by Mia Moore
“Annik.Wow! You look great in that suit. Yes, I'm alone.”
“Why don't you join me? I just got here and placed my order.” Relief at seeing a friend she could talk to, competed with admiration and love for this man.
Confused, she watched as he patted his hands on his chest, the area over his jacket’s inside pocket. Then his trouser pockets. “Sorry, can't. Didn't bring my checkbook tonight.” He chuckled, before a wide grin appeared on his face.
Silence between the two of them grew at the speed of light. Her face was reproachful. His was blank, almost confused.
“Fuck you.” She said softly, looking him directly in the eye. What a shitty thing to say. She had tried to put together a good business plan, present it to the bank and that pig Bernie…but it all boiled down to the same truth. She was just a whore. Thanks Tom, thanks a lot.
His head tilted back as if from a slap. His face took on a look of affront—even anger. “Hey, Annik, can’t you take a joke?”
“Fuck you, Tom Eldon. I’m sorry I invited you. Get lost.” She turned to stare out the window. She would not let him see her eyes tear up. For him to say such a shitty thing. On this of all evenings, too. Dammit.
“Didn't we do that last Saturday night or are you drumming up business for tonight?” He stalked away to the table the Maitre’d had waiting.
Once more anger and frustration flooded through her. And hurt. Et Tu, Tom? The woman at the bank had been the most understanding and supportive person she had dealt with all day. And she hadn't expected that at all.
And now here she was. Bernie had been rude. But Tom... Because of their friendship, that remark had come out of left field, well below her expectations of him. She picked her cell phone from her purse and dialed his number. Glancing towards his table, she saw him reach into his jacket and retrieve his phone. He read the call display and scowled.
“Yes?” Icicles were warmer than the tone of his voice.
“I asked you to join me for dinner. Would you have said the same thing to your accountant or lawyer if they had asked you to join them?” The bastard. Couldn’t he see how he had cut her to the quick with his ‘joke’?
Silence loomed on the phone. For a moment, she wondered if he had hung up. A quick glimpse showed that he still held the phone to his ear.
“You want to know the truth, Annik? I’ve said that same comment to my lawyer, okay? And he laughed.”
“What you said hurt me, Tom. It hurt me bad.”
Across the dining room, she saw his head jerk up.
“And in a moment—and there haven’t been many Tom, but in a moment, when what I needed most was someone to give a shit.” She snapped her phone shut. This time the tears flowed. She had to get the hell out of here, now. She began to collect her things.
“Hey.” Tom stood next to her table.
“What?”
“I also went through university with my lawyer. We’ve known each other for almost forty years. But I’d never say such a thing to my accountant, you know.”
“Still stinging, Tom.” What was the point of that? Got to get out of here…
“Let me finish. You’re as important a friend to me as someone I’ve known that long, Annik.”
She glanced up, saw him press his lips together. He seemed to come to some sort of a decision as he looked away briefly…
“You’re more important a friend to me. I’m so sorry it hurt. Honest.”
She looked silently up at him. More than a childhood friendship? Do you know what you’re saying Tom? Do you mean that? Oh please…
“Miss Dandridge, I apologize for my rudeness. Is the offer still open?”
“Only, if you let me buy dinner. I don't want there to be any misunderstanding of my intentions.” She snapped in reply.
“Ouch. I deserved that. May I join you Annik?”
He did look a trifle sheepish.
“Yes, Tom, I would like some company. It's been a day.”
“Bad day eh? Tell me about it. It may make you feel better.” He took a seat across from her.
“Tom, I’ve had a dream for a few years and today I learned it’s just a pipe dream.” She poured out her story and the day’s episodes, which ended her dream of Pandora’s.
Tears welled in her eyes. The bank’s no was one thing, but her episode with Bernie still stung. She blinked them away, inhaled deeply, composing herself.
“Annik I'm hurt.”
“What? How can you be hurt? I’m the one whose dreams were shot to hell.”
“Why didn’t you come to me for help with this? You know I have money and contacts.”
