by Harper Bliss
Jessica didn’t reply immediately. Then she mumbled, “I’m still convalescing, I guess.”
“Sorry? I didn’t quite get that.” Liz shuffled a little closer.
“I had surgery a while ago. I haven’t gone back to work yet. Going back next week, though.” Jessica forced her voice to be louder, making it sound unnatural.
“How do you feel about that?” Liz asked.
What was this? Rent-a-shrink? Jessica shrugged. She didn’t have strong feelings about anything lately. As though something inside of her had gone numb when they’d taken a scalpel to her body and removed a body part she could live without.
“I’m sure it’ll beat watching Netflix all day,” she said laconically.
“Are you in pain?” Liz asked. “After your surgery?”
“Not anymore,” Jessica lied, because sometimes she felt the most acute pain in the very part of her body that wasn’t there anymore. A pain she could do nothing about because it was all in her head—where else could it possibly be?
Liz glanced at her and sent her a soft smile. She put her glass down, held up her hands, and wiggled her fingers. “I give a mean massage,” she said. “As hard or soft as you like.”
Jessica didn’t know what to say to that so she just stared at Liz’s hands—and her long, strong fingers. It was decision time again. “That’s very nice of you to offer, but I’m good.”
“Let me know if you change your mind.” Liz drummed her fingertips on her thigh. “You look a bit tense around the shoulders.”
Jessica huffed out some pent-up air.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t quite catch that either,” Liz said, a wide smile on her face again.
“I was trying to picture how I’m coming across. Obviously, you know who I am. You did your research. I’m sure the agency has a file on me. Part of me would like to know whether Laurel shared certain details about me, although the other part of me prefers not to think about that. I can only imagine this evening is not going according to your plan at all. And that you hadn’t counted on meeting such an uptight rich girl, having to slog through this awkward conversation with me.”
“That’s not how I think of you at all, Jessica.” Liz’s voice had gone all soft and buttery. “And just to put your mind at ease, no details are shared between us at the agency. Discretion is the key to our success. There are no files, although I have, of course, looked you up online.” She sank her teeth into her bottom lip for a split second. “Can’t say I found much. Discretion seems to be very important to you as well.”
“It should be to more people.” Jessica didn’t feel like divulging the real reason for the meagre results a Google search of her name yielded.
“That’s so very true.” Liz smiled again. “All of that being said, and since we were talking about my possible other skills earlier…” She looked Jessica in the eye again. “I can clearly sense you’re feeling ill at ease. Not so much about me, although having me turn up when you were expecting Laurel has understandably thrown you. You don’t seem to be very comfortable in your skin. Perhaps the surgery you talked about earlier has something to do with that?”
Jessica hadn’t seen her therapist since before the surgery. She was beginning to think that was a mistake. Liz was playing shrink with her and it was having an unmistakable effect on her—the jury was still out on whether it was a positive or negative effect, but Jessica was just glad to be feeling something other than the dread she faced when looking into the mirror.
“You know what, Liz?” She smiled back. “I think I might be up for a bit of a shoulder massage.”
Chapter Three
“It would be my pleasure.” Liz rose and looked around the room. “Why don’t you sit in that chair over there.” She pointed at the low-backed armchair in which Jessica liked to curl up with a book—even though she hadn’t read more than the odd page lately. “Put your feet up.” Liz dragged the ottoman close. “I’ll do the rest.”
Jessica followed her instructions. By the time she sat, her shoulders were so tense, she couldn’t wait for Liz’s fingers to dig in.
“I’m just going to massage you over your blouse. Is that okay?” Liz asked, her voice a soft whisper.
“Yes.” Jessica concluded that one of Liz’s other skills was a sixth sense as to which items of clothing her clients were comfortable removing at any given time. Jessica was nowhere near ready to lower her blouse, let alone take it off in front of a stranger. Although, when she was clothed, if you didn’t know about her surgery, and didn’t look too closely, you probably couldn’t tell.
