“I’m sorry, I meant no disrespect. I just had to know. I could never… that’s just something I couldn’t do.”
“It’s a common misconception; escort businesses have been given a bad name by companies who disguise themselves as providing escorts when they really provide prostitutes. My clients have no problem finding a woman to be intimate with them, what they come to me for is something more than sex. They want someone who they can spend a few hours with who won’t expect flowers the next day or a diamond ring on their finger in a week. Sometimes all they want is to conduct business but the people who they are conducting business with assume there is something wrong with them because they don’t have a wife, girlfriend, husband or boyfriend to bring to dinners.”
“Why me?” I blush when I realize I asked the question aloud.
“Kenzie… whether or not you know it, you’re beautiful. You have this innocence about you that I know many of my clients will find endearing. You’re not the type of woman who dresses incredibly sexy or tries to get into a man’s pants and go for his wallet. From what I can tell, you haven’t had any plastic surgery; the natural look is very appealing to most of my clients. You’re polite but can handle yourself when necessary as well. These qualities are highly sought after for business events. My clients want someone who can hold polite conversations with their business associates but can also hold their own if they need to leave their side for a few minutes.”
“I…”
“I’m sure these are qualities you don’t even see in yourself, but I’ve made it my business to get to know everyone I come in contact with. I think this could be a good opportunity for you … you wouldn’t have to work two jobs any longer and could afford to move out of that neighborhood you live in—“
“Wait… how do you know where I live?”
“I ran a background check on you, of course, dear,” she answers as if it’s nothing. “Before I approached you about this opportunity, I needed to know if you would hold up to public scrutiny. It’s possible you would be photographed at events with clients and I needed to know what the press could dig up on you.”
“There shouldn’t be anything…” I try to figure out what could be on a background check about me. I’ve never been arrested or in trouble of any kind.
“There wasn’t anything to worry about. Looks like you had bad luck a few years ago: a tumble down the stairs landed you in the emergency room with several broken ribs and a gash on your arm requiring stitches—“
“You could access my medical records? That’s confidential!”
“For the right price anyone can access anything, Kenzie,” she sighs. “I needed to make sure that I knew everything that the press could find out about you.”
“Shouldn’t that be my choice? I haven’t accepted your offer!”
“Yet,” she corrects. “You haven’t accepted my offer yet. Kenzie, I know this feels like I invaded your privacy but I didn’t know much about you before I ran these background checks. I doubt the store ran detailed background checks but even if they did, it wouldn’t be as in depth as mine. I needed to know you were trustworthy before I even could approach you about this.”
“I… I don’t know what to say, Bridget,” I sigh heavily. What she says makes sense but I’m still angry that she could access my medical records. However I’m relieved that even if she accesses all of them, she won’t find anything else. There is nothing there to raise suspicion, nothing to make someone take a second look…
“Will you consider my offer? Kenzie, I have men and women who work for me don’t have to work other jobs to pay bills. This could get you out of your apartment and into a place where you wouldn’t have to worry about walking out your front door at night or that the police might barge through your door at any moment because your neighbor is dealing drugs. You wouldn’t have to scrimp and save every penny. You wouldn’t have to work ten, twelve or fifteen hour long days.”
“I don’t know, this is a lot to take in.”
“Take some time, think about my offer. If you agree, one simple date could pay your rent for a month.”
“Seriously?” I ask dumbfounded that she could be offering me that much money.
“Yes,” she says straight faced. “Depending on the length of dinner, assuming it’s just the two people, you could earn a minimum of $500 per hour. Most dinner dates will last at least two hours, sometimes longer. Then you figure in a movie, play or opera afterwards and your dinner now lasts four to five hours which means you earn a minimum of $2000. After the first date, your rate is increased by $100 per hour. After the first month, the rate is increased further. Social or business events have different rate ranges based upon the number of people in attendance, the expectations the client has and if publicity is required—“
“Publicity?”
“Sometimes, clients want to publically be seen with a date at an event. If this is required, the price is higher because it puts you in newspapers and magazines.”
“I see.”
“All of your expenses are covered, any clothing that is required for dates or events is charged to my account. As you know I have many accounts at different stores throughout the city; you simply pick out an outfit and charge it to my account. The outfit is yours at the end of the night.”
“So the clients at the store…?”
“Clients and employees, all of them,” she confirms.
“Wow...” I don’t know what else to say.
“Kenzie, take a few days and think about my offer. Think about the doors it could open for you. Think about what you could do with extra money in your pocket every month. My staff are going back to school, raising children on their own, helping to pay for medical bills for sick family members or even just paying off debts. Think about what you really want to do with your life. Do you want to work two and three jobs forever?”
“No,” I whisper.
