Max and I were high school sweethearts. We were so in love and inseparable like any teenager lovebirds. Right after we graduated from high school I became pregnant with Jordan. Max’s father worked at an oil rig company and brought Max on. Starting from the bottom he worked hard and eventually become a foreman. Two years later, I became pregnant with Jocelyn. With Max making good money I didn’t need to work so I stayed home with our kids.
The morning before he passed away, I had this funny feeling inside me so I begged him to stay home and call in to work. Max always teased me about my superstitions and said they will never come true. He insisted on going to work, so he dropped the kids off to school, then he headed to Houston for work. That was the last time we saw him because he never made it to work or home. The woman driving the other car was my age. I can still remember her name. Laura Stewart. She was speeding and wasn’t paying attention to her driving. From what Rick told me, her Blood Alcohol Content was point ten. So she was beyond drunk. What I don’t understand was why was she drunk at eight in the morning? And why would you have your child in the car while you’re intoxicated. The fatal accident caused her life, her five year daughter’s life, and Max’s life. Laura’s family sent me letters but I refuse to open them. They’re stored in a box in the garage. They’re probably asking if we could meet. And do what? Will that bring back the people we cared about? No. So to me it’s useless to meet. It will just bring back horrible memories and I’ve learned to live my life with my kids. I’ve learned to not hate my husband for not listening to me that day.
Max and I were so young so we always assumed we had plenty of time to create a back-up plan. Being twenty five I was naive and always thought we were ok financially, but reality slapped me in the face when he passed away. We were so much in debt.
After his death, his family and my family deserted us and left us hanging but I was blessed to have my best friends help us. Cynthia took us in like we were family. Victoria provided us with extra food her family had and she’s even bought my kids clothes. You can really tell who has your back when you go through hard times.
“What are your plans for this weekend Jac?” Victoria inquires while dipping the salmon sashimi in the wasabi and soy sauce mix, then stuffs it in her mouth.
My weekends are pretty planned out for the next couple of weeks. Jordan plays football Saturday mornings and Jocelyn has cheer practice or competitions in the afternoons. When we’re done with their curricular activities, I mostly spend my time with them.
I pause, “Well Saturday Jordan has a game in the morning and then Jocelyn has cheer competition in the afternoon. But nothing else after that.” I take a bite of my Texas Kobe beef skewers.
“If you guys have no plans Sunday, come by the house. Matt wants to cook crawfish, and a couple of the guys he works for will be there. There’s this guy I want to introduce you to that you might be interested in.” Victoria winks then giggles before stuffing another sashimi in her mouth.
“You haven’t had some real sex since Max passed away. It’s about time you get you some real dick.” Cynthia jokes.
“Oh so the guys that I’ve seen in this business have fake dicks?” I snap.
“Girl you know what we mean. You need to have sex where you aren’t getting paid for it.” Victoria comments. “Sex is better when two people are really enjoying it.”
I bite onto my bottom lip and stare at the sushi chef behind the bar. The intricate detailing they do to make fine cuisine out of fish. Their art is a masterpiece. I tell myself to inhale and exhale slowly. I know my best friends are just looking out for my best interest, but I’m not ready to date anyone. Men won’t be able to handle the baggage I have, so how much more will they have to deal with if they find out I’m a Madam for an escort service. Guys usually bail the moment they meet the kids, so if I tell them I’m a Madam, they will judge me first then desert me. I just don’t have time for that. Plus I’m not ready to depend on a man. After Max passed away, independence has always been my strong suit, and if I have a man in my life, they’re going to question me all the time. I just want to concentrate on my kids and make sure they are raised well. Maybe once I retire next year, I can find a good man. Not now.
“Hello earth to Jac.” Cynthia waves her hand in my face to get my attention.
“Oh yeah. I was just watching the chef. What were we talking about?”
“You getting laid, and liking it.” Victoria replies turning around to check what I was staring at. “It’s about time you have a man in your life. Your kids need a guy figure in their life. You’ve done a great job with them, but it’s time to settle down, and have a man.”
