We shared a moment at the pool and at the bar just two days ago. And today, it is as if I am invisible, as if I fabricated the whole thing.
“Ladies. Come,” Dominic urges from his office, standing behind his huge desk.
I fidget with my dress and walk toward the opened door. Once inside, I marvel at the size of the office. Like outside in the main sitting area, large floor-to-ceiling windows outline the back of the room. Gray insulated drapes adorn the windows, most likely controlled by a remote control. The fabric looks rich, and I resist the urge to walk over and touch them. The polished white tiled floor and spiraling metal artwork make the room feel comfortable with a homey atmosphere.
“You must be Angela McFee.” The smile helps me relax my neck for the first time, realizing that all of my tension is being secured by the muscles there. “Claire raves about you.”
I force a small smile as I reach out to shake his hand. Mine gets lost in his big grasp. I watch as he discreetly motions toward the receptionist. The door closes with a click. We are alone.
“Sit. Please.” Dominic points to an upholstered office chair in front of his desk. “Angela, I—”
“Angie,” I correct, interrupting his sentence. “Please. Sorry, sir, I mean Mr. Crawford.”
His laugh is nearly contagious, though I remain pensive and quiet. “Angie,” he tests the sound on his tongue. I am mortified that I made the unnecessary correction. “I like you.”
Um, okay. That’s a good thing, I suppose.
“What brings you here today?”
“I need a job. Claire suggested that I try this out. I was at the mixer event.” I rummage quickly through my bag, pulling out the folded copy of the NDA. I place it on his desk. “I signed the NDA.”
Dominic leans back in his chair, never moving his eyes off me. “Here at Entice Escort Agency, we try to fulfill every type of man’s needs. And I have a good feeling that you are just what the agency is missing.”
My face warms, and my hands fidget with the lace on my cotton countryesque dress. My eyes move everywhere but to Dominic’s. If I don’t look at him directly, maybe he can’t see me.
He clears his throat, bringing me back to the present. “Of course, the needs are in a platonic manner. You know, like renting a friend.” He waves his hand in the air in gesture to his comment. “Ultimately, we are an escort service, and our business model is to cater to the most exclusive clientele in the Portland area. I see that Claire informed you to show up natural and that we will doll you up for the photo shoot.”
Whoa, slow down, please!
“Assuming that you would like to be a part of the agency, we need to build an online profile for you that our customers can explore. Men are visual by nature.” He gives a sheepish grin, while opening a drawer in his desk to pull out a file folder. Opening it, he scans the document inside. “I see here that you got a nice initial response from the mixer.”
I shift in my seat. What does he have, a dossier started on me already? They don’t waste time here, that’s for sure.
He closes the folder, cupping his hands on the smooth surface of his desk. “I have already received requests for you via email.”
“Oh.” I do not even recognize my own voice.
“There are rules in the club, Angie, for all members. All of our male clients have been given a thorough background check, subjected to a physical done by a prestigious health professional, and have no documented criminal records. Mandatory health checks are done every three months to ensure overall well-being.”
I relax my shoulders a bit at Dominic’s comforting words and try to quell the fear that Tracy’s words brought about potential coercion.
“The safety of our girls is our first priority.” Dominic analyzes my face for a moment before continuing. “Here is the initial consent form.” He hands me a file folder off the corner of his desk. I place it in my lap. “Of course, there’s the assumption that the doctor’s report will show that you are healthy.”
Hold up, this is the part I do not understand. “If I’m not having any physical relations with these clients, why would it matter if I’m healthy or not?”
“Well, Angie. As you meet some of the men, you will learn that they are nauseatingly wealthy. I understand that we haven’t talked about salary yet for employment. Just know that you will be well compensated for your services—platonic as they are.”
That does not answer the question!
His hand slices back and forth through the air. “We can’t keep you from making free will decisions after duty hours,” Dominic clarifies, a hint of mischievousness present in his dancing eyes. “As a precautionary measure, we just ensure all clients that we have at least attempted to verify legal age, do a background check, as well as monitor for any major health concerns.” He takes a sip of his coffee from his mug on his desk, showing me a glimpse of a large gold ring he wears on his middle finger of his right hand. “Angie, I know you are a bit skeptical of this process.” He straightens his ring to face in the correct direction.
Damn straight.
I swallow uncomfortably, trying to shake the nervousness down into the pit of my stomach. Is this high-class prostitution? What am I getting myself into?
“Don’t you have to interview me first?” I ask stupidly.
He gives me an unreadable stare. “I am. Right now.”