by Harper Bliss
“You do. You look remarkable for someone on sick leave.”
“That’s why I’m going back to work next week. I’ve missed bugging you.”
“Oh, and how we’ve missed you.” Caitlin put her cup down.
“It does feel a bit strange, though,” Jessica said. “It doesn’t feel like the same person going back. Honestly, I got lucky. Yes, I had surgery, but it wasn’t even that invasive—”
Caitlin held up her hand. “Let me stop you right there.” She leaned over the table. “You keep doing this, Jess. You keep claiming you got lucky and that it could have been much worse. But you had a breast removed. You had cancer. That’s not what’s generally considered ‘being lucky.’”
“Not everyone gets to survive,” Jessica said.
“That’s true, but that doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to feel shaken up by this whole thing.”
“I feel plenty shaken up.” Jessica took a deep breath. “I’m just over having to talk about it all the time.” She ran a finger over the handle of her coffee cup. “Yet I’m constantly reminded of it. Not only when I can’t face myself in the mirror, but just in everyday life. For example, when I think about going back to work. I think in terms of pre- and post-cancer now. I’m not really sure who I am post-cancer, while I knew very well who I was before.”
“Let me tell you how your co-workers saw you before cancer,” Caitlin said, keeping her voice low.
“No need. They saw me as the big boss’s daughter. A bit of a tough bitch who was out to prove she was more than a daddy’s girl who took one of the top jobs. Not on merit, but because of nepotism.”
“Wow,” Caitlin said on a sigh. “Seems to me you’ve become even harder on yourself.” She shook her head. “That’s not what I was going to say at all.”
Jessica let her shoulders slump. She inhaled deeply to regroup. “It’s like there’s this dark cloud following me around. It doesn’t always hang over my head, but it moves in and out. When it does move in, things always look so bleak.”
“Do you think coming back to work will help?” Caitlin asked.
Jessica nodded vigorously. “God, yes. I need some purpose.”
“You won’t be working full-time from the get-go, will you?” Caitlin pinned her gaze on Jessica.
“No, but not because I don’t want to. They won’t let me. My father must have gotten to the HR department. It’s very unlike him to meddle with things like that.”
“Maybe he realized he could have lost you.”
Jessica scoffed. “Edward Porter doesn’t let his mind become occupied with futilities like that.”
“You’d be surprised,” Caitlin said.
“And you’re the expert on parents now, are you?” Jessica was well aware of how acerbic she sounded.
“Christ, Jess,” Caitlin said. “You have a wall of sarcasm of about this thick around you.” Caitlin held her hands ten inches apart. “I know why, so I forgive you, but when you go back to work, not everyone will be as understanding as I am.” Caitlin looked at the door and her face lit up.
Jessica followed her gaze. Jo had just walked in. Jessica hadn’t seen her often since the night they’d spent together, but every time she did a shiver ran up her spine.
She had orchestrated that night when she, Caitlin, Jo and Katherine had landed in bed together for a reason. It was meant to be a farewell to the Jessica with two naturally-grown breasts. Seeing Jo reminded her very specifically of that, because that night Jo had definitely been the most taken with her breasts. What would she think if she saw them now?
“I’m sorry,” Jessica quickly mumbled. Caitlin had sat by her bedside when Jessica hadn’t been able to do much and had confided in her about her own sour relationship with her parents.
Caitlin waved her off. “You’re forgiven.” She pulled up a chair for Jo.
“Hey, Jess,” Jo said, and leaned down to kiss Jessica on the cheek. “You’re looking well.”
“Coffee with Caitlin James will do that to you,” Jessica replied. She shot Jo a quick wink, then scanned Caitlin’s face to make sure she had definitely been forgiven for her earlier remark.
Jo put an arm around Caitlin’s shoulders. “Refills?” Jo glanced around the Pink Bean. “I haven’t worked here in months yet it still feels strange to just walk in here,” she said.
“Decaf for me, please,” Jessica said. “I think this is around the time Amber comes in and I don’t want another lecture on the negative effects of caffeine on my body’s healing process.”
“Even Amber can’t tell the difference between regular coffee and decaf by sight alone,” Jo said.
Jessica shrugged. “Then I guess her speech worked on me, because I’ll have decaf regardless.”
“If you really wanted to impress her, you’d have a green tea,” Caitlin chimed in.
“And go vegan,” Jo added. She glanced at Caitlin. “Another long black for you, babe, so you’ll be nicely jacked up for the rest of the day?”
Caitlin patted Jo on the back. “You got it.”
Jo headed to the counter and Jessica took the opportunity to lean over the table and say, “Katherine asked about you the other day.”
Caitlin pursed her lips together and nodded. “How is she?”
“She wanted to know when I would be throwing another dinner party like that.” Jessica couldn’t help but grin.
Caitlin chuckled. “What did you say?”
“That you and I are friends of a different nature now.”
Caitlin nodded. “I’m glad we agree.”
They sat in silence for a few moments.
“That doesn’t mean we can’t have a meal together, of course,” Caitlin said after a while. “Do you want to come to ours some time? Bring Katherine?”