Liz ran her fingers over the back of Jessica’s head, then the base of her skull, as though she was trying to get a feel and read the level of tension residing in that area of Jessica’s body.
Her fingertips caressed the exposed skin above the collar of her blouse. They dipped in a fraction, stroking her neck, before moving to her shoulders, over the fabric of Jessica’s blouse.
Jessica was glad she was wearing a long-sleeved blouse because her skin broke out into goose bumps. She hadn’t been touched like this in so long. With tenderness, as opposed to the directness of a nurse’s skilled hands when she changed Jessica’s bandages.
Over Jessica’s blouse, Liz circled her thumbs next to Jessica’s shoulder blades, the very spot where Jessica always suffered from various stress-related aches. When Liz’s thumbs sunk in, Jessica couldn’t suppress a gasp of pure pleasure.
Liz reacted by applying more pressure and gradually expanding the area she was working on. She dug her fingers into the hard-knotted muscles of Jessica’s shoulders, pressed her knuckles against the most persistent knots, and worked magic with her thumbs until Jessica felt a wave of tension just flow out of her, as though Liz was absorbing it through her fingertips.
Jessica had lost track of time and had no idea how long Liz had been massaging her shoulders, but she hadn’t strayed beyond the boundaries of her blouse. The motion of Liz’s hands slowed and then Jessica felt Liz’s breath near her ear.
“Would you like me to do your neck as well?” she whispered, making it sound like a very sexy proposition.
“Yes, please.” Jessica barely recognized her own voice.
“Okay,” Liz said. “Just relax.” She started by pushing the collar of Jessica’s blouse down a little. Jessica responded by undoing one button so she could expose a little more skin on her neck.
“I’ll just be a second,” Liz said.
Jessica watched Liz go over to the couch and pick up her bag, which she’d left next to it. When Liz returned to her position behind her, Jessica heard her rustling through the bag. She heard more rustling, followed by a squirting noise, and the sound of hands being rubbed together with some lotion or oil between them.
Liz’s hands were slick and warm when they touched down on Jessica’s neck.
Innocent though it seemed, Jessica hadn’t been touched this intimately since she’d shared a bed with three other women, one of whom she’d paid for her services.
So many thoughts ran through her head. When would she be able to share intimacy with someone she loved again? She had a long way to go before that could happen. First, she’d have to be able to show herself—to herself. That was the first step. Perhaps this evening wasn’t going as planned, but it was helping. The sensation of Liz’s skilled fingers kneading her neck, running up and down the sensitive skin along the side of it, was taking down a little more of her guard with every tiny motion.
For a brief moment, Jessica considered asking for a full back massage, that was how divine Liz’s hands felt on her flesh. But she didn’t. The words didn’t come out of her mouth and she knew that was because she wasn’t ready to speak them—she wasn’t ready for anything other than her blouse collar being pushed down a fraction.
“That was divine,” Jessica said when the neck massage was over.
“I’m glad.” Liz’s hands hadn’t ventured any lower than Jessica had felt comfortable with. She hadn’t pushed Jessica’s bounda
ries in any way. Maybe she sensed that Jessica wasn’t ready. Maybe her sixth sense was her superpower. “Can I wash my hands somewhere?”
Jessica pointed Liz to the bathroom in the hallway and took the moment alone to regroup. What would happen next? It was entirely up to her. She could ask Liz to leave. She would never have to see her again. Or she could pour her another glass of wine and they could continue their chat. Jessica might not be ready for a number of things just yet, but she was up to having a more candid conversation. Maybe if she just spoke the words to someone new, if they were out there in the atmosphere, it would be easier to open her eyes next time she stood in front of the mirror.
Liz’s hair fell into her eyes and she brushed it aside with an exquisite hand gesture as she returned and headed toward the couch.
“Would you like another glass of wine?” Jessica asked.
“I would love one.” Liz sat on the corner of the couch closest to Jessica’s armchair.
