by York, Mattie
“That’s great about Mary,” She was happy for her sister. Of course she was. But her mother always seemed to exaggerate things to make her sister’s life seem so fantastic and make Alex feel small and meaningless at the same time. “I know she has been looking for a house for a long time. No, my landlord hasn’t mentioned the rent. So I’m not going to ask him.”
“Are you going to come down this weekend, then?”
“Um, no, I don’t think I can,” Alex replied quickly.
“Why? Is there something wrong with your car?” Alex had been waiting for her mother to mention the car. Her parents had paid the deposit on her car. It was her present for graduating university. Mary had gotten one too. All Alex had to do was pay the monthly payments, and for some reason, her mother never let her forget it. “You made the payment, right?”
“Yes mom, my car is fine. I don’t like to drive it too much, but other than that it’s fine.”
“Well, I don’t want you to think I’m picking on you, Elixia. But it is our name on the car. So if you can’t make a payment, you will tell us, right?”
“Yes, mom. Don’t worry, I am working this weekend.”
“How can you be working this weekend, if you don’t have a job?”
“Mom, I told you. I have a job. It’s just temporary. The office where I work asked if I could work on the weekend. It’s an advertising company, and they really need help with a PR presentation they are putting together. I told them I can do PowerPoint, so they asked me to come in. It’s the weekend, so its extra hours. I get paid time and a half, so it’s really worth it to go in.” Alex tried to sound convincing, hoping her mother bought it. Of course she bought it. It could happen. Her mother didn’t have to know that she was hoping Saturday afternoon she would have an appointment with Joseph.
Her mother was quiet for a moment. “Well then, when are you going to see your father?”
“Well, I’ll try and come down sometime next week. Maybe, I’ll get a day off, since I’ll be working all weekend.”
“Well, I would hope they will give you a day off. They should treat you special. You are not a regular employee. Do they know you have a university degree? How many temp workers have that? Maybe they think they can work you as much as they want, because you are only temporary. You don’t have a contract, do you? Really, I think you should give Frank a call. He could help you. He said he’d be happy too. You just have to ask him.”
“Yes, thanks Mom. I’ll think about it.” Alex wandered back to the mirror and leaned close, pulling at the skin on her face looking for blemishes. She stuck her chin out and turned her head noticing a long black hair. Ugh! She made a mental note to pluck it out with tweezers when she got home.
“You know, your father’s not like me,” her mother was saying. “He won’t say anything. But he really cares about you girls. And it hurts him when you don’t remember things like his birthday. You really should call and talk to him.”
“I know mom. I’m sorry. I thought it was tomorrow. Is he there now?”
“No, honey, he’s gone fishing. He’ll be home tonight. You can call him then. I won’t tell him I told you.”
“Ok. I’ll call later.”
“I worry about you Elixia. I don’t want you to work too hard. And I don’t like the idea of you living up there in Toronto, all alone. Have you met any nice boys?”
“No, mom. I’m fine. I’ll call dad tonight.”
“Ok, honey. Oh, I have to go. That’s the doorbell. Marjorie from down the street is coming over to help me with my roses. Did you know her daughter got accepted to teacher’s college? Isn’t that wonderful? You could do that too, you know. You would make a wonderful teacher. Oh, you should see Marjorie’s roses. They are so beautiful. She plays classical music to them in the mornings. You know I do that too. And give them blessed water, but mine always seem to die on me. I think they are getting too much negative energy from the hydro pole. It’s just too close. Yes? Hello, Marjorie!” Alex’s mother’s voice faded as the receiver fell onto the sofa with a thud.
Alex looked up at the clock’s reflection in the mirror. 12:00. Shit! Where did the morning go? Ahmed was due at her apartment in an hour. “Mom? Mom! I have to go!”
19
Dear Diary,
Yes, ok. I am still writing. Actually, it’s nice. Sitting up here at night. It’s quiet, dark and still. John isn’t home yet. He took the boys to hockey practice. I have to say. He has really, well, no he hasn’t completely changed. That takes time. But I can tell he’s really trying. He really doesn’t want to lose me. To lose us.