“I didn’t want to go to clients, Tom. It's not good to mix pleasure with pleasure. I mean business... Oh… you know what I'm getting at.”
“You went to that Bernie guy, right? And he’s a client?”
“Yeah, but that’s his business.”
“I’ve invested in businesses, too. And you know it. Remember that coffee shop thing?”
“Oh, the one that crashed and burned? Yeah, I remember that. And you said, “Don’t do business with your friends”, didn’t you?”
“Well, I should have said ‘some’ friends, then. You’re not ‘just a friend’.” He looked into her eyes, searching it seemed, for her reaction to that statement.
The waiter approached and Tom ordered the house special, a Scotch for himself and another drink for her. She heard what Tom had said and was still reeling, but maintained composure. It was probably just a slip or something on his part. Even so, her heart had sang when he said it.
“Okay, let me get this straight. I’m your client, so you don't feel right approaching your client for help, yet you will go to a stranger for help. Who is also a client? What the hell is that? Does he have a better brownie recipe or something? You go to this Bernie clown, but not me?”
She paused, caught up in his blue eyes which had never before flashed in anger at her. Oh Tom, you have no idea how much ‘friends’ we are. I would never impose that way. I look forward too much for your call, or email, or anything. Oh Tom… if you only knew… Her eyes began to glisten.
“Is that it, Annik? I’m not good enough? Is that it, then? I’m too old or something? Thanks a lot.”
She stood up. The tears, the goddamn tears, from this goddamn day! She had to get the hell out of here. She fumbled with her purse, took a wad of bills out and threw them on the table.
“You’re good enough, Mister. You’re too goddamn good enough. You’re my friend, Tom. And I guess,” Her breath caught, “I guess you’re right. I’m just a whore. I love being your whore, and I can’t risk that friendship and become a business partner. I have to go, Tom. I have to…” and she fled from the restaurant, almost knocking over their waiter carrying dinner.
Tom stood and gestured to the waiter. “Here’s the money. Keep it warm. If we’re not back in five minutes, wrap it to go. If we’re not back in ten, enjoy your meal,” He ran out the door.
The pop, pop, pop of Annik’s heels on the hard sidewalk was the melody of her heart breaking. Damn you Tom Eldon. God damn you! Sure, let’s run a business together. Let me see you on a regular basis and get all confused as to who pays who what? Yeah, great. And then, let’s make Pandora’s take off, and let you meet The Woman, and let me stand there in the background and watch you and her do that magical dance of D/s… sure Tom. Let’s just go ahead and just break my heart even more you bastard. Sure Tom…
She felt a firm grip on her shoulder, stopping her, spinning her around.
“WHAT is your goddamn problem, Annik Dandridge?” Tom took her by her shoulders. “What the hell is your problem, woman?”
“YOU’RE MY PROBLEM!”
“What the hell is THAT supposed to mean?” He looked more confused than angry. And there was more in his face… “How am I a problem, Annik? How the hell am I a problem? I’m trying to help you realize your goddamn dream you jerk!”
“BECAUSE YOU’RE YOU!” She started to sob. Because I can’t eve
n begin to dream of being with you. Because…
“And I’m you’re whore. And I don’t wanna be you’re whore. Because you’re you!”
They stood there on the sidewalk, his hands still on her shoulders, tears coursing down her cheeks. There. I said it. Now he’ll say something like he wished it was different, and that will be that and I can go home.
“Let me get this straight, you’re upset because I’m me.”
She nodded.
“But there’s more, right?”
Another silent, leaky nod.
“And that more, is that you feel strongly about me?”
A slow, wide eyed, leaky nod.
“But you’re my whore?”
An eyes closed nod.
“Annik Dandridge, Escort without Equal, look at me.” Her eyes opened. “In light of this information, I have only one choice. A choice I have been too chicken shit to attempt up until this moment. I need to inform you that all the moments we have spent together so far are inadequate for my needs. Do you understand?”
She shook her head, puzzled, no, not at all.
