To be honest, Margaux’s not that bad. The middle-aged woman used to be an escort herself, so she’s always been a good resource for advice when I’ve needed it. But still, why is she calling? I don’t have any appointments today, so it can’t be about that. Well, maybe it’s good that she’s pinging me now because I have big news of my own to deliver. It’s now or never, isn’t it?
As a result, I take a deep breath, steeling myself. I answer the call, and the image of Margaux sitting in her office fills the screen, her sharp brown bob perfect. I open my mouth, prepared to tell my manager that I want to quit, but she speaks before I have a chance.
“Patty, love,” she says, never one to waste time on greetings, “there’s a new client who’s interested in you.”
“In me?” I ask in a wry tone. There were some clients who have specifically requested me in the past, and I think it’s because I have meat on my bones. Not everyone wants a thin Barbie-doll type, especially when it comes to fun in bed.
Then, Margaux flips her hair and shrugs a bit, her burgundy-colored lips forming a thin smile. “Well, not exactly. He requested someone ‘respectable’ as a date, and you immediately popped into my mind.”
“Respectable?” I frown. “What the does that even mean?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know for sure, but usually it means a woman who will look appropriate at a business dinner. He may have colleagues in the area that he wants to impress.”
I purse my lips. I’ve played the part of the business date before, but it’s never a great time. Nine times out of ten, it’s just a dick-measuring contest between a bunch of dudes. I have to sit in silence while a table of drunk, overbearing, middle-aged men talk over each other, slapping their knees while pretending to be Masters of the Universe. Then, at the end of the night, there’s quick, lackluster sex at a nearby hotel, and most of the time, these guys are really small and disappointing. I’d rather not go through that again.
Margaux must sense the displeasure in my expression because she gives me a persuasive smile. “Listen, it’s not that bad. I know you’ve been busy lately, but the client is offering to pay triple the going rate for the right girl.”
“Triple?” I ask skeptically. “But does he know how much my regular rate is?”
My manager nods.
“Yes, we told him, but it’s not a problem. He didn’t even blink, to be honest. So what do you think? Will you do it?”
I bite my lip, weighing my options, before finally sighing. What’s the harm of one last date so long as I’m paid handsomely for my time? “Fine, yes, I guess so. I’ll take it.”
“Excellent.” Margaux gives me a little wink. “You won’t regret it, Patty.”
We hang up, and I lower my phone with another sigh. I switch off my keyboard and turn away from it with slumped shoulders. Margaux says I won’t regret this, but my heart weighs heavy in my chest. I really let myself down. I was determined to quit for good, but instead I compromised my own values for what? For money, and it feels terrible.
Objectively, I know that it’s smarter for me to build up more financial cushioning before I try recording a new EP, but I can’t help but wonder if this isn’t the first of many failures yet to come. Will I fold every time Margaux comes to me with a high-paying gig? Will I end up becoming like my manager, an old harlot who manages younger girls and makes commissions off of their conquests?
Sadness makes a tear stream down my cheek, and it drops off my chin to plop on my keyboard. Will I ever be able to leave this life behind? I hope so, but only time will tell.
2
Luke
I’m meeting my date at the Soho Grand, a luxury hotel in downtown NYC after I get off work. It’s a great boutique hotel, and one of the most discreet in the city. After all, I’m not exactly on a date date. I’m looking for an escort, and hopefully, this one will deliver.
After all, I have a stalker, and hopefully by hiring a girlfriend, I’ll get Jocelyn off my back. As a wealthy man with a public profile, it’s not that uncommon to have a stalker, but Jocelyn’s taken it to the next level. Just today, I saw her hanging around on the sidewalk outside our company headquarters. She was pretending to eat an ice cream, but I know the truth: she was clearly hoping to catch me. Fortunately, I managed to get in my vehicle sight unseen, basically fleeing the aggressive woman.
It’s sad. That was almost an hour ago, but I’m still feeling the lasting effects of adrenaline flowing through my veins. Seeing Jocelyn always makes my skin crawl because she’s more than annoying at this point; she’s off the reservation, and the restraining order I took out against her isn’t doing any good.