Tonight he came home early from work. Scared the shit right out of me. With roses, cheeky bugger. He hasn’t been home early for years. He came up here when I was on the phone and started screwing around. Sure, we made out. I can’t not kiss him. I love kissing him. But I had to stop. I don’t know why. But we lay down on the bed. Our bed. And well, I couldn’t. That was our bed. I know we don’t use it anymore. It’s for photo shoots and whatever. But it used to be so romantic and magical. And shit, after all that man has done. I think, well, I can’t use the bed anymore.
I know he’s trying and if he’s a good man, he’ll be patient. He has to be. What choice does he have? I don’t think he’s screwing around anymore. Who can be sure though, right? I told Ahmed to keep an eye on him. You should have seen his face. “I can take care of him if you want,” that’s what he said. Can you believe it? “You should be treated like a queen,” he said. I had to convince him it was nothing, that I was just suspicious. That was all. Shit. I hate doing that. Hate letting other people know what’s going on in my private life. Especially Ahmed. He’s a gossiper. He’d tell everyone and their sisters. But I know he tries his best. And he does care. But I have to know. It’s killing me. I have to be sure that John is alright. That he is committed. I don’t know why. It’s because he said he was a sex addict. And I’m not the stupid girl from down the street. Sex addict. Means addict. Even if you don’t want to, you’ll slip up. So I need to know just how much of an addict I’m married to, right?
I can trust Ahmed. Funny guy. Shame actually. He’s damn handsome. Women just don’t seem to be comfortable paying for sex. I can understand that. I mean most women could easily be paid for sex. And damn, women are also so timid. There are so many out there that don’t know good sex. Don’t know that you should be pleasured. The fact that the man cums does not make good sex. It’s a shame. Ahmed is very good at what he does. I think women just don’t allow themselves the simple pleasure of sex. Or maybe they don’t know about the pleasure they are missing. Women always have to put their hearts into it. Make it about feelings. Stick love into it. They don’t just enjoy the sheer physical pleasure of it. Damn culture conditioning. They still have that bloody bible ringing in their ears that if they enjoy it, they are whores or evil or something.
That’s really what I would like to do. Open a pleasure house for women. Teach women how to find their pleasure. But, sigh, there’s no market for that right now. Women just won’t pay for that. Only men. God damned horny men that will pay, pay, pay.
Dora said there’s something up with that Cohen guy. Alex’s client. The Arab. That’s what he is. I thought he was French. He does have a sexy voice but he’s from Morocco or something like that. Dora said for sure he’s Arabic. And he’s up to something. I can tell. If we weren’t in Toronto, I’d say the prick wants to buy Alex and take him home to his harem. Ha! Ok. Maybe not.
Dora’s a smart cookie, though. She’s been with me a long time and can tell what a man is after pretty much after one conversation. And she thinks he is after more than appointments. Today, she reminded me of Shariff. Oh what a bastard he was! He did the same thing. He was from Dubai. Came over here on business trips. Tried a few of our girls. Picked the girls he liked (the blondes with big tits) and hounded them. Called every day. Actually, he did that with a few of my girls. And within a few months the god damned prick opened his own escort service and stole my girl
s. Ha! Not that he treated them well after they left. Two of them came back to me within a month, telling me horror stories about the god damned prick. He made them give him free appointments in exchange for clients. And he had all these strange clients that barely spoke English. It gave the girls the willies. Yeah, no. I doubt that’s what Mr. Cohen is after. He hasn’t tried to book any other girls. I told Dora to keep her eye on him though.
What else? Chieko! What a gem that girl is turning out to be. I wouldn’t have guessed, but the men absolutely adore her. She was even able to get Mr. Roberts off. No one could. Bloody man. His pecker was dead. But she did it.
What is wrong with men these days? That Mr. Roberts went through most of my girls. Beautiful, sexy girls. They all got naked and did what they could and he could barely get it up. Man, was he really that afraid? Afraid of women? You know he might just have been. Yes, that makes sense because Chieko’s a small little meek thing. Yes, he probably felt like she couldn’t hurt him. Wow. Men. Is it really our fault? Have we done this to them?
