by Beth Rinyu
“Oh. Then what do you suggest?” She looked around and whispered, “Penis?” She turned a bright shade of red as soon as the word expelled from her mouth.
“Well...maybe, but it sounds a little too clinical. If you really want to grab their attention, I’d say go with dick or cock. And mounted...it sounds like they’re riding horses. May I suggest that mounted be replaced with fu—”
She covered her ears and shook her head before I could even get the full word out. Her face was now ten times brighter. “Oh no, I could never use those words!”
“You couldn’t, but Barbara Latte can.”
She let out a deep sigh, still seeming a little unsure over it all. “How do you do it?” she asked.
“Do what?”
“Pretend to be someone else to your clients. I mean, don’t you sometimes just want to be yourself?”
She had caught me totally off guard with that question. No one had ever asked me that before, because the truth was, very few people knew of the charade I put on when I went to work. “You just get used to it, and after a while you almost become that person—even though deep down inside you despise her.” I looked down at the table, the familiar burn of tears welling in my eyes, knowing I had divulged a little too much, but I was unable to stop myself.
“Then why do you do it?”
I lifted my head and gazed into her sympathetic baby blue eyes.
“Why? If it makes you dislike yourself because of it?”
I shrugged. “Guess for the same reasons people do anything—it’s a means to an end. And trust me, my profession isn’t the only reason for my self-loathing. In a way it just validates it more.”
“You shouldn’t feel that way about yourself. You’re a beautiful, intelligent girl, it’s not too late—”
I put my hand up to stop her. “Please, let’s not go there. It’s fine. I’m fine…now let’s discuss this book.”
She eyed me up with doubt for a moment. I had a feeling she was seeing right through my fake persona. I had never admitted to anyone before just how I felt—not even myself.
By the time I looked down at my watch again, it was almost four, and we had spent the whole afternoon working on Hannah’s book. She seemed a little more amendable to going out of her comfort zone with her story than she had when we first started, and oddly enough I found that I enjoyed her company. We were polar opposites, but she and I just seemed to mesh.
“I cannot thank you enough! Hopefully when we get together again next week, I’ll have a few chapters done.”
“I look forward to reading them.”
“I’m sorry for holding you up all afternoon,” she said as she gathered her belongings and we put on our coats.
“It was actually a lot of fun.”
“It was.” She smiled. “Now I have to go and pay my furry friends a visit at the animal shelter.”
“Oh, how often do you do that?”
“I’m normally just scheduled a few days a week, but they’re really shorthanded right now so I try to go in whenever I can. Do you like animals?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“If you ever get the urge, we’re always looking for volunteers.”
“Umm…that sounds really nice, but I’m pretty booked up.”
“If you change your mind.” She reached into her purse and handed me a business card with the shelter information on it. “I’m there on Saturdays from nine to four and Thursday evenings from six to closing, and whatever other days they need me—like today.”
“Yeah, okay.” I dropped the card in my purse.
“Oh my, it’s really raining out!” Hannah fretted as we stepped outside and the ice-cold drops of water beat down on us.
“Such a waste,” I said, looking up at the sky, allowing the water to pour down my face.
“What is?” Hannah asked as she adjusted the hood on her jacket tighter and stepped back under the refuge of the awning of the coffee shop.
“Rain in January. There should me some rule with Mother Nature that if we must have precipitation in the winter, then it should always be snow. Don’t you think?”
She shrugged. “I never really thought about that before.”
“It’s kind of like a tradeoff. We’ll deal with the frigid temperatures, but give us snow. It makes those cold dreary days of winter a little brighter.” I turned around to look at her. “Do you know what my favorite part of a snow storm is?”
She shook her head.
“When it just starts. The city seems so quiet, so at peace as those first few flakes begin to silently fall from the sky, covering the streets with a blanket of untouched beauty. Then it’s gone. All the magic, all the excitement, and all the pureness that once graced the ground are trampled with dirt-filled footprints, never able to transform back to the flawless, unscathed splendor that it once was.”
I sensed sadness in her eyes as she stared at me questioningly. “Wow, I guess I never thought of it that way. I always saw it as a nuisance, but now that you’ve characterized it so eloquently, I really do see the beauty of it.”
“Maybe it’s just from growing up in a place where it always rained instead of snowed that makes me now see the magic in it. I know, I must sound crazy.” I brushed it off, taking a step back and moving my soaking-wet body under the awning next to her.
“I don’t think you sound crazy at all, Bree. In fact, I think it’s quite beautiful the way you personified it.”
“The way I what?”
“You gave life to the snow.”
“Oh.” I shrugged, not having a clue as to what she meant.
“Did you ever think of writing, Bree? You really have a way with words.”
I roared with laughter. “Um...no. I’ll stick with the research part and you can handle the writing.”
“It could be very therapeutic. Even if you just write in a notebook every day about your feelings.”
I totally brushed her off and pointed to the cab that had just pulled up.
“Oh no, you go ahead. You’re soaked to the bone. I’ll get the next one.”
“Thanks.” I smiled a genuine smile—not the usual forced one I was so used to giving.