Jessica started to rise, but Liz held up her hand. “Let me,” she said. “You just relax a little more.”
Jessica watched her hop out of the couch with elegant swiftness. She wondered how old Liz was. Come to think of it, she’d never known Laurel’s age. She’d seen every nook and cranny of her body, and she had hazarded many a guess, but Laurel had never confirmed nor denied a number she offered.
Liz topped up their glasses and when she handed Jessica hers, she sent her a small smile. It was the kind of subtle smile that made Jessica imagine all sorts of things. Things she could have happen at the drop of a hat if she wanted them to. That was why Liz had come here in the first place.
“Thanks,” Jessica said and held Liz’s gaze. What had she had against the color of her eyes earlier? That they were lighter than Laurel’s? How silly. Just like Laurel, Liz had beautiful eyes.
Once Liz had sat again, her body leaning against the armrest of the couch, Jessica said, “I had a mastectomy. Breast cancer. I guess I was lucky that only my right breast had to be removed.” Her shoulders hunched, as though she was trying to obscure her chest from view.
“I’m so sorry. That must have been hard.” Liz didn’t sound very surprised.
“It was hard, but I also got lucky. I got to keep one.” Jessica had to stop herself from putting a protective hand on her left breast. “The biggest one.” She managed a chuckle.
“You haven’t had reconstructive surgery?” Liz asked, a warm smile forming on her lips.
“I was advised to wait at least half a year, in case I still needed radiation after the surgery. But I got lucky again. No radiation necessary. So far.”
“That’s good.” Liz looked into her wine glass, then up again. “You are lucky, even though getting cancer might not make you feel so lucky.”
Jessica drank before she spoke again. “It could have been a lot worse. I understand this very well.” She sighed. “I’ve been made very aware of my… mortality, I guess. Along with some other issues.”
Liz looked at her but didn’t say anything. In her profession, being a good listener was probably as important as keeping a fit body.
“I suddenly found myself at the age of forty-five without many people I could call genuine friends, without a family that cared beyond getting me the fanciest room in a private clinic, without a significant other, and without my right breast.” Jessica was aware of how pathetic she sounded. She squared her shoulders, making sure not to push her chest forward as she did, and looked Liz in the eye. An honest analysis of her life didn’t automatically make her pathetic. It was just how things were—and she wasn’t after Liz’s pity.
“That mustn’t be easy for someone who most people think has it all.”
Jessica waved off Liz’s comment. “I stopped caring about what others think of me a while back.” She painted on a wide grin. “And at least I have money. No matter how badly I fuck up, I will always have money. As crass as it may sound, there’s some comfort in that.”
“I don’t think there’s anything crass about money.” Liz mirrored her grin. “That would be quite hypocritical, doing what I do.”
Jessica narrowed her eyes. “Is this your only job?”
Liz nodded. “And a well-paid one at that.”
“Don’t I know it.” Jessica actually chuckled.
“But everything’s free tonight.” Liz leaned over the armrest a bit more. “Are you sure you don’t want another massage? Take advantage of the situation?”
“I’m not after a freebie.” Jessica shook her head. An idea popped into her head. “But since you’re still here, I’d like to ask you for another favor, if you don’t mind.”
“Anything except plumbing,” Liz joked. “I’m really no good at that.”
“I haven’t been out all day.” Jessica scrunched her lips together. “In fact, I haven’t been out since my last visit to the hospital three days ago. Will you come with me for a walk around the neighborhood?”
“It would be my pleasure.” Liz jumped up energetically. “It’s a lovely spring evening.”
“Great.” Jessica rose from her seat with considerably less energy.
Chapter Four
When they’d stood outside Jessica’s door, Liz had offered her arm for Jessica to hook hers through, and she had happily taken the opportunity. Walking around this Sydney neighborhood, to which she’d only moved a year ago, and under the current circumstances in which she often felt too fragile for the outside world, was so much easier on the arm of this gorgeous woman.
