My Expectation (My Escort Series Book 3)

by Kia Carrington-Russell

  As I paid the cab driver and began to walk into the stunning building of Be True magazine my phone began to vibrate. I awkwardly pulled it from my clutch as I balanced my laptop bag and purse.

  “Clover speaking,” I said fixing the strap of my laptop bag.

  “Hey Clover, its Juliet.” Juliet was a fellow columnist. Although in different departments, we offered one another ideas and suggestions and were both well known for our articles that contributed to the magazine. She was the main columnist for the Relationship and Sex section. I had to admit, I learnt a few things from her that I decided to apply to the bedroom, which Damon happily enjoyed.

  “Hey, is everything okay?” I asked as I walked into the building where it was much cooler. She sounded slightly panicked.

  “Hey, I am sorry to ask this of you but I was unsure of who else to ask,” she began.

  “Anything, just let me know what’s wrong and how I can help,” I said greeting the front receptionists.

  “I have an interview with Lila Spouse, she is a new and popular psychologist in Manhattan. The problem is my flight has been delayed in Los Angeles because of the weather down here and I am not going to make it in time. I’d ask for a reshuffle, but it was hard enough to pin her down for that time slot today.”

  “What about Tina?” I asked, thinking of the second columnist in that department. Damon had also recently advertised for a second travel columnist so I could do some local destinations as well to help with my jetlag. I loved my job but I didn’t mind staying in one place for a month or two at a time. Most sections had a secondary or even third columnist to help with the volume of the printed magazine and smaller online articles.

  “She’s on holiday until next Monday. I swear I already have the questions. If you could just interview her and take notes for me, I would be so grateful.” I could just imagine her holding her hands together tightly as she always did when begging me for something. I waited outside the elevator door before stepping in and our phone conversation being interrupted by bad reception. My own deadlines were approaching but most of my work was already complete. I looked over the receptionist and at the large clock behind their desk. It was still early. Most staff here didn’t flood in until another hour. “Please Clover.”

  I let out a small sigh with a smile. “I can do that, just email it through and let me know what time she will be in. I will email through the notes straight after so you can start on the piece then.”

  “Thank you so much!” She beamed. “And please don’t forget to-”

  “Get a photo or two. I got it,” I mused. I had covered for her twice before. She was still young in some sense. I was lenient on her however because she put so much forward for the magazine. She always made sure the job was done.

  “You are the best Clover. Thank you so much! Okay I will send them through now,” she said as quickly as she hung up. I placed the phone back in my purse with a smile as I stepped into the elevator. I hit my floor number and waited patiently for the doors to close. As the elevator jolted my stomach felt as if it dropped. I pressed my fingers to my lips at the ill feeling that shot through me. I took an easy breath smiling at my own pale reflection. Perhaps I should’ve eaten my entire meal. I slightly amused myself feeling as if I were in my university years again, where I hardly ate and only studied. Well to be more precise, I mostly drank alongside Hayden.

  I found it at times lonely when he went back to Ithaca for his own business. He was only in the office now and then. I usually forced him to do errands for me and deliver things to my mother and sister, Megan. He made a comment last time about not minding that I had forced him into being an errand boy. He even tried to say that Megan abused him in the same sense because he came back with items for me every time. The worst was when she forced him to bring back a casserole dish of my mother’s home cooking.

  I often wondered if anything had happened between my sister and him, although I had once put a ban on him trying anything on my sister, I realized that after all these years somethings are inevitable. Despite him denying that there was anything there, I questioned. My sister wore the same poker face that he did as well. It was ironic that they seemed perfect for one another in every way.

  As always I was the first to arrive. The office hardly ever changed except with the promotional posters and cut-outs of the current month’s edition. I walked around the receptionist table and around the few lounges for guests which were there. I walked to the furthest door in the corner which was my office. I opened the door and switched the light on. Like always, I walked around my wooden desk and placed my laptop bag on the table. I looked through the clear windows with admiration for the busy lifestyle of Manhattan. I thrived from having the moment to myself and enjoying the view.

  Only moments later I had made myself coffee and was typing busily away at my desk planning my next trip. This trip wouldn’t be published until another four editions. I had already submitted a few which had been pre-approved unless something more timely and relevant to the season came. Even then these were always used for online pieces.

  Before I knew it most of my colleagues had arrived and were greeting me. I was apprehensive at first about my relationship with Damon being open to the public. I didn’t want anyone to deny my hard work and thought that because I was dating Damon Brogardt some would insinuate that was how I got my job. Much to my surprise no one questioned it nor did they treat me differently. At work Damon and I were professional, even at functions that I attended with him I felt at ease. It was a completely different atmosphere to the one at Candice and Clive to which I was so used to.

  I looked at the clock and printed off Juliet’s questions. I made myself acquainted with the point of the article and what angle she was trying to pitch. The questions were basic but with the right answer it would be a very in depth article. Simply it was questioning the allure of mystery men and if too much mystery was an issue. It sounded to me like women were insecure in their relationships with such a man and that came down to trust, but I was intrigued with what advise Lila Spouse had. There were some more in depth questions and plenty of time and room for me to freely ask extras if I felt they would benefit Juliet’s article. At the bottom of her notes she had ‘Thank you so much’ with a smiley written.