That’s what my husband said: it’s women’s fault. He doesn’t feel like a man. He feels emasculated. Here at home because of what I do. He says that I just use men for money. And have no respect for them. And at work, he says his secretary always tells him what to do. Never mind that that was the same secretary he was screwing. Wonder if she told her husband? Yes, it’s true I make more money than him. But you would think in his job, he would feel all masculine. He’s a construction worker for god sakes. How more of a man can you be?
I don’t know what he wants. Seems like he just wants to blame me. Fine. It’s my fault. But really, he knew what I was when I met him. We bloody met because he hired me. I’ve got no secrets. Sure, I stopped doing calls when we got serious. And I keep my business separate from the family. Hidden away on the top floor. The boys never come up here. They don’t know what I do. What else can I do? Quit all together. Wait at home for him to come home with dinner ready and me in a black lace slip? That’s not me. Never has been. I’ve given him the best sex of his life. That I know. I’m damn good at sex and I do love him. I don’t know.
Luann said that I can’t worry about him. Not now. He’s come forward and that is a start. A very good start. She said that maybe my problem wasn’t with him, maybe it was with myself. That I’m ashamed of what I do. And that allows him to be ashamed of what I do. Are you kidding me? Not proud of my Angels? Of this business that I started from nothing? I am damn proud. Angela’s Angels are the number one elite escort agency in Toronto. We have the best reputation for quality girls and we are an honest business. I am my business. I need my business. How can I not be proud of it? Bloody hell. There’s the door. Boys are home. I love you Angela.
20
“No, go away, you’re not pretty enough!” a loud voice boomed from behind the door.
Chieko stood on her toes to peer through the small peek hole of door 253. She thought she saw a shadow move across the room. But as she waited but the door remained closed. “Baka,” she cursed. She had skipped English class for this appointment. Right now, she was supposed to be sitting in a desk at the back of her English classroom beside Jay. He said he would save a spot for her. And where was she? In an empty hotel corridor. What a waste. She looked at her cell phone. Maybe she could still make it to her class? She would be late, but it would be worth it.
Chieko smiled when she thought about Jay. He had walked right up to her at the second lesson and asked if the seat beside her was taken. How cute! He was really nice too. He had talked to her about Japan. He had studied at the University of Tokyo. What I am doing? Chieko thought. If this stupid client doesn’t want to open the door, I don’t have to wait here. She took one last glance at the door and then walked away.
“No. No. Stop.” The sound of loud music filled the hall as the door opened and a tall blonde man in a t-shirt and boxer shorts emerged. He ran down the hall after Chieko, and grabbed her by the arm. “Hey, come on, I was joking.” He stepped closer to her. “Of course you are pretty enough.” He swept his eyes over her body. “You are beautiful, just like your picture.” Leaning forward, he kissed Chieko on the lips. As Chieko allowed herself to be lead back to the room by her new client Joe Stromberg, she took out a tissue and wiped her lips. Didn’t Angela tell this client no kissing?
“So, you requested me?” Chieko asked as Joe closed the door behind her.
“Well, I requested someone beautiful and someone nice,”
“Hai, I see,” Chieko sat down on the edge of the bed and looked up at Joe. He was extremely tall, well over 6 feet. He had large husky shoulders and strong arms, but he had the longest skinniest knock-kneed legs Chieko had ever seen. With those legs, his white skin and his large beer belly, she imagined he looked like a plucked chicken when he was naked. Joe also had this strange way of walking around on his tiptoes.
“Please sit down, talk to me,” Chieko patted the bed next to her.
Joe shrugged and sat down. “So, you want to talk?”
“Yes, a little. I’d like to know you.”
“What do you want to know?”.
“Well, what do you do?”
“I work for a pharmaceutical company.”
“Sugoi. That is interesting. What do you do there?”
“I am working on a very important project. It’s very complicated, but if it is approved it will revolutionize health care.”
“How?”
“No, it’s hard to explain. I don’t think you will understand.”