“I have no choice in this matter, Annik. In order to advance, I must end this. Annik Dandridge, Escort, you’re fired.”
Her face went still.
He released her shoulders and wrapped her in his arms. Cupping her chin in his hand, he turned her face. All she could see was his eyes, those beautiful, blue eyes.
“Annik, I want more with you. Would you consider being my girlfriend?” he asked. And kissed her.
Standing on that unfeeling concrete, feeling his mouth on hers, his hunger, his love course from him to her, she kissed him.
And came home.
Chapter 13
They had kissed before. Many, many times. But this was their first kiss, their first real kiss. No longer Patron and Escort, but lovers. It lasted forever, neither one wanting it to stop. They stood there, on the cold sidewalk, melting into each other. In their world, an eternity passed.
Their kiss was finally broken by the rumbling of their stomachs. They looked at each other, and laughed.
“Let’s go back to dinner, what do you say?” Tom asked.
“Yeah. Good idea.” This was so unexpected. Her mind whirled. But in an absolutely wonderful way.
Hand in hand, they returned to the restaurant. The waiter had kept their meals warm, and served them as soon as they were seated. They stared at each other, enjoying the silence, both grinning like fools. The aroma from their dinners broke the silence—their stomachs growling in unison.
She watched him smile, take his napkin, and start to eat. They were starving, continuing their enraptured gaze, lost in these moments of wonder. With each draught of drink, their eyes washed over one another. Finishing their meal, they both sat back relaxed.
Tom spoke first.
“Oh wow.”
She nodded, “Wow’s the word.”
“Are you sure, Annik?”
She looked off to the side, thinking. “Yes I am. I’ve dreamed of this, but I never let myself get caught up in those dreams…”
“You’ve dreamed of this?” he laughed. “I’ve dreamed of this too. But I couldn’t dare to take a chance until I thought I was going to lose you. I… I…” He stopped. “Wait a minute—YOU dreamed of this too? And I never saw a single sign.” He leaned back in his seat, “you sure know how to keep your cards close to your chest.” He grinned at her.
“Oh really? Oh really, Tom? Look who’s talking! I keep MY cards close? I never picked up a single vibe from you that you wanted me as a woman and not just as your Escort up until just out there.” she finished, pointing to the restaurant’s door. “And I’m supposed to have woman’s intuition on MY side.” She scowled in fake frustration.
“Yeah, we’re both really good at protecting our hearts, eh?” he said quietly.
She nodded. “Yes. Could you make me a promise? Can you promise me that you won’t keep your cards as close when it comes to us? How much time have we wasted?” She shook her head. “How much time has been wasted?”
“Not a damn second. We weren’t ready for this until now.”
“But we’ve known each other for three years. We could have been…”
“I wasn’t ready three years ago. I wasn’t ready last week, sweetheart—wow, that rolled off my tongue so easily. Hell, Annik, I don’t think I was ready until I WAS ready. And you know what? I don’t think you were either. And I think that if we tried it before right now, we’d have screwed it up.” He reached across the table and took her hand. “I’m scared to death. I won’t play that card close again, okay? I’m… I’m so much OLDER than you.”
She was surprised, and her eyes showed it. “What?”
“I’m forty-eight. You’re thirty-two. I’m sixteen years older than you, girl.”
“What?”
“In ten years, I’ll be fifty-eight. In twenty, I’ll be sixty-eight. Do the math. You’re in your prime, and I’m middle aged.”
“Oh. I see.”
Still holding her hand, he said, “Look, if you’ve just realized that, no harm, no foul, okay? That was the reason I never tried to make it more between us, you know. Where could this go? I can’t even have kids. And at my age, that’s probably a good thing, but I’m OLD Annik.”
“I see.” She gazed at him in silence. He was worried about the age difference? It had never crossed her mind.
Tom appeared taken aback by her placid demeanor. “What?” he asked, “You’re pretty damn quiet. What are you thinking?”
