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“And your name is? I don’t recall Poppy telling me,” I say.
“Margaret,” she responds, her lips curving up and displaying perfectly aligned white teeth. “I’m Julia’s mother.”
My heart squeezes at the last part, but I keep my uneasiness to myself. “Well, Margaret, very nice meeting you. Please have a seat.” I gesture to the white leather couch in the sitting area and Margaret follows me through.
“This is a beautiful office you have here,” she points out as she sits.
“Thank you.” I can’t help but feel a tad anxious of having her here. After all, it’s not every day that I have a noble lady paying me a visit.
“I suppose having an agency consisting of a bunch of high-end ladies pays rather well,” she says as she continues to scan around, her eyes taking in every little thing.
“It does, yes,” I reply, not sure why she made that comment in the first place. “Are you here because of what your daughter did?”
“No, dear.” Her attention returns to me, and I find her bright blue eyes glowing when she says, “I’m here because I heard you are searching for someone to take over.”
My eyes widen in surprise, and I find myself speechless for a moment. “Oh, Andries told you?”
“He did, yes.” She smiles at me, reveling in my shock.
I’m still confused as to what she wants exactly, but I decide to be honest and tell her the truth. “Yes, I’m trying to sell it.”
“May I know how much you are asking for?” she asks suddenly. I freeze for a second but then put myself together again almost immediately.
“Six million,” I disclose. “This is what the agency was able to make in the last two years in net profit.” I go to my desk and take from there a file which I hand to Margaret, before returning to sit beside her.
She puts a pair of reading glasses on, giving her an air even more aristocratic, and she stares, carefully scrutinizing the first few pages. “That’s quite impressive.” She looks up at me and I smile in return. “And you started this agency just five years ago?”
“That’s correct. We have a total of a hundred girls currently. Some make more than others, but our top ten bring us in around a hundred thousand per month in fees,” I explain while she continues perusing the company details.
“You charge how much? Thirty percent?” She asks, her eyes returning on me.
“Yes, and the agency takes care of everything, from finding high-end clients to matching them with the right girl,” I tell her, my heart bouncing in excitement at her strange interest. “The girlfriend experience is what most men are after.”
“That I don’t doubt,” she comments, her tone filled with amusement. “Do you have the financial statement and balance sheet for your company?” she asks as she continues to flip through the document.
“Sure. It’s on page twenty,” I say in a heartbeat, helping her locate the proper page.
We keep quiet for a moment while Margaret reads everything through.
“Apart from Mr. Townsend, I assume you must have a lot of influential clients who seek the companionship of your girls, no?” she asks, her eyes drifting back to me.
“We do, yes. Karl is likely theleastinfluential of them all,” I tell her. The amusement must be evident on my face because Margaret laughs as well.
“Who else do you have coming here?” she continues.
I feel torn whether or not I should disclose something so private with her, but she’s Andries’ grandmother, after all, and she seems fairly interested in the agency, so I decide to give her the name of one my former personal clients. “Um, Charlie Polinski.”
She doesn’t even look surprised when hearing his name. “The retired CEO of Polinski Bank?” I nod, a small smile playing at the corner of my lips. Somehow, I had figured out that she was a well-connected woman. “Oh, I always felt something was off with him. Who else?”
“A few deputies, former ministers, businessmen, athletes, and financiers,” I reply without batting an eye.
“Those men must be doing some serious pillow talk with your girls,” Margaret suggests.
I let out a quick chuckle. She’s so right, though.
“They do, yes. After a few sessions with them, they become more comfortable and open up like a shell about everything—marriage, business, politics… the works.”
“Well, I can see why my daughter doesn’t like you at all.” She shuts the document close, putting it on her lap. “But I, on the other hand, am delighted to have met you, Roxanne,” she says, looking at me like I’m something to be admired.