“Bree?” Hannah called just as I stepped out into the rain, causing me to turn around.
“Every time it snows its a new opportunity to experience that beauty once again. Just because that snow gets trampled on and dirty doesn’t mean we’ll never see the pureness in it once more. Life is all about second chances. We’re given them all the time.”
I nodded and moved forward, stopping and turning around once again when I reached the cab. “Aubree,” I shouted over the rain. Seeing confusion on her face, I shouted louder, “My name is Aubree.”
Chapter 7
As the days passed, I was finding myself consumed with Hannah’s words from our last meeting. Maybe we really were given a chance at redemption each and every day. We created our own destiny, and if we were unhappy with the direction it was going in, we were the only ones who could change it. I took her advice and began to write my daily thoughts down in a notebook. It had been a long time since I had kept a diary, and it was kind of fun to be doing it again in an adult sort of way. It gave me time to regroup and come back to me again.
I stepped out of the cab and readied to enter Battery Gardens, a downtown restaurant that overlooked the New York Harbor. I was a little confused as to why Darren Michaels, a Wall Street attorney otherwise known as my usual Monday Morning, was requesting I meet him for a drink on Thursday afternoon. I was a little reluctant, knowing that I had to meet up with my real Thursday afternoon in an hour, but Darren assured me it wouldn’t take long. I agreed, figuring a glass of wine would loosen me up since I had been stressing about Thursday Afternoon all week after our little encounter at church.
“Bree.” Darren smiled as I entered the bar, getting up from his seat and placing a kiss on my cheek. Darren was the epitome of a distinguished middle-aged man: in his early fifties, tall, salt-and-pepper hair, pi
ercing blue eyes, without an ounce of fat on his body.
“Hello, Darren. It’s been a while,” I remarked. We hadn’t seen each other in well over a month.
“Yes, I know. That’s why I wanted to speak to you.”
I took a seat and ordered a glass of wine. “Okay, I’m all ears.”
“I talked to Margo the other day and informed her I’d no longer need her agency’s services.”
“Oh?” I raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of the chardonnay the bartender had just placed in front of me.
He nodded. “I told her not to say anything to you until I spoke with you. My wife and I decided to put the divorce on hold.”
“That’s great news.” Bad for business, but good news for him.
“Yeah, I suppose it is.” I sensed sadness in his words. “I just wanted you to hear it from me. You’re a wonderful young woman who has her whole life ahead of her.”
And there it was: just because he was no longer requiring my services, he was acting as if my world was going to fall apart. “I appreciate you taking the time out of your busy schedule to tell me personally, but it really wasn’t necessary. It was a business deal and people sever ties in business all the time. No need to feel guilty over it. I really do wish you and your wife all the best.”
He nodded in agreement. “Yes, you are right, but I felt like you deserved a proper goodbye, and if there is anything I can do to help you out in the future, just let me know.”
“You mean like a job reference?” I let out a loud laugh. “You and I both know that wouldn’t work out too well.” I took one last sip of my wine and stood up. “It was a pleasure doing business with you, Darren.” I extended my hand to him, taking him a little off guard with my cool, no-nonsense behavior.
“And you as well, Bree.”
Great, another client off the books. Now Margo was going to be on my case to take on someone new. I hopped into the cab and rattled off the address of the hotel where Thursday Afternoon and I were supposed to meet. Hopefully he showed, after revealing his family to me. It was definitely going to be even more awkward than the last time, but I couldn’t afford to lose him as a client too. I stared out the window into the bumper-to-bumper traffic, my face heated and my blood pressure more than likely on the rise just thinking of Darren. The nerve of him. What he viewed as courtesy, I viewed as rude. Having me meet him for a drink to break it to me gently as if I was some young, stupid, lovesick girl who had fallen for the older, powerful attorney. I had no feelings for him. Never did. So why did he need to treat me like a fragile little flower? He was a business deal, that was all. My heart was as cold as a winter day when it came to these guys; all they were was a paycheck, and I hated that they thought they actually mattered to me. Then to top it off, he had to patronize me by telling me I was a wonderful young woman who had her whole life ahead of her.
“Go fuck yourself!” I realized I said it out loud when the cab driver looked in his rearview mirror. “I wasn’t speaking to you,” I clarified. Go fuck yourself, Darren. That time I kept my thoughts private. Sooner or later they all came to their senses and realized it was cheaper to keep their wives and have mediocre sex once or twice a month for free than to pay me an insane amount of money for a once-a-week cheap thrill. Wonder how long it would take Thursday Afternoon to figure it out? For some reason the thought of that saddened me a little.
“This is where you said, right?” the cab driver shouted, breaking me from my deep inner thoughts.