“Oh. Ok.”
The two sat in silence.
Joe stood up and walked towards the window. “Well, the project I am on now, it hasn’t been approved yet. But if we can get it approved, it will be huge. Huge.”
“Oh, well, I hope it will have approval,”
Joe laughed. “Yes, me too. Then I can go home.”
“Home? You don’t live in Toronto?”
“No, not yet. I might want to stay but,” Joe paused and turned back to look at Chieko. “I don’t know.”
“Why don’t you stay?”
“I would stay, if I met someone.”
“Someone?”
“Someone special,” Joe sat back on the couch beside Chieko. He reached out and caressed her hair, twirling a few strands between his fingers. “You truly are beautiful.”
Chieko’s stomach flipped. Joe had just met her. Was he really suggesting that she become his someone special? She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror. The burnt orange shirt she had decided to wear did make her face look bright. She knew her face was flushed, but it added a nice blush to her cheeks and made her eyes sparkle. And her hair was really quite lovely today. She had found a new serum at Aveda which was supposed to give her hair a shiny gloss finish. Not only did it make her hair so shiny that it seemed to glisten in the hotel room’s dim lighting, it made it feel as smooth as satin.
Out of the corner of her eye, Chieko noticed Joe watching her so she quickly looked away, pretending to notice a spot on the bed cover. The white duvet looked so soft and inviting with rows of white pillows stacked up against the head board that Chieko couldn’t help herself. She crawled up onto the bed and relaxed into the pillows, her face sinking into the divine softness of their bounty.
“Well now,” Joe chuckled, “just the way I like it.” Before she had time to roll over, Joe jumped on top of her. He pinned her body with his, rubbing his hands along the side of her body, up to her neck then he swept her hair away from the nape of her neck and gently kissed her. Shivers of excitement raced down Chieko’s spine. His kissed her again and licked her skin following the curve of her neck as he turned her over making his way back to her mouth.
“Hello,” Joe murmured, when he stopped to catch his breath. Lifting himself up, he supported himself on one arm as he slowly began to unbutton Chieko’s shirt. She smiled up at him, looking into his eyes. They were a very faint blue mixed with grey and seemed to have layers of hidden depths. They reminded Chieko
of an early winter’s morning sky after a night’s snowfall had covered the landscape in a layer of ice and snow.
“You are adorable,” Joe leaned in and kissed her forehead. “I have a very large penis. Can you handle it?”
“Hai, yes,” Chieko coughed and then nodded.
“You are Japanese? I like that.” Joe rolled off the bed. “Now, you must be a good little Japanese girl. Can you do that?”
Chieko nodded.
“Good,” Joe reached out his hand to help Chieko off the bed. “Come on then, clothes off.”
Chieko giggled and jumped off the bed. She quickly removed all her clothing and placed them in a neat pile on the couch. When she turned back around, Joe was lying flat on the bed, stroking himself. “See? Think you can handle it?”
“Ohma!” Chieko was shocked. He hadn’t been lying. It was the biggest penis she had ever seen.
“Good,” Joe smiled lazily, “then come over here.”
As Chieko slowly climbed up onto the bed, she watched in fascination as Joe stroked himself. She wasn’t sure if she could handle him, but she could feel herself dripping in the anticipation of it. As she lowered her mouth to pleasure him, Joe stopped her with his hand. “Wait. Are you sure you want this?” Chieko nodded. “You didn’t ask for it. Good girls always ask for what they want.” Chieko looked up at him and giggled, then lowered her head. Joe slapped Chieko’s thigh.
“Ohma!”
“That was a warning. Now ask nicely.”
Chieko sat up and leaned back on her heels, rubbing her leg. “May I suck your,” she paused.
“My penis?”
“Hai. May I suck your penis?”
“Do you like it?” Joe asked, stroking it.
“Yes.” Chieko wasn’t lying. It was so big and pink and well, inviting. Looking at it, Chieko imagined how it would feel inside, how it would probe her deep inside, stimulating every nerve ending as it pulsed and prodded, pumping in and out.