“Vic, what if I’m happy with my life. My kids are all that matters to me. If they’re good, then I’m good. I don’t want a guy telling me what I can and can’t do.
Cynthia places her chopsticks down on the table before crossing her fingers together with her elbow propped on the table, “When was the last time you had some?”
“Some? You mean sex?” I play like I don’t understand the question.
“Yes. Sex!”
“Are you talking about with somebody?”
We laugh out loud and the other people in the restaurant pivot their attention to our laughter. So embarrassed that everyone is staring, I bury my head on Victoria’s shoulder. Cynthia waves her hand in the air, summoning others to mind their own business.
“And we’re talking about real sex. The kind you don’t get paid for. Where you are being pleased to the point you can’t take it any longer?”
I’ve explained this to my friends numerous times, but I guess they just don’t get it.This is how see it. Every women that has a man, husband or boyfriend, is getting paid for sex whether they want to admit to it or not. When your significant other goes to work every day to provide for you, he expects to get the house clean, cook for him, and the number one thing he really wants you to do is to give him sex. It’s called catering to your man’s needs which every man has. For these things, he will give you a place to live, food to eat, and money for shopping or whatever rocks your boat. If you fail to provide him with the things he needs, the relationship goes sour and most likely he will find another woman to give him the things he’s looking for. So, we’re all really kind of prostitutes in some kind of weird way. The only difference is a prostitute only deals with the guy for the hour while girlfriends or wives have to deal with the guy for a lifetime. But hey, that’s my opinion right?
“It’s been awhile.” Pouting my lips.
But if my friends only knew, that I enjoy my job. I only see clients when I’m hiring new girls. I normally do a two girl show just to see what skills my gals have, which I haven’t hired anybody for a while. But now that I recently hired Becca and Lori, I get to have sex again. Being in this business for five years, I’ve learn some interesting tricks that will make a man keep coming back for more. Most of the men that use our services are the sophisticated men who know how to please a woman, so I am always satisfied. When they see me, I get paid for showing my talents and I also come by doing it. My friends assume since I am the owner, I no longer see the Johns. So I’ll let them keep thinking that.
“Girl you need to dust off your pussy and remove those cobwebs.” Cynthia utters. She opens the edamame and pops a couple in her mouth. “Get you a real man with a real dick, so you can quit using your dildo and you’ll save the money you waste on the batteries.”
“As I do recall, men can be expensive also. So it’s cheaper if I stick with my dildo.” I’m in tears from laughing too hard.
“Jac, please come this Sunday. I want to introduce you to this guy and I know you will really like him.” Victoria quietly claps her hands together, excited for Sunday.
“Can you ask Matt when does he want to take Patrick and Jordan fishing again? Jordan’s been bugging me to ask him. Tell him they can take my boat again, and I’ll pay for the all the expense.”
“See its moments like this when you need a man around. Jordan n
eeds a guy to look up to. Why don’t you ask him when you see him later?” Victoria lectures and wraps her arm around me.
I wrinkle my nose, and stuff my mouth with a tuna sashimi. It was Cynthia’s turn to pay, so she asks the waiter for our check, she pays, and we part ways. Every time we have lunch together, we take turns paying the bill.
I head back to the J&W building since Matt also leases with the Enterprise. The guys who owns this building has to be super rich. It’s the tallest building in Houston, and from what I heard, it is very difficult to get a lease here because you either have to be rich or have connections with the business owners who are renting. The signing process with the company can be strenuous. The rent is outrages. Matt must have rich clients who pay him well. I stop by his office and hand him a manila envelope. He sets it to the side and looks through his glass window, making sure no one is watching us.
“Did Victoria tell you about the guy we want you to meet this Sunday?”
I shake my head and exhale, “Yes. So you guys are being my matchmakers now?”
