by Harper Bliss
“Should be, yes. But not all parents are like yours, unfortunately,” Jessica said on a sigh.
“Oh, that’s—” Liz was interrupted by the loud ring of her phone. It lay vibrating wildly on the arm rest of the couch. She shot up and grabbed it to look at the screen. “I’m sorry, I really need to take this.”
Jessica nodded.
Liz exited the living room and only took the call when she was in the other room and had closed the door behind her.
Jessica looked around the living room, but her attention focused on the sound of Liz’s voice next door. It could be anyone calling her, but Jessica tried to think of whom of her friends or family she would allow to interrupt a date with a phone call. She concluded that, barring very few exceptions, she wouldn’t pick up. Liz said she had to take this call. It pushed Jessica’s thoughts in a direction she would rather steer clear of, but that was easier said than done.
“Sorry about that.” Liz entered the living room again, all smiles. She put her phone on a bookshelf against the furthest wall. “I promise we won’t be disturbed again.” She sat down next to Jessica, but this time, left a little more space between their bodies so they didn’t touch. “I believe you were about to tell me about your coming out?”
Jessica gained some time by drinking from her wine. “Can I ask you something instead of telling you my depressing coming out story?”
“Of course.” Liz’s smile was a bit tight, as though she already knew perfectly well what Jessica wanted to ask her.
“That call you just took… Was that the agency?”
Liz’s smile grew even more thin-lipped. “It was.”
Jessica tried to look into Liz’s eyes but she couldn’t. She had to look away.
“Is that a problem?” Liz asked.
“I honestly don’t know,” Jessica said. “I guess I have a bit of a problem with it, otherwise I wouldn’t bring it up.”
Liz shook her head. “It’s normal for you to react this way, but I will tell you that I’m way past defending what I do for a living. I’m fine with what I do.”
“Have you had, er, many relationships since you started?”
Liz chuckled. “No, not really. Because, guess what? Most women seem to have a really big problem with my profession. Me being so unapologetic about it doesn’t help matters much.”
Jessica didn’t know what to say to that. She could hardly be holier than thou about it. She had met Liz because she had hired her. But Liz getting that call gave her a very different feeling—it made her feel that, even on their first real date, she already had to share Liz.
“Look.” Liz shuffled a little closer. “Even though I will never apologize for what I do, I do understand it’s difficult for other people to accept. This may be the so-called oldest profession in the world, but it comes with more preconceptions and judgement than anything else.” Liz looked at Jessica’s knee first before she put her hand back where it had been before she had received the call. “If you don’t want this date to continue—and I’ll understand if that’s the case—there will be no hard feelings, I promise. Although I will be disappointed, of course.” She cocked her head and shot Jessica a quick grin. “For the record, I like you a lot and I would very much like for it to continue.” Her thumb pushed into Jessica’s thigh. “We’re going to need very clear communication from the beginning, which may take away a bit of the magic, but, let’s be honest, I think we’re going to have to bypass some of that either way simply because of how we met.”
Jessica couldn’t help herself. The warmth she’d felt when sitting in front of the TV with Liz the other day had remained inside her so vividly—because it contrasted so heavily with how she’d been feeling for months. She put her own hand over Liz’s. “I like you more than a lot,” she said. “And I totally agree about the very clear communication. Does that mean I can ask questions freely?”
“Yes, as long as you don’t ask for details about my clients, because you know I can’t give those.”
Jessica nodded her understanding. “That phone call you just got,” she asked, “was that to set up a date?”
“Yes.” Liz drew her lips into a half pout.
Jessica took her time to absorb the information. “A regular?” she asked after a while.
“You could say that.” Liz glanced around then reached for her glass on the coffee table, all the while keeping her hand beneath Jessica’s.
“For when?”
“Friday evening.”
“Do you often… work on weekends?”
Liz nodded. “Yes.”
“How many dates do you go on in an average week?” Jessica was starting to feel like a journalist researching a long article about the subject.
“No one week is the same, but…” Liz paused to think. “Never more than three.”
“Is that your own choice or something the agency imposes?”
“My own choice.” A small smile was starting to form around Liz’s lips.
“You said the woman you got the call about is a regular. Does that mean a weekly standing appointment?”
Liz shook her head. “No. That’s not a service I provide.”
“But if someone was to request you every week, you wouldn’t say no?”
Liz chuckled. “If someone did that, it would cost them a hell of a lot of money.”
“So? Money is no issue for these women, I presume.”
“I think I get where you’re going with this and we do have guidelines about this. Most of it we handle on instinct, and if I start to sense that a regular pattern is occurring for any other reason than the service I provide, then I take measures. I become unavailable for the client for a while. But this hardly ever happens. Yes, people are easy to fool in the short term, but long term is something else entirely. Most people know what they’re buying—and it’s not love, just temporary affection.”
“Isn’t it against some guideline for you to have invited me to your home for an actual date?”
“Not if you no longer book me.” Liz drew up her eyebrows. “Is that going to be a problem?”
Jessica burst into a chuckle. “It shouldn’t be, no.”