“Oh...umm, yeah,” I replied, reaching over the seat to hand him his fare and stepping out onto the street. My knees wobbled and my heart raced ever so slightly at the thought of coming face to face with Thursday Afternoon after catching a glimpse of his real life. I pulled it together and walked into the hotel. I wasn’t going to allow this to happen. That wasn’t who I was. The customer’s business wasn’t my business. If he was okay cheating on his wife and possibly breaking up his adorable little family over it, then that wasn’t my concern. He was a rent payment, a new pair of shoes, a weekend trip to the spa…that was it. If he didn’t bring anything up, then I surely wasn’t going to. I took a deep breath, beating the last few seconds of thoughts into my brain. No emotions involved, no emotions involved, I repeated over and over again as I turned the handle on the hotel room door. I was totally prepared to deal with it head-on—that was until I walked into an empty hotel room. Seemed like Thursday Afternoon had come to his senses sooner rather than later. Just as quickly as he had entered my life, he had exited. No phone call, no text—reminding me once again that I meant nothing to these men, the same way they meant nothing to me. The only difference being that they had families to go home to who they loved and cared about, and who loved them back. I, on the other hand, had no one. I pressed my head against the cold windowpane and looked down at the city. This job was great for the time being. It allowed me a gorgeous apartment, expensive clothing, and lavish trips. But what was going to become of me once my youth had faded and I was no longer appealing to these men? Would I become a lonely old woman with no one in her life because she’d never allowed anyone in? I quickly wiped the teardrop rolling down my face and came to my senses. I wasn’t going to think about the what ifs; for the moment I was going to live for the here and now. I gathered my belongings, startling when I heard the hotel room door open. I was speechless for one brief moment as I looked into his eyes.
“Sorry I’m late.” He spoke first.
“It—it’s okay.” I hurriedly wiped away the straggler teardrop that had been welled up in my eye and had begun rolling down my face at the most inappropriate time.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
I nodded and took a deep breath. “I’m good.” My gentle, cautious approach from our last meeting was gone as I rushed him, throwing my arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss. I wanted to get it over with before I had time to think about what I was doing. Before I saw his adorable little boy’s face flash before me, reminding me that he was someone’s father…someone’s husband. His eagerness matched mine as he grabbed me by the waist and threw me on the bed. Our lips never parted while he unbuttoned my blouse and unhooked by bra. Another layer of clothing was peeled off us with each second that passed until our naked bodies were lying together once again. That time, without hesitation he took the lead, and when he did, I forgot all about who he was and the family he had. I closed my eyes, taking him in, and the only thought racing through my mind was the pleasure he was granting to my body.
***
We were both breathless, trying to come down from our sensual high. It was the first time my body had ever reacted that way to a client. I had become a master at the art of faking it, but there was nothing fake about how I was feeling at the moment. I started to get up and he held me back.
“I wanted to talk to you for a moment.” His smooth accent seemed even sexier.
I propped my elbow on the mattress, resting my head in the palm of my hand while I stared down at his perfect bare chest.
“What you saw at church last Sunday.”
“Please. Don’t. I really don’t need to know.”
“I know you don’t need to know, but I need to tell you.”
“Okay.” I braced myself for what I had been avoiding all week.
“That little boy is my son.”
I nodded, hoping he would end it there.
“And that woman—”
“Really, Simon, please don’t.” I sat up, raking my hand through my hair.
He sat up next to me, taking my hand.
“I don’t need to know about your wife or your family. If you chose to do this, that’s on you. I don’t want to know that I’m tearing apart your marriage.”
He let out a light chuckle. “She’s not my wife.”
Relief washed over me, and the tension throughout my body loosened up.
“She’s my sister-in-law.”
“Oh…umm.” I didn’t know what to say. For the first time ever, it mattered to me. A
client’s personal life actually held some significance.
“My wife passed away a few years ago.”
My jaw lowered, my eyes swelling at the sight of the tears in his. “Oh, Simon, I am so sorry.”
He nodded and tried to pull it together. I gripped his hand tighter. Oddly enough, I was no stranger to how he was feeling.
“It’s hard to manage everything with Jack and work, so she helps me out a lot.”
“That’s really great that you have a support system.”
“Yeah.” He sighed.
“Well, I must say, that little boy of yours is absolutely adorable.”
“Thank you.” His tone became a little more upbeat.
“Can I ask you something? If you don’t want to answer, I’ll completely understand.”
He nodded as I pressed on.
“Why does a handsome, successful man like you need to pay for sex?”
He let out a frustrated sigh. “Because, I don’t want to feel anything in the emotional sense. I’m not ready to give my heart to anyone just yet. I know that may sound incredibly selfish, but—”
I put my finger over his lips to stop him from talking. “No, it doesn’t sound selfish at all. In fact, I think it’s very noble of you.”
A slight smile adorned his wounded face. I moved in closer and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. His tongue slipped into my mouth as we gradually lowered ourselves back down on the bed. I was taken off guard when he pulled me closer and held me in his arms, stroking his fingers up and down my back. It was something I always tried to avoid—never get intimate with the customer—but he was an exception, still grieving his wife. I understood his pain and knew he needed it to help him heal. How I wished there had been someone there for me when I’d needed it. I nuzzled closer, resting my head on his chest, becoming more and more relaxed with each beat of his heart. I was fully aware that I was breaking all of my rules, but there was just something different about Thursday Afternoon that had me powerless to stop myself.
