Honor Roll

by Collins, Kelly

  At eleven o’clock, I put a smiling Diane in a cab and sent her home. As far as work “dates” went, this was by far one of the most enjoyable I’d had in a while ... and to think, I would have chosen smallpox over a date with Diane months ago. I stepped out of my comfort zone and went the extra mile to make someone happy, and that felt good. I rubbed the worn side of my coin and smiled. Things were looking up.

  When I got home, I texted Mim.

  You make me happy. I miss you.

  Love, Luca

  Several minutes went by with no reply. I readied myself for bed. When my phone beeped, I spat out the toothpaste and ran for it.

  I was just falling asleep, hoping for a wet dream about you.

  Love, Mim

  I loved that we had graduated to ending our messages with affection.

  Sorry to wake you. Go back to sleep and dream, baby.

  Love, Luca xoxo

  She must have dozed because I didn’t hear back from her. I fell asleep wishing that I’d dream about Mim and the way her breast fit perfectly in my hand. The way her palm felt sliding over my hardness. The way I knew it would feel when I finally made love to her.

  Chapter 10

  It was just before nine, and I was at Mim’s door with tea and a smile. I wanted to spend every moment we could together. She had managed to wind herself around my heart, and I needed her like I needed air. She was the only thing that made sense in my crazy world, and yet nothing about her or us made sense.

  She let me in the door and walked me upstairs. Her eyes drooped from sleepiness, and her hair lay in tangles, but I’d never seen anything more stunning in my life. Every time I saw her, I fell a little more in love with her, making me want her so much. We’d hugged, and kissed, and cuddled, and even though she’d indicated she wanted more, I always made some excuse to leave when things became a bit too hot. She had started to call me altar boy, a nickname far from the truth.

  Today, I escaped with the lame excuse that she had papers to grade for Saunders and I had a phone call to make.

  I kissed her on the doorstep and bounced with happiness to the subway. I was ticking off my debt by thousand-dollar increments. My girlfriend was amazing, and there was an end in sight to the job I loathed.

  When I pulled my graph from the closet last night, I checked off several thousand dollars. It was down to the wire, and I was determined to hit the zero mark before I was through.

  My phone rang just as I’d made it to the third floor.

  “Hi, Mom.” She was better than an alarm.

  “How was church, Luca?” Hope filled her voice.

  “I didn’t go, Mom. I took hot tea to my girlfriend, and we spent the morning together.”

  There was an eerie silence on her end.

  “Girlfriend?” She made a happy squeak. “Oh, Luca, when are you going to bring her home to meet us?” Every weekend, she went on about the importance of faith, but at the mention of a girlfriend, she completely switched gears. “Tell me everything about her. Is she Italian? Catholic? Smart? Pretty?” She rattled off attributes like they were options to purchase.

  “Not Italian, but she’s Catholic, she’s beautiful, and yes, she’s smart, but it’s too early to bring her home to the family. Besides, I have a lot to do before I graduate. I can’t come back right now, Mom.”

  “Maybe we can come and see you soon?”

  She must have covered the phone because I could hear muffled voices in the background. She was probably telling Dad she wanted to go to New York, but there was no risk of that happening. He liked to keep several states between his greatest disappointment and himself. It had been over a year since I’d seen my parents, but I couldn’t imagine them jumping on a plane simply because I’d confessed to having a girlfriend.

  After I’d hung up, I dove back into research. I’d fallen into a rhythm of sorts. I saw Mim every moment I could, and I showed up to work feeling less stressed and more motivated.

  On Monday when I went to Laura Prater’s office, I glanced out the window. My stomach roiled knowing somewhere across the street, in another high-rise, a man was finding his pleasure because of what I was giving his girlfriend. The thought made me angry; how could a man stand and watch his woman with another?

