by Harper Bliss
Jessica opened the drawer and retrieved the envelope she had prepared. She gave it to Liz. “Please. No arguments.”
Liz regarded the envelope. How many of these did she hold in her hands every week? Jessica had so many questions popping into her head again. Questions she was always so easily able to push to the back of her mind when she was with Laurel. Probably because the transaction with Laurel had always been very different—much more to the point.
“I want to protest,” Liz said. “But I also don’t want you to feel bad about not paying me. In the end, it’s your call.”
“Take the money,” Jessica said. “The time you spent with me was worth far more than what’s in that envelope.”
“Thank you.” Liz smiled, a glint of overhead light catching in her eyes. “I appreciate that.” She leaned forward and kissed Jessica on the cheek. “I can stay longer if you want me to.”
“I’m really tired. Too much excitement for one day.” It wasn’t even a quip. Who knew feeling alive for a few brief moments could take up so much energy?
“I understand.” Liz touched her hand lightly against Jessica’s shoulder. “I hope to see you again soon.” She opened her arms wide and drew Jessica in for a hug.
“Me too,” Jessica mumbled against Liz’s shoulder.
After Liz had left, Jessica stood staring at the door for a while longer, leaning against the cabinet out of which she had taken the envelope of money. Jessica couldn’t quite get her head around what had happened tonight. It hadn’t come close to anything she had expected.
Chapter Five
“I like your haircut,” Katherine said. “Shorter hair suits you.”
“I thought it would be more age appropriate,” Jessica said.
“Oh come on. Please don’t tell me that was the main motivation for cutting your hair.”
“Of course. Mid-forties means mid-length hair. Ask any woman in my family.”
“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not ask the women in your family anything at all—except you, of course.”
They both chuckled.
“How are you feeling?” Katherine asked.
“Good,” Jessica said. “Although there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you. Most likely something you’re not too keen to talk about. But I can play the C-card, of course.”
Katherine shook her head but had a grin on her face nonetheless. “You’ve played the C-card too often. It has lost its power.”
“Damn.” Jessica leaned back in her chair. “I thought I’d be able to use it for at least a year after my surgery.”
“Maybe that works with other people, but not with me.” Katherine put down her grapefruit mimosa. Jessica had invited her for brunch, although she wasn’t partaking of the mimosas herself. Her doctor had advised her to not drink too much alcohol and, since her diagnosis, Jessica had drawn the line at daytime drinking. But it was good that Katherine already had two drinks down her. It would make her more amenable to the subject Jessica was eager to discuss.
Jessica looked her friend in the eye. There seemed to be no other way to ask this question, not for her. Eye contact was required. “What happened to Laurel?”
“Laurel?” Katherine said. “Why do you ask?”
Jessica rolled her eyes. “Why can’t you simply answer a question with an actual reply instead of another question?”
“Come on, Jess. You know I can’t give you any information about Laurel. We have a code of conduct.”
“And is that code still valid once someone’s no longer with the agency?”
Katherine sighed. “The truth is that I don’t know what happened to Laurel after she quit. She’s probably just living her life, like we all do, except she doesn’t do certain things anymore.” Katherine narrowed her eyes. “How do you know Laurel quit?”
“I, er, booked her for the other night. Someone else turned up.”
Katherine’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you serious?”
Jessica nodded slowly.
“God, Jess, I’m so sorry. That should never have happened.”
“It worked out fine in the end.”
“Did you make a complaint?”
“It’s been dealt with.”
Katherine tilted her head. “You’re taking this surprisingly well.”
“Believe me, I didn’t at the time. But let’s just say that the woman who turned up helped me change my mind over the course of the evening.”
“Who was it?” Katherine asked.
“I’m not sure I’m allowed to say. Code of conduct and all that,” Jessica said.
“The code doesn’t apply to you,” Katherine was quick to say.
“She called herself Liz. Probably not her real name. She didn’t much look like a Liz.”
Katherine nodded. “I know Liz.”
“You do?” Jessica’s heart skipped a beat.
“I like her. She’s got a good sense of humor, which is a necessity in our line of work, although not everyone possesses the required amount. Liz does.”
“Nothing happened,” Jessica blurted out. “We just talked. Went for a walk.”
Katherine looked at Jessica from under her lashes while she took another sip of her drink. “Would something have happened if Laurel had turned up?”
“Who’s to say, really?” Jessica said wistfully. “I knew I wasn’t ready but I wanted to force something. Now I’m not even sure I still want to use an escort agency to fulfill this need inside of me.” She shook her head. “Sometimes I think having all this money has made me so fucked up in the head.” Jessica was glad she could at least talk to Katherine about this. She wouldn’t dream of broaching the subject with anyone else—not even someone as open-minded as Caitlin. It wasn’t about the other person’s open-mindedness anyway. It was about her own feelings of shame.
“Take it from someone who knows, Jess. For someone with too much money to know what to do with, you’re a very decent person.” Katherine grinned. “If you feel fucked up, it’s because of the cancer. And the other stuff that happened before. The past few years have been rough on you.”
“Is that an excuse to hire an escort, though?”
