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For years,I’ve trained myself to keep my emotions off my face in any work-related situation, because there’s nothing good that can come of clients being able to see what is really going on inside my head. Escorts are one part living, breathing person, and a second part walking fantasy. Emotional control has always been imperative.
But when I pull my phone away from my ear and stare at the home screen after Andries hangs up, I can’t stop the scowl that pulls at my lips. There had been a brief second when I thought he’d speak to me, but that hope quickly died when he ended the call before I could begin to say my piece.
Hearing his voice had been almost a physical pain, and the loss of that combined with his refusal not only hurt like hell, but it also pissed me off. He’s being so damn difficult, it’s ridiculous.
Charlie’s New Year's party is being held in the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, sprawling through the ornate ballroom and bar, and the energy is electrifying. It’s a damned good event, and Ishould be enjoying it as much as I can enjoy any work event, but heartbreak has soured everything for me. I should never have let myself be vulnerable. This wouldn’t be happening to me if I hadn’t!
The lights are low, and there’s a small group of string players providing ambient music that can be heard between the snatches of conversation. There’s an impressive turnout, and it’s a miracle I’d even had time to sneak away and try to call Andries. I’d been helpless, though, when the countdown was over, and everyone had locked lips in celebration of a new year and all the beautiful things that came along with it.
Charlie had been next to me, dapper and clean cut in his suit, top three shirt buttons undone, while everyone rang in the new year. I allowed him to lean close enough to kiss my cheek briefly and was grateful when he didn’t press the issue further, just murmuring, “Happy New Year, beautiful Roxanne,” before returning to mingle amongst his crowd.
Unlike Karl, Charlie had taken my early retirement in stride, being disappointed but otherwise understanding my need to stop escorting to focus on the escort business itself. It was why I had agreed to join some of my girls that had been hired for the night, spread across the gathering like shimmering little jewels meant to charm guests and provide entertainment in the sultriest of ways. I, on the other hand, kept my involvement strictly to the charming conversation portion, both available and untouchable all at the same time.
Charlie had been thrilled to see me arrive with the other girls and was more than happy to let me join them in partaking in the open bar. Coming to the party had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, so I’d have something to do that would get Andries off my mind. Wearing a silky silver dress that hugged every curve of my body and hung off my shoulders, I stayed perfectly on theline between sexy and classy, and I’m enough of a professional to interact with everyone.
Everyone’s inhibitions are slowly but surely falling to the wayside as the night goes on, everyone except for my girls, that is. They drink little and spend their time winding other guests around their fingers with nothing but a smile and brush of fingers. The newer girls still draw attention, but the more experienced girls are impossible to resist. Men and women alike stop in their tracks to speak with them, dance with them, or anything else that will keep them around a little longer. My little sirens… It’s a good night for business, no doubt.
Throwing myself into work has been my saving grace, but as the night wears on, the more my thoughts begin to wander back to my ex. I shouldn’t have called him… it was a moment of weakness, but it’s too late now. I should have stayed in my office all night pouring over paperwork, applications, and client lists, streamlining everything to an inch of its life while also staying busy. This party, the romance and joy of it, is only making me feel worse by the minute.
Making up my mind, I quickly finish the glass of wine I had been nursing, setting it down on the bar-top with a clink, and scoping out the quickest way to escape the situation. I’ve made an appearance, proven I’m not a recluse to myself, my employees, and the public, and now I can go home and feel bad for myself in peace.
Sleep had been scant for me lately, every restless few minutes I managed to grasp filled with memories and images of Andries. As foolish as missing him makes me feel, it’s nothing compared to the emptiness that is left behind.
I push through the crowd, smiling and stopping for a quick word with a few people, wearing my capable businesswoman facade like a suit of armor. I’m almost to the main lobby when I run into someone, and unlike the rest of the guests, this onedoesn’t move out of my way. Instead, I run into him almost head on, and he catches me by the elbows as if to steady me. Except, I hadn’t lost my balance. Not even close.
Looking up, I feel a hot flash of anger cut through my melancholy. It’s not just a random person, too distracted to have any social awareness. It’s Karl, and his mere reappearance in my life makes my skin crawl.
“Roxanne,” he says, his voice unusually polite and even pleased to see me. “I’d seen a few of your girls flitting about, so I hoped I’d see you here.”
I jerk myself out of his grasp and step back. “You’ve seen me. Now move, please.”
He looks astonished at my reaction. “Why so hasty? Don’t you want to catch up with me? I know we’ve got some unfinished business, but I hope it won’t affect our friendship.”
I can’t help it. I snort in a rather unladylike fashion. “Certainly you aren’t insinuating that we are friends, Karl?”
For some reason, he finds my comment rather funny and his lips twice into a smirk. “Well, you are aware I’d rather that we be lovers, but you’ve taken that off the table, so…”
I tilt my chin up stubbornly. “I don’t know how this has escaped you, but we were never friends. We were never lovers. You were just a client, Karl, and nothing more. Now your nasty behavior has made it so we can’t even be business associates, but you burnt that bridge yourself, so please get out of my way.”
His face, which I once considered handsome in that way that older gentlemen can be, turns ugly as he sneers. “I heard about your little breakup, by the way. Didn’t I tell you karma would come for you, eventually?”
Infuriated, I try to push past him, and this time I make it, slipping past his larger frame and making a beeline for the exit. Before I can get there fully, I feel Karl grab my shoulder, andI whip around to give him a piece of my mind. Before I can, though, he holds up his hands in a gesture of surrender.
“I apologize. That was out of line.” He clears his throat and has the decency to look slightly embarrassed. “I’ve got a private booth in the VIP area of the bar. Let me buy you a drink.”
I pause, biting back my scathing retort in my confusion. “Karl, the drinks are free. Have you been paying for them?”
He laughs. “What I’ve bought is certainly not on the open bar's menu tonight, Roxanne. Come on, let me get you something special to apologize for my behavior.”
I should say no. I really want to. But on the other hand, verbally tearing Karl to shreds seems to be a smidgen more entertaining than going home and crying into my pillowcase for the millionth time.
I don’t trust Karl, not even for a second, but I have to admit being able to drop the put together facade would be nice, and Karl apparently already knows all my shame and heartbreak, so what did it even matter?
“Fine. But it better be something impressive.”
Behind the main area of the bar there is a thick red curtain that separates the VIP area. I follow Karl, smelling thick cigar smoke rolling out from the cordoned off area, swatting Karl’s hand away when he tries to lay it on the small of my back as he holds the curtain aside.
The VIP lounge reminds me of some secret club that only blue-blooded first-born sons would be allowed into, all dark reds, greens, and dark wood made shiny with years and years of use. There are about a dozen patrons back here, including Charlie, who gives Karl and I a quick nod before returning to his in-depth conversation with another man who has one of my girls perched in his lap like a sparkling accessory. I catch her eye, and she gives me a quick wink, rubbing two fingers together belowthe man's eye-line in the universal sign for “money,” and I offer her a knowing grin in response.