“Good.” Liz squeezed her knee. “I wouldn’t take your money, anyway.” She found Jessica’s gaze and their eyes met.
Jessica tried to determine the color of Liz’s eyes. They were lighter than most brown eyes she’d seen, but they also had specks of green in them.
“Enough with the twenty questions now?” Liz asked. “Are you hungry?”
“Sure.” Jessica could do with a break from receiving all those candid answers. She needed some time to digest what she’d already learned. She wasn’t hungry in the least, however.
“Let’s eat.” Liz didn’t get up immediately. Her hand remained tucked underneath Jessica’s for a few more seconds as they looked into each other eyes.
In her glance, Jessica saw much more than answers to the many questions she had. She was faced with feelings she perhaps shouldn’t have—not if she wanted to keep her life simple while she was only just beginning to build it back up. But Liz was already a big part of the rebuilding of her existence, and what was fun about a simple life, anyway?
Chapter Fifteen
“My father was very disappointed when I came out. In the true sense of the word,” Jessica said, when they’d nearly finished eating. “He wasn’t angry or blaming himself or any of the other classic reactions. It was like something I was doing to him. By the time I could make him understand that this was how I was born, too much had been broken between us. And we weren’t exactly close before.”
“And your mother?” Liz asked.
“My mother. Gosh.” Jessica huffed out some air. “By the time I came out, I hadn’t seen my mother in ten years. I called her because, for some reason, I thought she should know. She sounded as if she didn’t care much either way.”
“That’s a rough deal.”
Jessica shrugged. “By then, I didn’t care much what my mother thou
ght of me. She and my father divorced when I was five. I stayed with my father. It wasn’t my choice. I was never asked. It was just decided for me. But it was definitely the better choice. Anyone who has ever claimed that maternal instinct comes naturally to any woman who has given birth is very, very wrong. Some people are simply emotionally unfit to be parents. My mother is one of those people.”
“Jesus, Jess.” Liz put her fork down. “That sounds so horrible.”
“It’s fine. I didn’t have a bad childhood. I had the most fabulous nanny. The same one until I turned thirteen. Her name was Emily. She raised me single-handedly. And guess what? She didn’t take it as a personal affront at all when I told her I was a lesbian.” Jessica put her cutlery down as well. “Parenting is so much more than being someone’s mother or father. Emily was so much more of a parent to me than my real parents. I did have one stepmother once who took a bit of an interest, but that marriage didn’t last very long and after a while you learn to not get attached to new people in your life too quickly.”
“What happened after you turned thirteen? Why did Emily stop being your nanny?”
“My father decided I was becoming too much of a brat and sent me to boarding school.”
“Is that where you became a lesbian?” Liz asked, her voice serious but her eyes filled with glee.
Jessica burst out laughing. “Of course. No cliché has gone unexplored in my poor little rich girl’s life.” She glanced at Liz from under her lashes. “Boarding school wasn’t too bad. In fact, it was good for me. I was on many a sports team.” She waggled her eyebrows. “It helps.”
“I bet it does.” Liz winked at her. “Do you still see Emily?”
“She passed away three years ago.” Jessica’s throat still constricted at the thought of Emily no longer being there.
“I’m so sorry to hear that.” Liz sighed. She paused for a bit until she asked her next question. “Did you call your mother when you got your cancer diagnosis?”
Jessica shook her head. “I had no reason to. She wasn’t going to offer me much comfort, was she? And my father was already acting totally out of control. His only child having cancer and there was nothing his money could do about it. Another notch on the disappointment belt.”
“Surely he wasn’t disappointed because you fell ill.”
“I’m pretty sure he was, although, this time, he didn’t say as much. Not like when my company went bust or I came out. Or I wasn’t born as a boy. Or at the very least wasn’t a more respectable heir.”
“Sounds like there’s some bad blood there.”
Jessica shrugged. “It’s better now. He’s been quite different, actually. He’s pushing seventy-five. I guess that’s an age that makes you think about things a little differently.”
“Maybe. He’s not thinking about retiring yet?”
“He’ll die working. He’ll never stop. Actually, I think it would be bad for him to stop. What would he do? He loves what he does now, so why stop?”
“I do agree. If you enjoy your work, why retire?”
“Does that mean you don’t always enjoy your work? You are thinking of retiring?” Jessica didn’t feel like talking about her family any longer.
“My case is different. Some jobs are not meant to be done for life. Imagine me dying on the job.” Her lips formed into a smile, but it wasn’t reflected in her eyes.
“That would be a tough one.”
“Without wanting to romanticize my job, I do enjoy it. It’s very sociable and I like to be around people. It puts me in touch with some very interesting characters. And I have much more sex than most.”
“If you put it like that.” Jessica took a quick drink.
“But just like any profession, there are down sides. No job is all plus sides. Life isn’t like that. We all have to make compromises.”
Jessica peered into her wine glass. Another pressing question had taken hold of her, but she didn’t know how to ask it.