  I smiled at her youthfulness and hit print making my way over to the printer. I checked the batteries in my voice recorder and tidied my desk. Not that much had to be cleaned. Although a columnist and previous journalist, I couldn’t shake that slight nervous feeling of touching a topic which I hadn’t yet before. It was rather exciting and I looked forward to meeting and interviewing Lila Spouse.

  Chapter Four

  Lila Spouse was a mid-fifties radiant woman who looked younger by ten years. Despite my assumption of her being younger, because she is now the ‘new best thing’, I instantly had respect for her as I learnt of her background and how she became at the top of her profession. We clicked straight away, still maintaining the interview in a professional manner. I always wanted to know my interviewees a little bit more before I continued with the questions.

  We were both comfortably sitting in one of the spare offices which was often held for interviews. We both had coffee in hand as I checked a few times that the recorder was still working. Mrs. Spouse was very accommodating and gleeful despite me not being her initial interviewer. I was grateful for that, not all interviewees were okay with such shifts. I looked over the questions once again, finishing off my notes from her previous comments.

  “Now Mrs. Spouse, we are talking in regard to relationships and the appeal of mysterious men. We want to know if it is possible that there is too much mystery and should that be a cause for concern,” I asked professionally as I crossed my legs in my pencil skirt.

  “There has always been the allure of mystery men. I simply think this generation has mixed it with a fantasy of sorts. I definitely think that it is something women should be concerned about instead of searching for,” Lila Spouse said with an edge
that reminded me she was older. “The point of a relationship, marriage and so forth is to be built on trust. It is true that men withhold more emotions and struggle more than women to express themselves, but I don’t think that value should ever be compromised.”

  “So you think women actively search for this,” I asked prompting into the next question.

  “Unfortunately, yes. It depends on the woman. Some women have low self-esteem and they believe that they don’t deserve any answers or anything better. It’s the typical ‘bad boy’ scenario for some and then you have head strong women who are intrigued and see it as a challenge.” I pondered this for a moment, in a sense she had stereotyped three different but common traits amongst women.

  “Okay so what would you say the signs are that you might be endeared by a ‘mystery man’?” I said intrigued by the answer. I didn’t read these sort of columns or articles myself very often but during the interview, I couldn’t help but be intrigued. This was genuine advice for many women who read our magazine. I had heard how fierce the search for love in Manhattan was from my friend Cassidy.

  “It’s very simple. Were there lies from the start that you identified straight away but put aside?” Suddenly the image of Damon came to me and I became aware of my own relationship in this conversation. I couldn’t help but consider that Damon had first come to me as an escort, not his position in the Candice and Clive magazine. I dismissed the connection because I knew it was research for his articles as ‘Anonymous’. As a writer myself, I knew that it was important research for him.

  “Do you find yourself justifying and creating excuses on their behalf, to convince yourself that it is okay?” I kept my personal emotions bottled but my heart suddenly began to race as that was literally what I have just done. I tried not to focus on it as I continued to write notes down. Suddenly I felt vulnerably open to her and insecure.

  “Are you finding that you are only getting their attention part of the time and that they are rejecting you, but when they relapse with attention you dismiss your initial doubt?” Lila continued. I thought of the first time Damon had truly rejected me. It was when we were in the Bahamas and the first time we had become intimate towards one another unable to pull away from the chemistry any longer. He pulled away and left me partly naked in the wine shack by the beach. I continued to write it down trying to ignore it. He had his reasons and insecurities.

  I stopped writing for a second as I realized again that I was creating an excuse and justifying Damon’s actions. He had hurt me, but it was old now, it was past us. We have moved on since then. I couldn’t be so petty as to resent him now for it only because I found myself questioning it in a new light. I trust Damon. I couldn’t doubt that I didn’t have all of his attention, but I was fine with that, we both were. We both had busy schedules and jobs.

  “Is there lack of talk about the future? Plans that you might want to be discussing but feel isn’t the right time or haven’t yet been able to?”

  I suddenly felt nauseous and pressed my finger to my lips as a swell of vomit tried to rise. Why was I reacting in such a way?

  “Are you okay Miss. Granture?” Lila asked me. I shook my head and placed a steady smile.

  “Apologies, I think something I ate today has upset my stomach but I am fine. Please continue,” I said professionally. But I didn’t want her to continue. For some reason she had placed so much insecurity in my mind. Damon and I had moved in together six months ago, that was a huge leap for the both of us. We hadn’t really discussed much more since then, but that was because we were busy. All relationships moved at different paces. I knew he was faithful to me. My head tugged into different directions as I found myself both agreeing with Lila Spouse but defending my own relationship. I was frustrated as to why I was even in this sudden turmoil, never had I taken on such an unprofessional nature in an interview. Not that Lila noticed.