“You don’t need an excuse. You don’t need to justify yourself to anyone.”
“Myself,” Jessica said. “I had a lovely evening with Liz, but it was just that. An evening. God knows what she’s doing with another woman right this moment. It’s all so fake, yet it feels like all I’m capable of.”
“It’s not fake in the moment,” Katherine said.
“I’m not sure I get what you’re saying.” Jessica looked at her friend. “You don’t fake it with clients?”
“You are not faking it in the moment. What you feel is real. That’s all that matters. That’s why you asked Laurel to come over. Because, however briefly, you knew she could make you feel something real.”
Jessica huffed out a breath. “I don’t think so.”
“Think about it for a day or two, then let me know if my words of wisdom still don’t have a whiff of truth to them.” Katherine found Jessica’s gaze. “And don’t forget, we have feelings too. We are humans just like you.”
Jessica mixed Katherine another mimosa. Before she had cancer she wouldn’t have dared to continue this line of questioning but since meeting Liz, her curiosity had been piqued. “Can I ask you something else?”
“You might as well. That’s why you keep topping up my glass, isn’t it? Although I would like to state for the record that it’s no fun drinking alone. Won’t you have a tiny glass with me? It’s not going to kill you any faster, is it?”
Jessica burst out laughing. Comments like this were the very reason she and Katherine had become friends.
“Oh, all right.” She quickly drank the contents of her water glass, poured a splash of champagne and a good glug of grapefruit juice into it, and held it up. “To tipsy Sunday brunches.”
“And good friends.” Katherine watched Jessica take a sip. “Now, shoot,” she said. “Wha
t’s the pressing matter on your mind?”
“Have you, um, ever developed feelings for a client?”
“I don’t want to say you’re easy to read, Jess, but I saw that one coming from a mile away.” Katherine chuckled.
“How could you possibly have known what I was going to ask?”
“I see and hear so many things. A lot depends on me being able to read people. And you’re my friend. I know you well.” She drew her lips into a soft smile before speaking again. “And I couldn’t help but notice the sparkle in your eyes when you spoke of Liz.”
“What?” Jessica’s cheeks flushed. “No, no, no. That’s not why I’m asking.” She drank from her mimosa. “And, once again, you’re not answering the question.”
“Okay, Little Miss Defensive… although I dare say the lady doth protest too much.” She winked. “The answer to your question is no. This isn’t Pretty Woman.”
“Agreed. Not one Richard Gere in sight and thank goodness for that.” Jessica fiddled with her hands. She regretted having asked the question—had she given away too much? To herself included?—yet she couldn’t quite let it go. “You’ve never met anyone of who you thought that, under different circumstances you might hit it off with?”
“Ah, but that’s the key right there. Circumstance is everything. I’m not saying emotions are that easily controlled all the time, or that it’s the same for everyone, but I’m just not one to develop romantic feelings for someone who pays me money to sleep with them. There’s a psychological line I can’t cross, no matter how charming or nice or dazzling the client. It just doesn’t happen. It’s like, as a lesbian, you have to learn early on to not fall for the straight girls because you know there’s just no way, and you know you’ll only end up getting hurt.”
“That didn’t stop me from falling in love with many a straight girl in my time.” Jessica scoffed.
“Yes well, hormones and puberty and such will do that to you. But now you know. You learned your lesson and you evolved. It’s part of you.”
“That just sounds a little too easy. Sometimes you simply can’t help falling for a straight girl. If I had a penny for every adult lesbian hopelessly in love with a straight woman at this very moment, I’d be very rich indeed.”
“You’re rich already, Jess.”
Jessica waved off Katherine’s comment. “I don’t agree with your analogy.”
“It’s a matter of give and take. Of giving the right signs. Or, if you’re receiving signs that someone is developing a little crush, of not throwing oil onto the fire. And of being mature about these things.”
“Let me ask you this then,” Jessica said. “Have any of your clients had a noticeable crush on you?”
Katherine leaned back, taking her mimosa with her. After a while, she nodded. “It happens. It’s a thin line when you spend time in bed with someone.”
“How did you handle it?” Jessica’s ears perked all the way up.
“Never by milking it, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Katherine narrowed her eyes to slits.
“Who’s defensive now?” Jessica asked.
“I’m just a bit baffled by your sudden curiosity about my job.”
“I’ve always been this curious, Kat. I think before I was just too embarrassed to ask.”
“But is it a coincidence that you want to know about it all mere days after you met Liz?” Katherine quirked up her eyebrows.
“Yes and no.” Jessica grinned at Katherine.
“Please elaborate.”
“It had been months since I last saw Laurel. I had bloody surgery—I had a breast removed. My mind hasn’t really been pondering the ins and outs of the escort service. Then meeting Liz, and having too much time on my hands, brought up a lot of questions. Does that explain it?”
“You could have had all those questions when you were a regular client of Laurel’s. We were friends then. You could have asked me then.”
“But that was before I knew I had cancer. Back then, I wasn’t the type of person to ask questions like this.”
“Ah, so if I understand correctly, your diagnosis, surgery, and convalescence have all worked together to ignite your curiosity about being a luxury escort. Are you considering a career switch, Jess?” Katherine had a smug smile on her face.
