will find out. See him once or twice, or see him for a while. Get that boyfriend experience while you mourn your mom. He’ll be there for you, Ad.”
“Because I pay him to be there for me.”
“We all pay something in a relationship, Adele.”
Wow. Touché.
My stomach started to flutter at the idea of calling him again.
“He’s kind of perfect for you, Ad. Like, what I know of him, anyway. He’ll pull you out of your funk and I think it’ll be good for you. He’ll be worth the money.”
“Money’s not the problem,” I shrugged.
Being the owner and main stockholder of my very own shopping network on TV, I did very well for myself. I could live like a queen for the rest of my life and never work again if I wanted, but I loved my job.
But maybe a vacation would be nice…
“Do it,” she said with a grin, already seeing how I was weakening.
She bounced over to my cell phone and let herself into it, knowing my passcode, before scrolling.
“It’s ringing,” she quickly thrust the phone at me and let herself out, closing the door behind her with a gentle click.
“Adele,” his voice burned through the line straight into my ear, sending heat down through me with the one utterance of my name.
I gulped.
“Hi Serge.”
“I’ll admit, I wasn’t sure I'd hear from you again. I wasn’t myself on our date last Saturday.”
“You were just fine,” I assured him. “I just wasn’t sure if I’m actually ready to do this.”
He hummed but didn’t say anything else.
So it was silent on the line instead.
“Have you decided, then?” he asked after the brutally awkward silence.
“I want the boyfriend experience,” I said finally, just getting it all out there. “I think...I think you’d be good for me right now.”
“Ok,” he agreed. “I’ve got an NDA I need you to sign, and I’m happy to sign one for you if you’d like.”
Oh shit! I didn’t even think of that!
“Uh, yeah. Let me just...talk to my...lawyer.”
He huffed a laugh.
“Tell you what. I’ll send you a doc of mine and you can just switch the names and add what you want.”
“Oh thank God...” I breathed relief.
My personal lawyer was also one of my mother’s closest friends. She would kill me for doing this.
“Text me your email and I’ll have my lawyer send it over. Ok?”
His lawyer? Did he need a lawyer?
“Also, I require monthly STD checks with any of the women I see on a regular basis. I have it done just as often and I can send you the doctor reports if you’d like.”
Oh wow. He had thought of everything.
Of course he did. It’s his business.
“Y-yeah. I’ll get an appointment today.”
“Thank you, Adele. Can I do anything else for you?”
“Uh..nope. I think you about covered it all. Which is strangely disturbing and relieving at the same time.”
“I know what I’m doing,” he chuckled over the line and it sounded just like silk felt, grazing over my eardrums.
“I can see that. Send the papers and I’ll look them over.”
“As you wish,” he said and hung up.
I quickly typed my personal email into the phone and sent it over before collapsing in my chair, feeling excited.
Pushing out all thoughts of Serge until I saw him again, I headed out from my little office at the studio, to check on the stage.
Evidently a commercial was going because all hell was breaking loose as makeup artists were doing touch ups on the sales associates on stage along with the guest salesperson who was there to show their product.
Ryan came up to me, my favorite daytime studio producer on the front lines, making sure everything was running smoothly.
“I just can’t seem to get rid of you,” he smiled at me, speaking in his regular voice, which was kind of strange hearing since we were almost always whispering around each other.
“You’ll never get rid of me, Ryan,” I laughed, still feeling giddy about my phone call with Serge. “This place is my home.”
“I wouldn’t want to get rid of you anyway,” he winked. “You’re too pretty to let go of. Besides, you liven things up every time you hang out with us little people.”
Rolling my eyes at his cheesy compliment, I moved with him over to the wall of monitors where we got a view of every angle. Basically it was a big version of what I had on one of my monitors in my office downtown.
“How’re things going?” I asked, putting a hand on the big, circular desk as I leaned down while Ryan began to call out the countdown to going live again.
When he gave the silent Two-One-Go, he turned back to me and said in the whisper I was used to, “Good. Jennifer has a nasty
cough though. She called in this morning but I got Peter to take her slot so we’re good. You know I have this all handled.”
“I know,” I nodded. “I hired you for a reason. Ryan. You’re very good at what you do. Almost as good as I am at your job.”
Giving a low chuckle, he bumped his shoulder against mine.
“You’re a natural at this, Adele. That’s a given. I’m just glad you still like to be here with us. It seems like every other person who managed to find their way onto the board just ignores our existence as they sit in their fancy high-rise offices and rake in the money.”
He wasn’t wrong.
“No, this is where I belong. The fancy office is nice, but it isn’t this. This is the world.”
“Well, since you’re more qualified than me, why don’t you take over your old job for a little while? I’ll pretend to be your intern and you can take advantage of me in your office.”
The guy was insufferable with his teasing jokes, but he also made me laugh.
“Scoot over, intern,” I grinned, bumping him with my hip to move so I could take his place in front of the monitors, reliving the good ol’ days of when I practically lived in the studio for those first years as we built the brand.
This was the life!
Chapter Six
Adele
We were going on our first real date.
Rachel looked over the NDA with me and helped me put mine together, and between the two of us, we felt good about it. Serge’s original document was pretty solid so I only made minor changes.
A contract came a little later, mostly just a list of rules, like I had to pay either before by wire or on the date with cash before I or he left. Five thousand a date, which guaranteed me somewhere around ten to twelve hours of his time. Unlimited talk, unlimited cuddles, and unlimited sex while I had him.
The idea of paying someone for sex still bothered me, and even Rachel couldn’t get me out of my own head on that one. But it didn’t change the fact that I was really looking forward to my date with him, and spent a good part of the evening on my hair and makeup, searching for the perfect dress and arranging my hair into loose, dark waves that brushed across my shoulders as I moved.
My makeup was natural-looking with a dark liner and fake lashes.