“Come on then,” Liz said. “Out with it. I’m ready for a second round of twenty questions, although I would appreciate it if we could keep it to only ten this time.” She pushed her plate a little farther on the table and leaned her elbows on the tabletop.
“It’s a silly question, really.”
“Did no one ever teach you that there’s no such thing as a silly question?” Liz asked.
“No, I was raised on real talk and that’s just bullshit. At least that’s what my father would say.”
“Well, I’m sure your question is perfectly valid. Come on. Let me have it.”
“Okay.” Jessica took her wine glass in her hands. It made her feel less vulnerable. “When you’re with a client. In bed. Do you ever, er…”
“Yes?” Liz asked.
“You know. Come.” A hot flush crept up Jessica’s cheeks.
“Sure.” Liz sent her a smile. “It really depends on the situation. Some women really get off on that. If the vibe between us is right, I do sometimes let go. Although mostly I do have to fake it. There are so many different scenarios. But it has happened, although it’s definitely not part of my job description.” Her smile widened. “Now can I ask you a question?”
“It would be pretty rude to say no at this point.” Jessica mirrored Liz’s smile.
“What happened when you had Laurel over? Did you insist on making her come?”
The previous blush had scarcely faded before Jessica’s cheeks were again engulfed in hotness. “Well, er, I didn’t insist,” she stammered. “But I did try. Although I’ll never know whether she faked it or not.”
“Interesting.” Liz sat there nodding as though she had just uncovered a hidden truth about Jessica.
“It’s really not that interesting.”
“Oh, it is.” Under the table, Jessica felt Liz’s shin slide against hers. “Can I interest you in some dessert? I make the lightest chocolate mousse you’ll ever taste,” she said.
“That’s a bold claim to make.” Jessica let her leg lean into Liz’s. She was glad for the break in their conversation. Her cheeks needed some urgent cooling off.
“I’ve just realized I may have said that to the wrong person. Does your father have a pastry chef?”
“Nope. Edward Porter is not a dessert man.”
“Well, then. Let’s see if I can impress you.”
“This was delicious, by the way.” Jessica grabbed her plate and started to rise.
“No, no, no. Please remain seated. Or stretch your legs, if you like. But there’s no need to help.” Liz quickly rose, and took the plate from Jessica’s hand. “The kitchen is a right old mess. I want you as far away from there as possible.”
“Ah, that explains it.” Jessica sat down again and leaned back in her chair. “I’ll stay in the safe zone then.”
“If you want to feel useful, you can always pour us some more wine,” Liz said and disappeared into the kitchen.
Jessica refilled their glasses and rehashed all the things that had been said. No matter the oddity of the subjects, Liz was still so easy to talk to. She had so much confidence, she made up for what Jessica lacked right now.
“Has the person who invented the dishwasher ever received a Nobel Prize?” Liz sauntered back into the living room. “Because no greater service has ever been done to humankind.” She carried two low glasses filled to the brim with chocolate mousse. “Here you go, Madam. Did you want coffee or tea with that?”
“Wine will be fine,” Jessica said.
“Here’s to a wonderful date.” Liz picked up her wine glass.
Jessica joined her in the toast. It might be an unusual date, but that didn’t make Jessica feel any less special when she was in Liz’s company.
Chapter Sixteen
They were back on the couch, steadily working their way through the second bottle of wine. Jessica was contemplating calling in sick at work the next day. It was only her third day back, but no one would bat an eyelid if she did. Someone would probably tell her father—he had spies in a
ll departments—and then she’d have to deal with him. She actually preferred him a bit more aloof than the worried persona he had adopted since she’d gotten sick.
“I can’t believe I have to go to work tomorrow.” Jessica heeled off her shoes and stretched her legs onto the ottoman. “You also made me eat too much. I need to lie down.”
“Don’t get too comfortable.” Liz scooted next to her and stretched her legs as well. “I still need to give you a tour of the premises.”
“Ah yes, your art collection. Maybe we can save it for next time. Yours will make mine look like child’s play, anyway.”
“Are you kidding? You have a Robert Barrow hanging in your hallway. Not even in the living room; in the hallway of all places.”
“For that welcoming feeling.”
“More like intimidating.” Liz leaned into her.
“Only if you’re in the know.”
Jessica felt Liz nod next to her. “So,” she said after a beat. “The hour is getting late and the lady is getting tired.” She put a hand on Jessica’s thigh. “Can I put you down for a second date or do you need to get back to me on that?”
“Is this your way of sending me home?” Jessica asked.
“Goodness, no.” Liz turned to her. “You just look as though you might fall asleep any minute now.”
Jessica sighed. “My stamina needs a little work. It has taken a bit of a hit lately.” She tried to square her shoulders. “But it’s just a post-dinner slump. I’ll get a second wind in a bit.”
“Pity we can’t watch some of The Kramers to pass the time,” Liz joked.
“Exactly what I was going to say.” Jessica slid her hand underneath Liz’s and intertwined their fingers. “Whatever will we do to make time go faster?”
“Seeing as this is, technically, our first date, our options are limited, I guess.” Liz grinned.