“That would be lovely.” Jessica couldn’t help but think about someone else she would like to bring. After her conversation with Katherine, Jessica had tried not to think about Liz, but trying not to think about someone usually had the opposite result. Jessica’s brain was subject to the same laws of psychology. She thought about her evening with Liz often. She tried berating herself by replaying Katherine’s words in her head, but she always ended up rebuffing them. What Katherine had claimed was simply too ludicrous.
Jo returned with their cups of coffee.
“Tell us when you’re free, darling,” Caitlin said, “Jess and Katherine are coming to dinner.”
Jo quirked up her eyebrows but didn’t say anything.
“Not like that,” Caitlin said. “Just dinner.”
Jo chuckled. “Of course. What else could we possibly do but eat, drink, and be merry?”
Chapter Seven
Jessica’s first day back at work wasn’t going so well. She felt almost as out of place as she had on the day her own company had gone bust and she hadn’t told any of her employees yet. Today, she felt like someone placed by her father to oversee the Programming Department, like a mere puppet drilled to report on any unusual goings-on, not someone capable of actually running the department. Caitlin had been right, Morton had done a good job of replacing her. Apart from going through a mailbox with too many emails in it to ever read, Jessica didn’t quite know what to do with herself.
Instead of addressing her inbox and getting back into the swing of things, she picked up her phone and scrolled through the apps. Her finger eventually landed on the web browser in which she opened a private window. She logged on to the escort agency’s website and let her finger hover over the contact button. Her pulse picked up speed. Katherine had been right about one thing. The entire process at least made Jessica feel very much alive—made her feel something real.
The required action was simple. All she had to do was send a message and request Liz. It could be as brief as ‘Liz - this afternoon - my known address’.
But Jessica closed the browser window and threw her phone onto her desk. She had work to do. She shot out of her chair and walked to the window. From her office she could see Darling Harbou
r. Dozens of tiny people were milling about below, going about their day. They walked as though filled to the brim with a sense of purpose. Something Jessica couldn’t possibly fathom.
But what had she expected? That she could just step into her office and, as though she had walked through a magic door, she would feel that drive again?
She didn’t feel any purpose, nor magic. It was like she had lost all the drive she had started this new job with not even a year ago. The truth was that while she was on sick leave, Jessica had barely watched ANBC, or any other network TV. The only exception was The Caitlin James Show.
She had blamed it on her illness, on not having much appetite for anything. Watching TV had been very low on her list of needs to fulfill, even if it was the only thing to keep her company, especially during the long hours before and after midnight. She had believed this was because TV just reminded her of work, and work reminded her of her advertising agency that she had led into bankruptcy, and the fallout of all of that.
But now that she was back at work, she didn’t feel that spark she used to feel anymore. She didn’t know if it was because some of her views on life had changed since her diagnosis, or simply because she was, as her father would most likely call it, capricious.
“You’re in your forties, yet you behave like one of those entitled millennials,” he’d said after he had paid off her employees—his money in return for their silence.
Jessica shook off that thought and tried to empty her mind the way Amber had taught her. Caitlin had brought her on a few visits while she was convalescing, even though they hardly knew each other. Caitlin had barely been able to stop Amber from going through Jessica’s kitchen cabinets searching for foods that should be in no cancer survivor’s pantry.
Jessica closed off her right nostril with her thumb, breathed in deeply through the other, then pushed her index finger against her left nostril and exhaled through the right one. This was supposed to calm her down. The problem was that Jessica wasn’t feeling agitated. It was more a sense of total deflation that absorbed her.
She’d been scared of coming back to work, but also excited. Now that she was here however, the same numbness that had lain over her like a blanket since her surgery had returned—a blanket that she couldn’t throw off, no matter how hard she tried.
The only time she’d felt it lift, was on that walk with Liz. And when Liz had pushed her thumbs into the hard knots underneath Jessica’s shoulder blades.
Jessica checked her watch. It was almost eleven. She was only supposed to be in half a day. She’d had a big breakfast meeting with the key people in her department earlier that morning. She’d been briefed but, she got the impression, not too much. Even the people she worked with felt like she wasn’t fully back yet. She could leave work right now and no one would care. A few people would notice, but they would shrug it off all too easily.
The fact of the matter was that Jessica didn’t want to be there. She wanted to walk around the city, preferably with Liz on her arm. Was that really such a bad thing to want? Perhaps it was exactly what she needed. Some time with Liz to recharge and start fresh at work tomorrow. Yes, that was it. She could come in the next day feeling more alive, ready and able.
She walked to her desk, picked up her phone, and opened the private browser window again. She sent the message.
She paced through her office waiting for a response after the immediate automated one. Was someone calling Liz now to check her availability—and her willingness to see Jessica again? Jessica had been glad for the opportunity to quiz Katherine, but she still had so many questions left. Maybe she could ask Liz. She just wanted to go for a walk, maybe get another one of those shoulder massages, and have a chat.
And feel the warmth of Liz’s smile.
She glared at her phone every few seconds, but refused to let herself pick it up until ten minutes had passed. What if Liz didn’t want to see her anymore? Or if Katherine had told her about their conversation. Was that even possible? Wouldn’t that break the agency’s code of conduct?