“Jac, it’s time you move on and have a life for you and your kids. We all love and miss Max, but I know he would want you to live your life. He would want you guys to be happy. And I know damn well he would want you to find a great man to help you raise y’alls kids. Jordan needs a man figure in his life. I mean I love it when he spends time with Patrick and I, but he needs some alone time also. You know like father-son time.”
“Yeah I know.” I turn my face away from him because my eyes are starting to get moist. “Speaking of Jordan and Patrick. Jordan wants me to ask you when can you take them fishing again?”
“I can probably do it next Saturday. I’ll be busy this weekend. Do you know I had to order nine sacks of crawfish?”
“What? How many people are coming to the party? That’s like three hundred sixty pounds of crawfish.”
“A good amount of people are coming. Some of the guys I work for will be bringing their rich friends so hopefully I can butter their friends up to hire me. They’re big time oil business owners.”
“Well hope you get your wish.”
“So how much is in the envelope?” Matt lifts the manila envelope questimating the amount?
“There’s twenty-one thousand dollars.”
“Man your ladies must have been busy.”
“Yeah you can say that.”
Matt pulls out my tax file from his cabinet and shows it to me. “Since its May, you have already paid two quarters of your quarterly tax payment. So you’ve put eighty thousand in your taxes which means you’re ahead. You might not need to pay for your next quarter, but I’ll do the figures and I’ll get back with you. I also deposited the credit card payments from last week into your business account.”
Matt does an excellent job with my money. He’s helped me invest part of it, making it easier for me to retire next year. He’s also makes sure I do my taxes the legit way so I won’t ever be audited. “Ok sounds great.” I get up and walk towards his office door.
Matt lifts a finger in the air and calls my name, “Please don’t forget about this Sunday. Victoria and I know you will like this guy.”
Rolling my eyes, “I’ll be there because I know your wife will not leave me alone about it.”
Matt nods then I leave his office. Since I’m through with what needs to be done in Houston, I head home. When I’m in Houston running errands, I drive my sports car which a client bought for me. For my birthday, my regular surprised me with a Coupe Black Series. This car brings out my sexy provocative side. When I’m not working, I drive my truck. I pay a hefty amount to store my cars in a parking garage in Houston. I pull up next to my Toyota Tundra, get my belongings from my Mercedes, and drive off in my truck. I feel like I’m on top of the world with this truck. I love how both cars suit my two personalities.
I choose to live in the country. And my four by four three ton truck is just what a country girl needs. Plus I do not want to be seen in Baytown driving my Mercedes; I’m afraid people might notice my extravagant car. As I’m driving East on Interstate Ten, I can smell a whiff of the rotten egg stench in the air. Texas is known for their oil and gas refineries and even if you’ve lived here for years, you can still vaguely smell the horrible stench.
My street is pretty long for there to only be five houses. As I’m pulling up to my crushed gravel driveway, I notice a for sale sign next door. The extra peace of mind me and my kids will have if I could buy that land. If I did not have any intentions of retiring next year, I would love to buy the thirty-two acres.
Home sweet home. I exhale feeling relieved I’m home. I remove my stilettos before I jump out of my truck. The way the crushed concrete feels pressed against my feet. It feels great. Don’t get me wrong. I love my sexy high heels but I also want to down on the ground.
My hairy ninety pound Rottweiler Mufasa and miniature Dachshund Mulan greets me at the door. We’ve always had Mulan, but two years ago my kids and I saw Mufasa hurt on the road. Jocelyn cried begging me to stop. When we pulled up, we noticed his leg was broken. His ribs protruded and I can tell he was dehydrated. Poor thing. My kids helped me carry his heavy butt to my truck. We took him to the vet and they kept him overnight for observation. The next day, the veterinarian called and informed me they were taking him to the pound since he was a stray dog. I brought my kids to visit him at the pound and the three of us fell in love with him. He was just too precious and loving. The pound processed the adoption papers and that’s when we added another member to our family. People thought I was crazy for allowing a stray Rottweiler live with us. But a dog will only be mean if you treat it mean. Right? If you love them forever, they will protect you from harm.
