“Ugh. I hate you right now. It’s so damn cold back home, I have to run on my treadmill.” I wait for what’s to come next out of his mouth, because it always does.
“Bitch, please. You live in a sky rise penthouse in downtown Chicago. You never run outside. Who the hell are do you think you’re talking to?” His raspy voice exhales loudly.
“I’ll have you know, I signed up for a 5K this spring. Which will be outside, dickhead.”
“I do have a dick, Lucia, and it does have a head,” he shouts into the phone.
“I’m not even going to touch that one, Carl.” We both laugh.
“I’m assuming your accommodations are up to par?” he asks, knowing damn well they are.
“Yes, thank you, but that’s not why I’m calling. I miss you. I thought maybe since I’m here we could meet up before I leave.”
He falters before responding. My shoulders sag, knowing his answer before it leaves his mouth. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I have to leave tonight for a business trip. You know I love you.”
I do know he loves me. I have friends back home, but no one compares to the relationship I have with Carl. We understand each other better than anyone else. We’ve never judged the other’s lifestyle, the things we do, or the people we see. Carl’s father disowned him when he told him he was gay. His mother tried to reason with his father, but he wouldn’t listen. It’s been over twelve years since Carl has spoken to his father. It’s heartless for a parent to not love their child and accept them for who they are. I think of my parents again. How detached I keep them from the second life I lead. There isn’t a doubt in my mind they wouldn’t understand. They might be disappointed in me, but I know they would never cut me out of their lives.
“Carl,” I say with eagerness. “You have to promise me you’ll come and see me soon. You know I won’t be back here for god knows how long.”
“I promise, Lucia. I really am sorry, but I have to go when work calls me. I’ve been trying to get this company to let my firm take over every aspect of their accounting, not just the payroll, for some time now.” He does really sound saddened that we can’t get together.
“It’s alright,” I say. “And Carl, thank you again for everything you do for me. I’m really looking forward to this weekend with Heath.”
“Oh, Lucia. I believe you are in for a real treat with him tonight. I only wish it was me spending the night with him and not you,” he jokes, although knowing him, he more than likely means it.
“I have to go, my massage awaits. I love you. Be safe.”
“Always am. Love you more,” he replies.
I sigh deeply, leaning my head back on the cool black leather couch. My eyes skim across the stunning Savannah historical district out the window. The little I saw of the city on my ride from the airport left me breathless, to say the least. I need a break. I desperately need to see my family and Carl. As I reach forward, taking the last sip of my coffee, I vow to myself, I will schedule a trip to see my parents as well as to see Carl as soon as I get home. Carl would love for a vacation – just the two of us in the Caribbean. Right now, though it’s all about me and all about my needs. I grab my keycard, slide it into my purse, and slip my feel into the only pair of tennis shoes I own. It’s time to get ready for my date.
FOUR
The date preparation was simply divine and now that I am back in my room, I have to say, I’m a bit nervous for the jewelry portion of the evening. I don’t get paid in money, right? Yet, this is the part of the whole process I might feel slightly guilty about because it is diamonds or emeralds or whatever the guy has a fancy for that I am paid in. All my keepsake jewelry is kept in a custom made safe in my dressing room at home. It opens up like a jewelry box and you have to be wearing a pair of shades to take it in at first glance. It’s fucking off the charts stimulating.
Jewelry is my one deal breaker. I find that once the guy has seen a few photos of me and talked with me over the phone the night before, he gets a sense of what he likes on me. I pray they will pick things I’ll wear again. I know the few fuckers that had their secretaries pick the jewelry for them. They were the same few I had to teach to give proper oral.
A knock comes to the door just as I am about to pull the baby blue Valentino off the rod of dresses for me to choose from. I look at the door dumbstruck. The jewelry is here. Oh…fuck. I close my eyes tight and start to chant. “You are not a whore. You like pretty things. You are not a whore. You like pretty things.”
My eyes start to tear up and I shake my head a bit to get my stupid conscience under control. Opening the door, I see an older man in a suit with two women behind him.
Oh fuck, I think to myself. This piece is going to be fucking expensive.
I don’t have a minimum purchase price for their staying with me. I only ask that whatever they choose to give me, the stones are genuine. They can get me a small half carat diamond necklace from Kay Jewelers for ninety nine bucks if they desire. As long as the stones are real, it’s all that matters.
By the look of the three people with tight smiling faces at my suite door, I have a feeling Heath did not go to Kay Jewelers.
“Ms. Westwood, may we come in?”
I don’t remember much after that question. I think I may have fainted. The string of diamonds that now sit on my ankle tells me a little bit about Heath. I am going to be in for some serious kink tonight if he wants to admire his prize on my foot.
I’m ready and waiting. He’s not late, but for the first time, I’m early. That almost never happens, because I get fickle with my hair, but from the looks of the dress and jewels he picked for me, I won’t have to worry much about what my hair looks like. I leave it down and slightly curled. It’s classy and I feel beautiful.
The clock reads six and he should have gotten here hours ago. The hotel arranged for a separate room for him to get ready in, and while we are out for dinner, they will bring his things in for him. Butterflies begin fluttering in my stomach and the knowledge that everything is just as it is supposed to be settles into my brain. I am beyond excited for another two days of sex and romance.
The knock comes exactly at six-thirty and I take a deep breath. Holding my head up high, I make sure my cleavage is showing but not to a ridiculous level. I am wearing a very expensive anklet for a reason. If I were a hooker, the money left on the dresser at the end of the night would say everything. Not me. I’m an unconventional escort that enjoys noncommittal sex and lots of lavish things.
The breath leaves my stiffened chest when I open the door to find Heath Landon standing on the other side. He is…well, I am speechless as to what he is. For one thing, he isn’t my type, per se, because he is a man in a category all by himself. Tall with blazing eyes and a pretty smile. Wow. I might be shaking a bit, which is not really normal for me at all.
“Lucia,” he growls out, as he peruses my body from bottom to top. “You are a masterpiece in red. Somehow I knew you would choose the red dress.”
The moment I laid my eyes on this dress, I knew it was the one. With the low cut neckline and the open back, I felt drawn to it. He reaches out to take hold of my hand, gracefully lifting it to place a tender kiss in the center. He’s charming.
“Heath.” My voice feels like it slipped from my mouth. He’s a vision in his black suit, crisp white shirt, and black tie.
“Shall we?” He places my arm through his.