Breaking Into the Business (10 page)

“I
grabbed your business card on my way out,” I said.

“When
you were storming out mad?” he laughed.

“Yes,”
I smiled. “I don’t know why I grabbed it, but I just did.”

“So
you think there’s something here, too?” he asked.

Before
I could answer, the server brought our food out. I had decided to go with a
burger and it looked fantastic. I spent a minute doctoring it up. When I looked
up, I saw that he was waiting on me to finish before he started eating his
wrap.

“Are
you on a diet?” I asked.

“No,”
he said. “But I have to watch what I eat all the time. I’m getting older and in
my line of work, staying in shape is an absolute necessity. Ten years ago, I
could have eaten ten hamburgers and never gained a pound.”

“But
your body is perfect,” I said.

“Because
I eat wraps,” he smiled.

“Good
point.”

“Now,
back to my question,” he said.

“What
question?” I asked, trying to play stupid.

“Do
you think there’s a possibility of us going on a date?” he asked.

“I
would like to think so,” I said, being completely honest. “It’s hard for me to
say, because I felt a connection between us last night, but then when I found
out that you were on the job, it made me rethink everything. It’s almost like a
betrayal, but I know you didn’t mean to do that.”

“If
it makes you feel any better,” he said. “When we were actually making love, I
wasn’t thinking about the money at all. During most of my sessions with
clients, thinking about the money is all that gets me through the sex.”

“Well,
that’s nice,” I said, but I lied. It didn’t really make me feel better at all,
and I still wasn’t sure when he was being sincere.

“Would
you go on a date with me?” he asked.

“So
are you willing to give up your work to date me?” I asked.

“That’s
asking a lot,” Greg said. “I wish that I could, but honestly, this has proven
to be the only thing that I’m good at. The money is very nice and I don’t have
any other work experience. I’ve been doing this since I was a senior in
college.”

“So
you have a degree to fall back on?”

“No,”
he said. “I quit before finals that year, so I never finished.”

“Why
not?” I asked.

“I
started escorting. The money was too nice to pass up, and as I got further and
further into the business, it took more and more of my time. I was soon making
more than most people make right out of college, and I just didn’t see a reason
to finish. Clients don’t really ask about degrees.”

“What
about when you’re older?”

“I’ve
learned that clients are into all sorts of different men,” he said. “When I was
twenty-one, there were women who liked me, and now that I’m thirty-two, I have
a whole new client base. Realistically I can stay in this business into my
fifties.”

“Really?”

“Probably,”
he said. “It just depends on how well I take care of myself and my general
health.”

“So
how much do you make?” I asked.

“That’s
a little personal.”

I
blushed. “You don’t have to answer. I asked more out of morbid curiosity.”

“Honestly,
I don’t mind answering that,” he said. “For a while, I made a lot of money
because I also worked as a dancer at the Steel Hammer.”

“How
was that job?” I asked. Every woman in the city had been to the Steel Hammer at
one point in her life. It was a popular hangout for bridal parties. It was
exactly like a regular bar with one key exception. Nearly naked men danced on
stages and boxes everywhere. I had gone with the girls years ago for Betsy’s
first bridal shower, and I remember the place as very seedy.

“It
was amazing,” he said. “There were nights that it was miserable if we were
really crowded. Women grabbed at me for hours, and sometimes I’d end up with
bruises from all the pinching. But I made more money doing that in one night
than I would make in a week on my own.”

“How
do you make so much working there?”

“Well,
the tips were great, but at the end of the night, the women were practically
bidding on taking us home. I’d always end up with at least one client, most of
the time more. They would pay a lot more money for my company.”

“So
I take it you no longer work there,” I surmised.

“Not
anymore,” he said. “I decided to go my own way. Now I make about a hundred and
fifty thousand a year if I can average two hours a night at work.”

“Wow,”
I gasped. “That’s a lot of money for so few hours working.”

“It
is,” he agreed. “I’ll have one night that I spend six hours, and then I might take
a few nights off. Occasionally I have clients during the day. You know, the
bored housewives and such.”

“I
never realized there was so much money in escorting,” I said.

“There
can be a lot of money,” he said. “If I were better at my organization and
scheduling, I could clean up.”

“Sounds
like you need a pimp,” I laughed.

“Actually,
I would love to have a pimp,” he said.

I
kept laughing, holding my hand over my mouth, so that I didn’t lose any of the
bite that I had just taken. “Maybe I should just take the job,” I said after I
chewed my food.

“Really?”

It
was then that I realized he wasn’t joking. From all appearances, he appeared to
be sincere in his request.

“I
think you’d make a great pimp,” he said. “I mean, it’s basically just
scheduling.”

“Wait
a minute,” I said, holding up a hand. “You were being serious?”

“Oh
no,” he said, trying to hide his smile. “Why do we keep doing this? I swear we
have the worst time trying to read each other, don’t we?”

I
chuckled. “I appreciate that you think I’d be a great pimp for you, but I
already have a job.”

“That’s
unfortunate,” he said. “I could really use the help.”

“Just
try to adopt more precise forms of organizing,” I suggested.

“Are
you sure you wouldn’t reconsider taking the job? You could make some really
good money.”

“I
really couldn’t,” I said. “But just for curiosity’s sakes, how much does a pimp
usually make?”