  What used to be my easy job had now become one more thing I hated about this business. I’d been very clear about public sex on my job application. I didn’t go there, and this was breaking all the rules. The fact that I didn’t know it had been happening made it worse. My skin crawled, but I needed this job to reach my goal. This time, I pressed her against the window and took her from behind, where I hoped her perverted boyfriend’s eyes couldn’t see me.

  Twofer Tuesday was fine. I went to Meredith’s house, and we did our thing, only this time, she removed her shirt and insisted on a little foreplay before the main course. When I was holding her after, she told me something I’d never asked her, and she’d never divulged before, the reason she didn’t have sex.

  “I don’t have intercourse because it scares the hell out of me.” Her confession came out of the blue.

  “Scares you?” There were a lot of reasons to fear sex, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to dig deeper into hers, but something about the vulnerability in her eyes made me ask, “Why?”

  She curled into a ball and sighed. “I’ve had two experiences. Both horrible.” She snuggled against my shirt. “Rape at my high school prom, and after years of therapy, I let down my guard to allow a man in my life that wasn’t worthy. He seduced me, and once we had awful sex, he moved on.”

  I rose up on my elbow and stared at the woman I’d known to be strong and capable, but not the least bit vulnerable. “What made it awful sex?” Was it truly awful, or did the memory of her rape taint the experience?

  “It was painful in every sense of the word.” She leaned back onto the emerald green spread that matched her eyes. “That’s when I decided to hire someone to give me pleasure, not pain.”

  I pulled her to my side and held her for minutes. She didn’t cry; she just let me hold her.

  “Sex doesn’t have to be that way,” I whispered over her head. “You have a say in what you want. Relationships require honesty and openness.” Here I was talking about being open and honest when my girlfriend knew nothing about what I did. I was too ashamed to tell her. “The next time you date a man, tell him the truth about your experiences and ask him to guide you through it. If he doesn’t, he isn’t worth your time.” I felt like a heel giving out advice I refused to live by.

  “What about you, Luca? Would you be willing to guide me through it?” She pulled out of my arms and watched me.

  Damn it. I liked the clients who didn’t want to use my dick. They somehow made me feel like less of a whore and more of a therapeutic assignment, but these women paid me to give them what they wanted. They were the clients, and I was in no position to say no.

  “Yes, I work for you, Meredith, and whatever you want, you get.” Within reason. However, lately, I was finding the line I’d drawn between absolute no and reasonable a bit gray. No public sex—unless, of course, you can hide in a high-rise and only have one man in an audience. No lying, unless it’s to your girlfriend or your family and they’re none the wiser. I shuddered to think of how low I’d sunk.

  Thankfully, Shelby didn’t want to pile on anything new to our arrangement, she was pissed at her brother, so we snuck into his garage and had sex in his Mustang, Shelby, 350 GT. It’s a shit place to have sex, but Shelby was smiling when we left, and she put a few extra hundreds into my palm when I went home.

  Being on-call for Sandra meant anything could pop up on my calendar, so seeing my Wednesday booked again didn’t surprise me. Seeing Judith Kent’s name did. She sent a car for me, and at six o’clock I arrived at her Long Island home. She lived on a large, sprawling estate in Oyster Bay.

  I stood in front of the imposing wood doors and rang the bell. I expected a butler or servant to answer, but the spry octogenarian I’d met last week gr
eeted me.

  “Come in, Luca.” Judith moved to the side and waved me in. She was dressed in a black and purple pantsuit with enough amethysts to weigh her down. Judith obviously loved her jewelry.

  I leaned in and kissed her weathered cheek just above the bright red blush that didn’t get blended. “Judith, it’s good to see you again. I’m surprised, though; I thought I was a one-date wonder.” I followed her into a yellow room decorated with flowers and vines.

  “Oh, the girls just loved you, and I needed to have some new fodder to tell those old biddies.” She spoke of her friends as if they were ancient and she was newborn.

  “Fodder?” I was rarely slow on the uptake, but talking to Judith was like solving a puzzle.

  “Yes, I thought if you came over and organized one of my kitchen drawers, I could tell them you were in my drawers.” She laughed until the remainder of her skin matched her blush.