They follow me upstairs into my bedroom. I put my business phone on vibrate, and tuck it under my sock drawer. When I’m not working, I check the phone in the mornings and right before I go to bed. I do not like to worry about my business when I’m home with my kids. I change into something more comfortable. Blue jeans, t-shirt, and cowboy boots it is. The best thing about my job is some days I get to wear my dominant executive business woman attire which shows my provocative side and most days I get to be my laid back self in my denim, tank, and flip-flops.
My personal cell phone rings, and its Victoria. My friend Victoria loves to play the matchmaker. Since Max passed away, she thinks I’m lonely so she’s always trying to set me up with guys she thinks I would hit it off well with. But I’m not lonely at all. I have my two wonderful kids who always keep me busy.
“Hello.”
“Hey girl it’s me. Ah do you have any huge ice chest we can borrow for Sunday?”
Could she sound any more obvious? “Yeah I have a couple. How many do you need?”
“Just one. I want to make sure we have enough.”
Matt and Victoria throw parties and get togethers at least once a month, so I know they have plenty of ice chest and all the other gears to throw these shenanigans. But I’ll play along just to ease my friend’s mind. “Ok will do.”
“See you guys Sunday.” The excitement in her voice makes me laugh inside. She is so certain I will like this mystery man.
I hang up, push my phone into my back pocket; shaking my head, because I know exactly what Victoria is doing. I pour sweet tea into a glass mug, and start working outside in the yard. The sun is beaming, the wind is blowing just right, and the smell of privacy is incredible. Mufasa and Mulan roam the yard, while I work. They have so much space to run and play. Four years ago, I bought five acres of land, and hired contractors to build our house to my specifications and had the house built right dap in the middle of our land. My daughter Jocelyn loves animals and promises me she’ll be a veterinarian when she gets older, so I filled our land with animals. For my baby to be ten years old, she is already an excellent veterinarian. Having this much free space is awesome. I inhale absorbing everything around me. Nothing bets going outside and smelling different animal poops. The perks of country living. I grab a bucket
, scoop dried corn, grain, sunflower seeds, and dried mealworms, and mix it together in the bucket. I unlock the chicken coop and pour the concoction into their feeder. We have forty hens and five roasters, and Jocelyn named every single one of them, but I can never remember who’s who. The hens lay tons of eggs daily. Most of which we eat. But while I was refilling their water containers I notice three chicks hatched. I run to the red barn, and grab the oval tin bucket, fill it pine flake shavings, and run back to the coop. Carefully, I cup my hands together and rests the chick one by one into the tin bucket. I lock the coop and walk back to the barn. After placing the chicks in the incubator, I turn on the heat lamp and timer. They look so itty bitty. It reminds me of when my kids were babies. Now they’re growing up so fast. Before I know it, they’ll be moving out on their own. Oh the thought of my babies leaving me kills me. I know as a parent we should want our kids to venture out on their own to live life the way we’ve taught them to be. But if I could, I would want them to live with me forever. Shit my land is big enough to build two extra homes in my backyard.
Our baby goats Rainbow and Smurf follows me into the barn; I sit on the floor and pet them. When they see their mother Tinker pass by, they chase her down the yard and once they caught up with her, they latch onto her nipples and start sucking her milk. I stand and rub Tinker's head and continue working on the yard. The kiddie pool needed to be emptied so I huff and puff as I’m lifting the pool to remove the stagnant water and replace it with clean fresh water. There’s this guy next door who offered to build me a pond for our ducks. He said he can install a filtration system and siphon pump so it would be less work for me. But when guys do favors, they usually expect something in return. So I’ll rather find a business who can build me a pond, I pay them, and I do not owe them any sexual favors. I think I’ll have that done when the kid are in their summer vacation.
Rent Me By The Hour Page 3