“Well,
you would get a cut of what I earn per hour,” he said. “The percentage is negotiable.”

“Wow,”
I said. Maybe he had something there.

No,
I told myself. There was no way I could do that. I had to consider the children
and my reputation. Not to mention the fact that prostitution was illegal.

“I
could offer fifteen percent,” he said, pushing the issue.

“I
really can’t, Greg,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

“Well,
if you change your mind, let me know,” he said.

“So
you don’t plan on ever getting out of the business?” I asked.

“Would
that be a condition for dating you?” he asked.

“I
don’t think I could date anyone that was an escort,” I said. “It would be too
weird knowing you’re out there having sex with other women all the time.”

“That’s
too bad,” he said. “I think we really could have had something.”

“Are
you being serious?” I asked. “How do I know you’re not just trying to keep me
coming back as a customer?”

“I
guess you don’t,” Greg shrugged. “All I can do is to tell you how I feel and
it’s up to you to determine if I’m telling the truth. But do remember that, right
now I’m not at work, so I wouldn’t have a reason to lie to you.”

“I
have a suspicion that in your line of work you are always on the clock.”

We
both tried to twist the conversation around to something else at that point. He
asked me about my work, so I told him about the latest few manuscripts I had
edited. I avoided talking about Jeremy Towers, my new assignment and apparently
my new date. Somehow, that just didn’t seem appropriate to bring up at a lunch
with the man I had just paid for sex.

Once
we ate, I was in a hurry to get out of there. I enjoyed spending time with
Greg, and in an alternate universe, I could even see myself being with him
romantically, but the fact that he slept with countless women on a regular
basis was a deal breaker for me. Although it wasn’t like I had room to talk
when I considered my last twenty-four hours.

A half
hour later, I walked back into my house and set my keys on the bar. So much was
swirling through my mind, but none of that bothered me as badly as I knew it
should.

I
was on top of the world. Two men had found me attractive enough to have sex
with me. Betsy was helping me to realize my psychotic hang up, and I felt that
I was on a path to overcoming them.

The
coffee pot needed cleaning and I knew that the dishwasher was full. I walked
into the kitchen, but decided that I could leave that for the maid. She would
be in tomorrow.

I
realized that for the first time, I didn’t have an impending deadline for my
job, and the children were at school. I could have a free day. One of those
elusive periods of time that never appeared in my life.

The
phone rang just as I was about to sit on the couch. My heart dropped.

It
may have been part of my newfound desire to take control of my life or sheer
stupidity, but I decided to answer the phone.

I
expected the usual heavy breathing, but for the first time since the calls
began, I heard a voice.

“I
want my money.”

So
it was a bill collector? Was it some credit card that Frank had taken out while
we were married that I didn’t know about? There was no possible way that one of
my bills was behind. To the detriment of my bank account, I made sure all of my
stuff was current.

“Excuse
me?”

“I
want my money,” the muffled voice repeated.

“What
money is that?”

“One
hundred thousand dollars. You have three days.”

The
line went dead. What the hell was that about? Who could possibly be asking me
for such a large sum of money? My first instinct was that Frank had finally
shown back up in the picture and had run out of money. Why wouldn’t he just
approach her directly? Maybe he just felt so ashamed for leaving her and the
kids in such a lurch that he was embarrassed to show his face.

The
voice had been gruff, a very low tonal quality, which only made it impossible
to identify. I thought that I would recognize Frank’s voice if it had been his.

There
was one thing that I was certain of about the caller. He meant business. Each
time he had spoken that same sentence, I could hear the threat laced in his
voice.

I
knew from the first syllable that it was not something that I could ignore. It
appeared that I had three days to come up with one hundred thousand dollars.

Chapter Nine

It was
as if lightning had struck me square in the head. I knew exactly what I was
going to do.

The
man on the phone had asked for one hundred thousand dollars. Even combining my
savings and checking, I was still short by a good deal. I would have to sell
nearly everything in the house, and even then, I wasn’t sure I could get to
that amount. There was no way to come up with the money.

I
considered ignoring the threats or even going to the police. But what would
happen if I did that? My primary concern was, and always would be, my children.
I may not actually give the man the money, but I had to be prepared to do it if
it was needed to protect my children.

Maybe
I should call Betsy and Pearl. They would provide clear heads for a solution.
They would certainly not approve of me giving into the caller’s demands. I
really needed to know more.

However,
the truth remained that I was broke. Sure, I could afford the bills for a
little longer, but in a year, I would be out of cash. Once the children graduated
from high school, I could sell the house and move somewhere more affordable.
However, for now, I had to maintain my current residence. The problem was that
I still had four more years until Mallory graduated and that was more time than
I had money for.

My
epiphany came as I glanced at the countertop and saw Greg’s card. Was I
completely nuts by giving his offer credence? The fact remained that I needed
money and he had presented me with an offer where I could make some on the side.
All I had to do was work out a schedule for him. What was the harm in that?

I
felt immediately that my moral standards would lower if I did this, but I was
in a bind. Now my survival instincts were kicking in. If lowering my standards
were what it took for my children to get the best education, then was that so
bad? It wasn’t like I was the one going out and having sex. I would just be the
one who scheduled it.