The embarrassment that colors my cheeks is so sudden it almost burns. I would have imagined anything else but this. For a while now, I’ve learned to manage the shame of the stigma that surrounds this choice I’ve made. I have found justifications, excuses, and alibi to hide behind, but nothing has prepared me for the discomfort of being discovered by someone I consider a friend.
When he sees that I don’t answer, he adds, “It’s no big deal. What you do in your free time is not my business. It’s just that I thought it was a secret you wanted to keep, and I found out…and then felt guilty about it.”
I smile and finally meet his gaze. Only Evan can feel guilty about discovering something by chance. On one hand, I’m glad it was him who came across this information because I know he won’t talk about it with anyone. On the other hand, I want to die because, although we’re friends, he’s still my boss, and you don’t want your employer to know something like that about you.
“I didn’t tell anyone. It’s not something you brag about.”
Evan shrugs and smiles at me. “It’s not even something to be ashamed of.”
This time, I’m the one lowering my gaze. “It’s something that people might lose their respect for me over.”
Evan reaches out his hand and angles my face toward his, his gray eyes study me carefully and he frowns. “If a person loses respect for you because of this, they don’t deserve to be your friend.”
His words strike a chord and surprise me. I know enough about Evan to see that he doesn’t judge people by their life choices, but mine is controversial enough that I have to doubt that even he finds it completely admissible. Not judging the girls you pay to have sex with and accepting that your friend and employee lives a similar life are two very different things.
“If it makes you feel better, I use an escort service,” he confesses with a bit of embarrassment.
“I know.” I put a hand over my mouth as soon as the words leave my lips.
He widens his eyes, surprised. “You know?”
I nod. “I found out when I was helping with your business expenses. I recognized the ‘wellness’ agency you pay from time to time. It was the same agency I considered before joining the sugar daddy website.”
Evan weighs my words for a while, then looks at me seriously. “May I ask you why you considered becoming an escort?”
“I’m one hundred and eighty thousand dollars in debt for my college tuition. When I was accepted at NYU, first for my bachelor’s degree and then for my master’s, I applied for a scholarship, but I didn’t get it. If I had told my mother, she would have taken on another mortgage to help me, so I decided to lie to her, telling her I got the scholarship, and applied for a student loan instead. The time has come to repay it, but between the expenses of living in Manhattan and the standard of living that this work entails, I struggle to find the money. It’s not like I can come to work dressed like a runaway, with messed-up hair or unmanicured nails. This industry doesn’t forgive and doesn’t accept people who are nothing less than perfect,” I confess for the first time out loud.
Not even Iris knows about the extent of my debts or my struggle to make it to the end of the month. If she did, she would insist on giving me back all the money I’ve lent her over the years, and I don’t want that. I gave her that money, knowing she could never give it back to me, and it was fine with me. I’ve never regretted it.
Evan seems to think about it for a while, worry running across his face, and possibly even guilt. “We don’t pay you enough to support yourself. You should have told us.”
“No, Evan. I’m paid more than generously to be an assistant. I weighed the pros and cons when I took out that loan. It won’t be like this forever. Once I’ve paid it back, I’ll stop using that website.” This is why I don’t tell anyone. I don’t want to see the pity on their faces.
“I’ll give you the money you need,” he blurts out.
I look at him, stunned, until his words settle in my chest like poured concrete. “No, Evan. I didn’t tell you this so you’d open your wallet and solve my problems. I can deal with it, and I don’t need your help. Whether I pay back the bank or you, it’s still my debt. But thank you for your offer.” The tightness that grips my chest is awful. I can’t stand when people pity me, and coming from Evan, it’s even worse.
I’m trying to carve out space in this industry to make a name for myself, and if Evan, a person I respect enormously, sees me as too weak to take care of myself, it annoys me. I want to one day go from being his assistant to being his colleague, a professional who can swim in the tank with the biggest sharks without being intimidated.
He seems almost offended by my refusal. “Would you rather sleep with strangers than accept my help?”
“No, Evan. I’m just saying that transferring debt from a bank to you won’t change how I find that money. And it’s none of your business who I have sex with,” I retort.
He frowns and tightens his jaw, struggling to hide the disappointment. “You wouldn’t have to give me that money back. I’m not a loan shark.”
“I don’t want your charity, Evan. I have a debt, and I intend to repay it. If I wanted to be swimming in money, I would marry Theodore and solve all my problems.” I’m aware that I’ve just violated the confidential agreement the sugar daddy site made me sign. Evan’s the only one who can get under my skin enough to make me go against my morals. I’d like to punch him for that.
“It’s not charity; it’s helping a friend,” he says unbelievingly.
“Have you ever considered that it’s humiliating for me to accept your money?” The fury that fills me is making me shake.
“Why? Is it more humiliating than selling your body?” He seems genuinely confused by my question.
“Because not everyone was born with money. I grew up in a family where we worked hard, and every penny counted. People who have never been rich think a thousand times before borrowing even ten dollars from someone because they know the value and weight of that money in the family budget. And here you are, casually offering me hundreds of thousands of dollars without wanting me to repay you. I will not become one of your charity projects!” I rant.
“But I have the money! I won’t go bankrupt if I don’t get it back. Would you rather sleep with strangers than accept help from me? Do you want me to subscribe to that website? Do you want to pay me back with sex? Okay, I’ll sign up for that service and contact you via an internet page if that’s what you want. If that’s the only way I can get you to accept that money…” He’s angry, and it makes me even more furious.
I get up from the couch, grab my stuff and shove it into my bag. “If you think you can treat me like one of the prostitutes you take to bed, you’re wrong,” I hiss before leaving the room.