  “Women are mystified by this breed of men, but the ground rule is, if there is no trust or any breakdown in communication from the start, this will only ripple through any sort of relationship one might have with them. There are issues that need to be tackled straight away. If these ‘mystery men’,” Lila did bunny ears, “truly cared for a woman then they would fight their own struggles and be more open in their thoughts.”

  “But isn’t the point of a relationship to also be open minded and change to accommodate for the differences,” I said calmly. She didn’t hesitate to respond to my answer. I was professional and it seemed like an appropriate question to ask. Little did she realize I was in turmoil as I spoke out of my own accord, I was seriously defending this assumption of my own relationship. I was internally beating myself up with hatred for even being in this thought process to begin with.

  “It is, but isn’t the point of this interview to help women identify these men and future issues?” She countered. “From a psychological perspective I find women who are in relationships like this often mute themselves. They become used to the breakdown and lack of communication if they are in a longer lasting relationship, or they often leave them within months frustrated because they can’t get, or should I say ‘feel’ as if they are getting closer to them.”

  “Every relationship is different,” she continued. “I just think that women should consider these ‘mystery men’ because it is both encouraging men to stay quiet about their emotions in today’s society as it is appealed as more ‘sexy’ and that fundamentally it is encouraging issues with trust and communication. Things like these can lead to cheating, secret lives and other secrets of their past that the woman might want to know. I cannot stress enough how much communication is always everything, especially in a man that you are considering a long-term relationship with. To be with someone for so long, it will change you, you want to hope your time and investment is to change you for the better.”

  Lila looked down at my notepad expectantly. I hurriedly wrote down what she said embarrassed that I had stopped writing in the first place. My mind was in shambles. I was angry at myself that I let every word of hers sink into my bone. I continued dismissing it as we continued our interview but that nauseous feeling continued through the entire interview, and I hated that my body was telling me that something was wrong.

  What I hated more was that suddenly, although everything was going seemingly perfect, I had doubts about mine and Damon’s relationship and all that we stood for. Had I been delusional this entire time? I swatted that idea away. We were happy and I loved him. And yet, that knotting feeling in my stomach continued. Were there any more secrets Damon could be hiding from me, he had after all had so many from the start?

  Chapter Five

  My mood plummeted over the next few days. I tried my hardest not to show him my uneasiness before he left for a conference in Los Angeles for a few nights, but he wasn’t fooled. I was able to deter him to think it was my concern for something my sister, Megan has been muddled up with. What made me feel worse was that I was lying about it, and that he instantly offered help in any way he could. I had never felt so ugly before and hated myself for the mixed emotions I felt, all because of one woman’s judgement on relationships. I pondered over my doubtful thoughts, trying to push them away and justify the saner thoughts. Yet I only fumed. My appetite was gone and I became broody. I hated it. I was never so ugly.

  I was busily typing away on my laptop, exhaling deeply as another knot tied in my stomach. I wanted to vomit. I hesitated to grab my bin as the nauseous feeling went away. Why had I cornered myself into this emotional turmoil? Why was I stressing over something that wasn’t even there, to the point where it was making me physically ill?

  “You’re awfully pale and ghost-like today,” Hayden said interrupting me from my thoughts. I shot up from my chair startled. I didn’t even hear him come in. He eased his hands in a calm manner. “Woah, no reason to be so jumpy. Is everything alright Clover?”

  “Sorry, I’m just. . .” I trailed off in disappointment. Why was I reflecting on this so much, sure
ly I wasn’t becoming emotionally unstable? “Never mind, when did you get back?” I asked, realigning myself and my usual confident self. I walked to him and hugged him. His broad shoulders and cologne were now familiar to me and put me at ease.

  “This afternoon.” He leaned back slightly so he could look down at me. He measured me for a moment. Despite what most people thought of Hayden he was very perceptive. “Clover are you sure everything is okay?”

  “Of course it is,” I smiled. “I’ve just been feeling a bit off lately.”

  “I’ll say, you never hug me for this long,” he teased. I pulled away in embarrassment. I felt foolish, like a child clingy to their safety blanket. Hayden and I had been friends for a long time and although time had come between our friendship from our university days, we were now close again. I was grateful that the jealousy Damon once harbored for him was no longer there. We all comfortably got along.

  “Maybe I missed you,” I retorted in a teasing manner.

  “Hardly, more like your mother’s casserole she forced me to bring down,” he said ruffling his blonde hair.

  “Really? I thought you vowed never again because you thought she was trying to domesticate you?” I teased remembering his rant over a beer at the regular bar we often visited.

  “It wasn’t your mother. You’re damn sister is pushy and I swear if given the chance she would break my arm to prove a point,” he said slightly annoyed. I smiled at him. He rolled his eyes at me with a knowing gleam. “I told you, your sister and I aren’t going to happen.”

  “I didn’t say a word,” I mused. I walked back around to my desk slightly relieved by the distraction. I felt like I had color once again. I needed to be distracted until this midlife crises of insecurities left me for good.

  “You and her are as cruel as each other,” he bashfully said. “I’ll be walking out in an hour. Tell your domesticated boyfie I am stealing you away for a beer and a bowl of unhygienic bar nuts. Unless he wants to come and then I will destroy him at pool.”