  “You hired me to come over and clean out your drawers?” This was a first for me.

  “Of course. Did you think I wanted you to ravish me? Dear Lord, I could imagine it now. I’d be in traction until my death.” She walked over to a scotch decanter and poured us both a drink. “When you get my age, Luca, you have to find the things that tickle you. Telling my friends you had your fingers in my drawers is fun.”

  I thought I’d experienced everything up until that moment. “Judith, let me see your drawers so I can make an honest woman out of you.”

  I followed her into her kitchen, where she opened her silverware drawer. Not a thing was out of place.

  She squinted her eyes and pursed her lips. “I thought my spoons and forks should be switched.” Those pursed lips spread into a grin. “Yes, that should do it.”

  I picked up the forks and spoons and switched their places. Job done. Now what? “I don’t feel right about charging you for this date, Judith.”

  “Oh, nonsense. I have more money than sense. Let an old lady have some fun. In fact, I was hoping we could meet weekly until your contract is up. I like you, and I think you have a good heart. It’s not often you meet people who want more for you than themselves.”

  I didn’t know where she got that impression, I’d been doing everything I could to push my agenda for the last two years. “I’m not that good of a person. Look at what I do for a living, Judith.”

  “It’s honest work, right?”

  “I wouldn’t say it’s honest. I’m ashamed of myself most of the time, but I see the light at the end of the tunnel.” That was honest.

  “Let me tell you a story.” She carried her drink to the living room and sat on the floral sofa. I slumped into the chair across from her. “I was born in 1932. The country was just starting to recover from the 1928 stock market crash. Hundreds of thousands of people were jobless, hungry, and destitute. Do you think I grew up in luxury?” She sipped at her drink and looked around her swanky home. “I grew up in Kansas in the middle of the dust bowl. I know what desperation looks like. By the time I was fourteen, I was done with it all.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I packed up and moved to New York. I got a fancy outfit, a cute pair of shoes, and I put myself in front of the richest bachelors in the United States.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “What you did and what I did aren’t much different. I sold my entire self to one man, while you sell bits and pieces to many.”

  “I wouldn’t call them bits, Judith,” I teased. “Tell me about Mr. Kent.”

  “He was an Astor by blood on his mother’s side. Lots of old money but mostly in shipping, and hotels. Not a dime was actually his. My Winston wanted to make a name for himself, so he went the way of finance. Once he earned enough to invest in himself, he built Kent International, which mines precious stones.” She fingered the amethysts hanging from her neck. “Every piece of jewelry I have comes from one of our mines.”

  “Wow.” I’d never considered using finance as a stepping stone into another field. It was the end all, be all for me. “How did you get involved in The Dean’s List?”

  “That’s easy. When my Winston was over in Africa at the Prosperity Diamond Mine, I was bored and entered the school as a way to spend my time. I majored in finance, thinking I could help Winston out when he was out of the country. I’m a generous donor to the school, and when I need arm candy, I call Sandra.”

  “That was bold of you.”

  “Do I look like a fading rose to you?” She rolled her blue-shadowed eyes. “Winston married me because I convinced him I was an asset, and I proved I was. While he traveled from mine to mine, I ran his business like Satan with a bouffant. I tripled his earnings in the first year.” Judith’s voice took on a dreamy tone. “Until his dying day, he always told me I was his most precious gem.”

  “Do you regret not having children?”

  She appeared to ponder my question for a moment. “No, Winston and I had each other and our careers, and that was enough. He’s been gone for ten years now, and I fill my life with people who intrigue me.”

  “I intrigue you?”

  “Yes, because you’re not who you appear to be. I’m not even sure you know who you are, but I do.”

  I sipped at the scotch and watched as Judith analyzed me. “Who am I?”

  “Oh, Luca, you are so much more than you think.”