Jessica nearly spat out the sip of mimosa she just took. “Christ, imagine my father’s reaction.” She chuckled. “Or no, my stepmother’s. Hers would be priceless. A drama for the ages. Woe her.” She shook her head. “I’m just curious. That’s it. And you still haven’t answered my question.”
“I’ll answer more than your question.” Katherine pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “When I notice a client developing feelings for me, I wind down the relationship. That’s the only correct way to deal with it. At least, that’s the way I deal with it. I try not to embarrass them in the process and, if they’re open to it, hook them up with someone else. It doesn’t have to be a big drama.” She leaned forward again, tapping her index finger onto the wooden table top. “Now as for the question you didn’t ask—well, not in so many words, anyway.” She tilted her head. “My conclusion is the following: I think you like Liz.”
“Well, yes. I think I said as much.” Jessica’s hackles went all the way up.
“You sure did.” Katherine extended her hand over the table and enveloped Jessica’s in hers. “You’re like an open book. I’m not saying this to goad you or embarrass you. I’m saying this as your friend. If this is how you feel after a few hours during which—your words—‘nothing happened’, I would advise you to not see Liz again. I can get you someone else. Someone more like Laurel.”
“What?” Jessica shook her head. “No, Kat, you’ve got it all wrong. Those mimosas must have gone to your head.” Jessica pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, but it was too short to remain there and sprang back immediately. Part of the reason why she’d had her hair cut shorter was because it no longer felt right to have long hair. When she went to the hospital to see her oncologist, the waiting room usually held a few people who had not been as fortunate to keep their hair during their treatment.
“I believe I can still hold my liquor.” She drew her lips into a soft smile. “You’re extra vulnerable right now. You crave someone’s arms around you. It’s a bitch what you’ve gone through—and you chose to do it alone, Jess. You didn’t tell me you needed surgery. Your emotions were all over the place and you’re only now coming back from that. I’m just trying to help. I don’t want you to get hurt even more.”
“The surgery was almost three months ago. I’m in a much better place right now.”
“I can tell you’re doing better physically. That’s for sure.” Katherine squeezed Jessica’s hand. Jessica had to admit it felt good on hers. Just like feeling Liz’s hand in hers had felt somehow right. “Often, when you feel better after an illness, the brain can trick you into feeling superhuman, like you’re up for anything. But you need to give your emotions time to catch up. Falling in love with an escort isn’t going to help that process.”
Jessica drew her hand away. “For Christ’s sake. I’m not falling in love with Liz. I’ve only met the woman once. All she turned out to be was a nice surprise.” Jessica shook her head. “I know you mean well, but your powers of perception are not as finely attuned as you think they are.”
Katherine held up her hands. “Fine. I’ll drop it.” She slanted herself away from Jessica. “Let’s change the subject, shall we?”
“Let’s.” Jessica drank from her mimosa. She barely tasted the alcohol. It slid down so easily. She emptied her glass and poured herself another.
“Are you ready to go back to work?” Katherine asked.
“Oh yes. I’m so tired of doing nothing. That’s what killed me after the agency went bankrupt as well. Waking up and having no idea what to do with my day.”
“How’s Caitlin?” A different kind of smile appeared on Katherine’s face.
“She has been so kind to me. Truth be t
old, I hadn’t expected it.”
“Even after that disappearing act you pulled on her. Well, on both of us.”
“Water under the bridge, Kat. You know why I did it. So does Caitlin. We’ve all moved on.”
Katherine nodded. “When will you be ready to host another dinner party?” She quirked up one side of her mouth.
Jessica shook her head. “That ship has sailed. Caitlin and I are such good friends now.”
“What does that say about our friendship then?” There was glee in Katherine’s tone.
“It’s different with you. Not every friendship is the same.”
Katherine gave a brief chuckle then fell silent. “As soon as you feel up to it, we should go to one of Jo’s gigs. You haven’t seen her live have you?”
“I’ve seen plenty of her live.” Jessica couldn’t help but smile.
“You know what I mean.” Katherine smiled with her.
Jessica nodded. “I’ll let you know.”
Chapter Six
“Morton’s fine,” Caitlin said. “Very unintrusive.” She was referring to the person currently replacing Jessica at ANBC while she was on sick leave.
“You mean he doesn’t nag you about getting certain people on your show?” When Jessica had just started her job at the network and had become Caitlin’s boss, she had pushed relentlessly for Caitlin to interview reality TV star Kathy Kramer. The show had been a disaster. Jessica had learned her lesson and had since refrained from suggesting guests.
“There’s that.” Caitlin beamed a wide smile at her. “How are you feeling?” She sipped from her coffee. They were sitting at a table by the window in the Pink Bean.
“Fine.” One of the oddest experiences of falling ill was not being able to resort to that standard reply whenever someone asked how she was doing. It was a word so ingrained in everyday life, it was hard to deviate from, even when she was feeling at her worst.
“Really?” Caitlin insisted. “You know you can talk to me.”
“Do I not look fine to you?” Jessica painted on a fake, wide grin.