She picked up her phone and checked her messages on the website. A new one had come in.
* * *
Liz will be at your known address at 3:00 p.m.
* * *
Jessica balled her fist in a gesture of victory. Instantly, the apathy she had been drenched in all morning fell away. She had four hours to get ready for Liz.
Chapter Eight
Jessica was ready long before Liz rang the doorbell. A little before three, she heard a car pull up in her quiet street. A door opened and closed, then the car drove off. She wondered if the agency had their own car service or if they just used taxis and Ubers.
She opened the door before Liz had a chance to ring the bell. Jessica scanned the street, but her gaze was instantly drawn to Liz.
“Hey.” Liz stood there grinning, as though it had always been a foregone conclusion that Jessica would request her services again.
“Hi, please come in.” Jessica gave Liz a once-over. She was slightly taken aback by her outfit. Laurel would never have shown up in jeans—no matter how well-fitted—and a plaid shirt. Jessica could distinguish fine clothing from cheap garments made in Asian factories, and the shirt Liz was wearing, unbuttoned over a white, very tight top, didn’t look cheap at all, yet the way she wore it made her look so casual. Too casual for the job she was here to do.
Liz slipped inside and as she walked past, Jessica could smell her perfume. It was fruity and light with a hint of nut. Liz halted in the hallway and put a hand on Jessica’s shoulder. “Good to see you again,” she said.
“You too.” Jessica let her gaze linger on Liz’s jeans for an instant and slanted her head.
Liz looked Jessica in the eye. “This is how I dress on a Monday. I took a gamble and thought you’d be okay with that.”
Jessica arched up her eyebrows. “It’s fine, of course.” She tried very hard to not look for any deeper meaning behind Liz’s choice of clothing even though it didn’t align with her idea of how an escort was supposed to dress.
“How are you?” Liz asked and squeezed Jessica’s shoulder again.
“Well.” She led them into the living room. “I was hoping we could go for a walk again. The weather’s lovely.”
Liz stuck out a foot. “Sensible shoes.” They were brown leather boots. The color matched Liz’s belt. She wore a leather jacket in a slightly darker shade of brown. If Jessica had crossed her in the street looking like this, she wouldn’t have only turned around because Liz was a beautiful woman, but because her gaydar would be seriously pinging.
She couldn’t wait to walk through the streets of Pott’s Point with this woman on her arm.
“Didn’t you say you were starting work again this week?” Liz asked.
They had walked to the end of Jessica’s street in silence. Jessica wondered if Liz needed some time to read her mood before she initiated conversation. Or perhaps she didn’t really know what to say. Conversation skills were surely something she needed in her line of work, but, Jessica figured, it was hardly her main job. Or maybe it was.
Too many questions were buzzing around in her head again, so she was glad Liz broke the silence, even if it meant she had to talk about work.
“I did, I started today. Only part-time for the first few weeks though. We’ll see how it goes.”
“How did it go this morning?” Liz was the one to steer them to the right at the end of the street. It didn’t matter which direction they walked in. Jessica just wanted to be outside of her house, breathe in some fresh air, and not feel alone while doing so.
Jessica shook her head. “Not an unequivocal success.” Her shoulders slumped at the mere memory of how deflated she had felt.
“Isn’t that to be expected after a long absence?” Liz asked.
“No, I was expecting the opposite.” Jessica glanced at Liz from the corner of her eye.
“Maybe you went back too soon.”
“Maybe,” Jessica mumbled, b
ut her mind had been put on a different track already. “Have you ever had a corporate job?” she asked.
Liz remained silent for a beat. “I have.” Silence again. Jessica didn’t say anything, hoping Liz would continue of her own accord. “It was an office job. I would hardly call it corporate. Admin mostly. It didn’t suit me very much.” She turned to Jessica and smiled. “Come to think of it, it was kind of soul-sucking. And the money wasn’t all that good either.”
“Soul-sucking?” Jessica repeated.
“It was just dreary, unchallenging, repetitive office work. Some people can thrive in that sort of environment, but I can’t.”
“Soul-sucking is not a word you would use to describe your current job?” Jessica asked.
“No way.” Liz vehemently shook her head. “Quite the opposite I would say.”
“Really?”
Liz stopped in her tracks. “It’s kind of a strange question.”
It was physically impossible for Jessica not to look up to Liz as they stood facing each other.
“Does any of this feel soul-sucking to you?” Liz asked.
“Well, no, but I—”
“You’re the client.” Liz grinned. “And there’s a distinct difference between us in this relationship.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “That’s absolutely true, but I never do a job I don’t want to do.”
Her words reminded Jessica that, in the end, that was all she was and ever could be to Liz: a job.
Liz uncrossed her arms and touched a finger to Jessica’s chin. “I’m out and about on a beautiful spring day with a gorgeous, sophisticated woman. Tell me where the bad deal in that is for me?” She tilted up Jessica’s chin.
Jessica averted her eyes. A hot flush crept up her cheeks. Gorgeous? Sophisticated? Technically, Liz was paid to say these things to her, but that didn’t mean she had to.
“Shall we continue our walk?” Jessica said.