  She didn’t elaborate. She pulled me into the kitchen, where we ate cold smoked salmon and cheese. Two hours later, the car picked me up. We had agreed to meet next week at six, where we would barbecue chicken. I told her she could tell her friends I was coming over to massage her breasts … chicken breasts, that was.

  Judith Kent was more than I could have hoped for in a companion. She was wise and witty, and something told me I’d learn a lot about myself in her presence.

  My week ended with my second date with Diane. We did a bit more shopping and then went to a movie. She was going for the boyfriend experience. She hadn’t asked me to have sex with her yet, and that was fine with me. I would be happy if that never happened. She did try to kiss me once, but I laid out the ground rules. I never kissed clients, except on the cheek. She didn’t seem happy, but she didn’t press me for more.

  Chapter 11

  Sunday began at a diner with Mim. She loved hash and eggs, and I was happy to find her the places that specialized in her favorite. We snuggled in a booth and stole kisses. I’d never done so little with a woman and been so completely satisfied. My dick and I had an understanding: as long as it performed on demand, it would be rewarded with Mim down the road. In all honesty, it rose every time I saw her, but my brain was finally in control of the situation. I knew what had to be done or not done for my relationship with Mim to grow in its purest form.

  We spent the afternoon at her place. I helped with her laundry while she graded more papers. “I should get extra points for my assignment since you’re making me fold your underwear.” I stood by the couch, where I’d dumped her load of clean laundry.

  She sat at her kitchen table with papers spread all over. “I’m grading you harder because you’re my boyfriend. I don’t want to be accused of favoritism.” She bit into a Jaffa Cake. The orange jelly oozed from the corner of her lip.

  “That’s not fair.” I picked up her pink barely there panties and folded them into a tiny parcel. It was too bad I had to fold her laundry to get close to her panties.

  She washed down the little cake and licked the remaining jelly from her lip. “Come and kiss me. I’ll make it up to you.”

  I left the clothes lying on her sofa and went to her. “You can be as hard on me as you want, as long as I’m rewarded.” My lips melted into hers, and all thoughts of folding laundry or grading papers were gone. She pulled me toward her room, but I stilled in the hallway. “Oh shit, look at the time.” After a cursory glance at my watch, I released Mim and raced around her house, collecting my stuff. “I gotta go. I’ll be here in the morning to pick you up for school.” In a flash, I was out her door and racing down the steps. I flew past her father so
fast, he didn’t have time to set his face in a scowl.

  When I was a block away, my pace slowed. I didn’t have anywhere to be, but I couldn’t end up in Mim’s bed. I’d have to figure out a way to keep us out of her house, and mine.

  Mom called at one and was disappointed with my lack of religious enthusiasm, but she seemed satisfied when I mentioned Mim and how we'd spent the morning together again.

  * * *

  Monday morning, I was standing in front of Mim’s when she walked out. “Are you sure you have time to go to school?”

  I knew she was miffed at me for leaving without a word, but it was self-preservation. “I had a hair appointment.” My first out-and-out lie to her.

  She ran her fingers through my hair. “You’re not getting your money’s worth. It looks exactly the same.”

  “I’m told that’s the sign of a good cut. Besides, I needed a good conditioning.” I pulled whatever excuse I could from my ass.

  “Are you sure you’re into women?” She twisted her fingers with mine and walked with me to the subway.

  “Absolutely. Would I kiss you like I do if I weren’t?”

  “Maybe.”

  “I’m definitely not a guy who likes men. I’m cool with those who do, but I’m all for girls. Not just any girl, but my girl.”

  I squeezed her hand in mine. I was getting the feeling that if I didn’t show her something sooner, she’d continue to doubt my manhood. This whole situation was comical. I proved my manliness several times a week, but when it came to the girl I was falling for, I couldn’t do a damn thing to convince her of my prowess. The world was unfair.

  After class, I worked out at the gym and then went to see Laura Prater. I was less than enthusiastic this time. I unzipped my pants and did what she wanted. I collected my hour and went on my way.