“I’m reflecting on how a man like you could be so very smart and so very stupid at the same time.” She said, her smile broadening. “That’s a stupid thing to worry about. How about worrying about the sky falling or something?” She clutched his hand and pulled it to her. “It’s not an issue for me. To tell you the truth, our age difference was an attraction for me.”
“What?” His face showed startled surprise.
“You see, the best relationship I ever saw in my life was that of my Mamma and Poppa. And Poppa was twenty years older than Mamma.” She started to sing a ditty softly “I wanna boy just like the boy that married dear old Maaa…” and giggled. “You’re not getting off that easily, Mister Eldon. You’re HOT.”
She took his hand and sucked on his index finger, her eyes on his as she pushed her mouth up and down.
“You telling me the truth, baby?” squeaked Tom—comforted and aroused at the same time.
“Um hmmm…” she said, not stopping.
“You actually like the fact that I’m so much older than you?”
Annik went down on his finger even more, “mmm…,” wetly caressing it with her lips and tongue. She pulled his finger away with a ‘pop’. “Yes, Tom, I find your age a big attraction. A turn on if you want to know the truth. I don’t know exactly—maybe it’s someone to watch over me or something. All I know,” she continued to stroke his finger, “is that I like it. I really, really like it.”
Even if she was lying—and Tom knew she wasn’t—it was a wonderful thing for him to hear.
“Hey… let’s get one thing out of the way, okay? Let me see the proposal you showed those other people today.”
She knew he was going to have to look at her Pandora’s dream sooner or later. This was important to her. Besides, the businessman in him was probably curious as hell.
She opened her briefcase, pulled out a folder and handed it to him. He opened it, and scanned the first page.
He looked up at her, “The revenue’s light, honey.”
She handed him the second folder showing her projections when she would expand the business. As he scanned these pages, he looked up at her once more and said “Who did these for you?”
“Me.”
“Um… there’s an acronym here—G A A P—you know what that means?”
“Yes, Generally Accepted Accounting Principles. I ran my numbers using them. I learned them when I went to College for business, and I applied them here. I kne
w I was going to be dealing with professionals and I wanted my numbers to stand up.” She smiled, “and when I ran them, and they stood up so well, I did a happy dance.”
He looked over the paperwork in his hands, “Okay, but man, the capital investment. Pandora’s worth a fortune.”
“The building needs a lot of work, Tom. I don’t have that full number.”
“Even so, you’re going to have to float probably three to five mil just to buy the place.”
“One point five to two at the most.”
“C’mon, baby, that’s crazy cheap—sure if you just want the land.”
“Nope. Not crazy. It’s the truth. The owners will sell in that range.”
“How the hell can you be so sure, honey? That’s a killer price.”
With a flourish, she reached into her briefcase for the third folder. With head held high, grinning like a Cheshire cat, she pulled out the agreement between herself and the Vanderbergs and presented it to him. “How’s this, Sir?” she asked sweetly.
He took the document and read it, growing very still. He looked for the waiter, caught his eye, and then waved him over to their table like a third base coach urging a runner in. The waiter scurried over.
“Champagne. The best bottle in the cellar. Pronto.” The waiter flew away to fetch the seven hundred dollar bottle the owner had been sitting on for two years. He returned in a moment as the two lovers silently appraised each other. He placed the glasses in front of them, uncorked the wine and poured.
“Thank you very much. We’ll look after it now.” Tom tore his glance away from Annik long enough to signal to the waiter that he was no longer needed.
“You wouldn’t believe how many meetings like this I take Annik. Yeah, the coffee shop thingy crashed and burned, sure. I told you that story. It was funny, in just how bad everything went.” He smiled. “But I didn’t lose a penny in that deal, okay? The tax write off alone made me money at the end of my fiscal year. And that’s the only deal I ever told you about.” The glasses stood on the table, the effervescence in the flutes mirroring their joy.
“But, honey, I’ve had more than my share of home runs. A lot more. Let me tell you something straight, I’ve adored you for quite some time, and I’ll get to that in a moment. I’ve always, always respected you.” He took her files and stacked them. “This is a grand slam proposal. You got everything here…”