They walked in silence along MacLeay Street, meandering into smaller side streets. A few pubs had put out tables and chairs on the sidewalk already, but it was still a little too chilly to sit outside.
“Good thing I’m a sensible shoe girl,” Liz said after a while.
“There’s a phrase that could be taken in more ways than one,” Jessica replied. She steered them around. They’d walked for twenty minutes and still had to make it back to her house. She was getting tired.
Liz laughed heartily. She held on to Jessica’s arm a little tighter. “I know you’re going through a hard time right now and you’re probably not yourself entirely, but I get the impression that sometimes glimpses of your old self come through. I like it.”
“Ah, my old self.” Jessica breathed in a fresh gulp of evening air. “If I focus really hard, I sometimes remember her.”
“That sounded very dramatic.” Liz lightly bumped into Jessica.
“Drama might very well be the Porter family specialty. Or better, how to be inundated by it while all you try to do is avoid it.”
They both chuckled and it felt so good to have a little giggle with another woman by her side. Until Jessica remembered that she was paying for the experience—there was no way she would accept not paying after all the time Liz had spent with her. It wasn’t her fault that Jessica had no idea she would show up. And now that they were walking along the dark streets of Pott’s Point, she’d all but forgotten about Laurel.
“Is this what they call The Girlfriend Experience?” Jessica asked.
A deep laugh bubbled from Liz’s throat. “Not quite.”
“Is that something you get asked to do often?” Jessica had never dared ask Laurel questions like that. The vibe between them hadn’t really invited them. Tonight, however, she was experiencing intimacy—paid for, but intimacy nonetheless—of a different kind.
“I’d rather not talk about that.” Liz turned to face Jessica and painted on a wide smile—probably to make her rebuttal of Jessica’s question go down a little easier.
“Fair enough,” Jessica said.
“Ask me anything else instead,” Liz said.
Their footfalls could barely be heard on the sidewalk. Jessica had worn comfortable shoes as well. She was going for a walk, not attending an ANBC board meeting. Although she wished she’d worn heels so Liz didn’t dwarf her so much.
“Anything?” Jessica asked. “Are you sure?”
“Anything,” Liz confirmed.
“How
long have you been in this job?” Jessica had a number of pressing questions battling for the upper hand in her brain, but this was the one she chose to ask.
“A few years,” Liz said.
“That’s pretty vague. Kind of makes me feel I wasted my question.” They were approaching the dead-end street Jessica lived on.
“Ask me another one then. And make sure I can’t give you a vague answer.” There was obvious glee in Liz’s voice.
Jessica tried to sort through her thoughts. In the end, she found herself only capable of asking one very specific question. “Will you come back some day and finish that massage?” The question surprised her as well. Of all the things she could have asked she asked a question she could have gotten the answer to just by making a request to the agency. But she wanted to hear the words come from Liz’s mouth.
“I would love to.” Liz held on to Jessica’s arm a little tighter. They turned into Jessica’s street and, although she was slightly out of breath and getting more tired with every second that passed, Jessica suddenly found herself regretting that their walk was about to end. “Any time,” Liz said.
“Will you make sure they don’t send someone else?” Jessica asked as they halted in front of her house.
“I give you my word.” Liz let her hand slide from Jessica’s arm to her hand and slipped her fingers through Jessica’s.
Jessica couldn’t think of a better example of what she thought of as the girlfriend experience, but instead of ruining the moment by describing it, she decided to enjoy the touch of this beautiful woman’s fingers sliding against her own.
“Will you come in for a brief moment?” Jessica asked.
Liz nodded.
Jessica unlocked the door and they stood in the hallway. Because Jessica had expected Laurel, she had put the agreed-upon sum in an envelope and put it in a drawer in the hallway cabinet, that way she could pay Laurel as she let her out—and the exchange of money could be relegated to a brief afterthought.