“Here is a contract, take it home and read through it. Call me in two days with a decision. If I don’t hear from you in 48 hours, I will have your answer.”
Chapter 6
Kenzie
Holy Shit… holy shit… holy shit.
That’s all I can think about on the cab ride home. Bridget insisted on paying for a cab when she learned I arrived by bus and subway. I don’t mind taking public transportation but I guess to someone like her, it’s a foreign concept. I can’t imagine what this cab ride must be costing her, since I don’t live remotely close to this area of the city but when I tried to object, she wouldn’t of hear it. So now I’m sitting in the back of a cab that is weaving in and out of traffic repeating holy shit to myself hundreds of times. I’m holding the folder tightly in my hands, almost afraid to open it to look at the contract that she says is in here. I can’t possibly read a contract when I haven’t even digested what she just told me. As I think about the people on her account that I have shopped for in the last year I suppose it makes sense. There are girls I dress for formal and business casual events, men who are dressed in suits and fitted tuxes and of course the gentleman that was shopping for a business trip the other day and needed clothes for his “girlfriend.”
“Ma’am, is this the correct address?” The cab driver pulls me from my thoughts.
“Yes,” I confirm after glancing out the window at the graffiti covered building in front of me.
I thank the cab driver and head up the steps to the entrance of my building just as the cab pulls away. There is a guy drunk or high leaning against the door, he’s passed out and doesn’t even move as I approach him. I cringe at the thought of stepping near him but as I clear my throat to get his attention, he doesn’t even flinch. My hand grips the knife in my purse fiercely as I take a step forward, prepared to defend myself if this low life suddenly moves.
I quickly rush through the door, closing and locking it behind me the moment I enter the stairwell. The door is supposed to be locked at all times, residents are the only ones who should have a key but of course the door is rarel
y locked and I’ve seen people who don’t live here entering the building without bothering to ring a bell. Other than a few derogatory comments thrown at me when I first moved in here almost a year ago for the most part whoever is outside leaves me alone. I still carry the knife in my purse at all times though, because I can never be too careful.
I quickly enter my apartment, shutting and locking the deadbolt behind me as I turn on the lights. It’s nearly ten o’clock, I’m not sure where the night went but I guess I was at the restaurant a lot longer than I thought. I’m too tired right now to think about what Bridget said or even consider reading the contract. I have a full day tomorrow, working both jobs so I need to get to bed soon. I quickly change into a pair of pajamas and toss my dress into the ever growing pile of laundry that sits in the corner. At some point in the next few days I need to find the time to do laundry or I won’t have clean clothes to wear to either of my jobs. The problem, of course, is that today was really my only free evening, as I’m scheduled to work both jobs for the next three straight days. While the paycheck will be nice, working a minimum of 36 hours in 3 days is not something I enjoy doing. I’d prefer to have at least half a day off in between double shifts but the two companies don’t exactly coordinate my schedule with each other so sometimes it ends up like this.
I know I need to find a couple of hours tomorrow to review the information that Bridget sent me and to really process what she told me. My initial thought during dinner was that she was crazy, that there was no way in hell I would consider her offer, that I have too much pride to do what she is suggesting. But as I sit in my crappy apartment in this shitty neighborhood with no real future ahead of me, I have to admit that I would be crazy to not at least consider her offer.
I force myself to stop thinking about the offer tonight because I know if I don’t stop, I will be up all night which will just make for an even more exhausting few days. Despite the neighbors loud arguing next door, I quickly manage to fall asleep, vowing to focus things tomorrow in whatever spare time I might have. I sleep soundly until the alarm buzzing wakes me up several hours later. I’m thankful whenever I sleep through the night… my nightmares have become fewer but when they hit, they usually prevent me from going back to sleep. On days like today where I have to work both jobs, I’m thankful when I do sleep through the night without a nightmare.
“Good Morning, Kenzie,” Ginny greets me as soon as I walk through the back door of the bakery.
“Morning.”
The morning passes by slowly, unlike most mornings in the bakery. I can’t seem to focus; my mind constantly wanders back to the conversation with Bridget last night. The one thing that continues to stick in my head is the amount of money she was offering to pay me for a couple of hours’ worth of work. Today I will bust my ass, work 12 plus hours and by the time the day is done, I will have earned around $150 before taxes. Around $150 for 12 hours of work… whereas Bridget is offering me almost 5 times that amount per hour. Am I stupid for not agreeing to it right away?
The thought of being able to live in a nicer neighborhood, one where I don’t have to walk past people who are drunk or high just to get into the building sounds attractive as well. I could work only a few nights a month and have all my current bills covered. Add in a few more days and I would be able to afford a small apartment in a decent area of New York. But what type of job security is there in this type of… business? Would there be enough work to cover my rent every month? What happens if business slows down? Does this type of business slow down?
As the morning wears on, I realize I have far more questions than I thought was possible. The more questions I have the more I realize that I’m actually at least half way considering this offer. I have to admit the thought of not struggling as much financially is what is driving me to at least think about this and not just say hell no to Bridget. I’ve always wanted to go back to college; I looked into taking online classes years ago but I was forbidden from doing so. What if this job could pay enough to allow me to begin taking classes again? Bridget said some of her staff were paying their way through college by working for her. Could I do something like that?
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Kenzie,” Ginny calls as I punch out for the day.
“Have a good day, Ginny.”
A subway and bus ride later, I’m back in my crappy apartment eating a bowl of instant noodles cooked on a hot plate for lunch. Not the healthiest option, but when you only have a few extra bucks to spare, crappy food always wins over healthy food. As I wait for my food to cool, I decide to make a list of questions for Bridget.
1) Safety:
How will my safety be ensured?
What kind of background checks are performed on the clients?
Will dates always occur in public places?
What options do I have if something happens on a date?
2) Communication:
I don’t want clients knowing where I live… how is that handled?
How are the dates set up? Does the client call me directly?
3) Pay:
How many hours per week is typical?
Are there times during the year when business slows down?
Can most girls maintain an average number of hours?
4) Publicity:
How will reporters/press not tie me back to your company?
How do I respond if I’m approached outside of a date and asked how I met someone I was seen with?
5) Clothing:
I don’t believe I can shop where I work. Are there other options?
6) Control:
Will I be able to refuse a date?
As I look over my list of questions I’m satisfied that I have covered most of the key areas. Question one is a big one for me, I need to ensure that no matter what happens I will be safe at all times. I can’t see myself going to some stranger’s house to meet him for dinner no matter how clean his background check is. I know all too well, things can get left off background checks and sometimes not everything is reported to authorities, even when it should be. I could never trust someone so completely that I would take them at their word that the person I’m meeting wouldn’t hurt me. Could I ever go to someone’s house alone even, if we went out several times?
I don’t know… I need Bridget to realize that I have more trust issues than most people do and that’s not something I’m willing to compromise on. Dates in public places I can deal with, there are options. If I felt threated I would have no problem making a scene to ensure my safety. Given what Bridget has told me about her clients, they would probably be on their best behavior in public because they wouldn’t want to make a scene. Unfortunately people can put on a great front in public and become the devil in the privacy of their own home as I’ve learned.
I still have a couple of hours before I need to report to the store so I spend some time reviewing the contract and realize I probably should have done this before making my list of questions but I figure I can always edit the list if need be. I don’t know much about contracts but it seems pretty straight forward to me. The contract addresses my communication question: it specifically states all requests for dates must go through Bridget and prohibits staff and clients from setting up their own dates. I like this idea actually—it gives me the opportunity to say no without worrying about hurting the other person’s feelings. I like that I can’t be pressured into agreeing to a date. The contract confirms what Bridget told me earlier that there is to be no sexual contact between the client and the staff at any time while one or both of us is under contract. Again, this is something I like. I don’t want to be treated like a prostitute for the man to be expecting sex from me at the end of the night.
The contract further states that an addendum will be signed for every date. A sample addendum is attached to the contract which again seems pretty straight forward. The addendum lists the rate per hour for the date, the expected length of the date with a note that this may vary but if it is going to exceed on additional hour the
client is obligated to inform the agency of the change and then it requires me to list what physical contact I am agreeable to.
The physical contact options are pretty neutral which is what I would expect since the contract prohibits any sexual contact. Physical contact options include: hand holding, kiss on the cheek, kiss on the lips, hand wrapped around waist, hand on hip and dancing. I prefer no kissing on the lips, however I could see if a client is trying to show that we are romantically linked they may feel this is necessary. I decide to discuss that with Bridget and determine if it’s something that can be changed after meeting with a client.
While working at the store, I can’t help but look at the clients on Bridget’s contract differently. I worked with two individuals directly tonight and then put aside items for others; the entire time I’m wondering are they clients or staff that work with Bridget? Are they getting ready for a date tonight? I wish I had the nerve to ask them about how they know Bridget but of course the NDA I signed last night prohibits me from asking plus I would be too embarrassed to know the answer. With my mind somewhat more focused on work than it was this morning, the night goes by faster than I expected. When I’m on break I decide to call Bridget and see if she is willing to meet again to discuss her proposition.
“Good evening, Kenzie,” she answers on the first ring.
“Hi Bridget… I hope I have caught you a good time?”
“Of course, I’m just in between meetings so I have a few minutes.”
“I was wondering if you would be available to meet to discuss… things further?”
On His Terms (The Arrangement Series Book 1) Page 6
