The Escort (2 page)

For a woman who had always played it straight, always done the sensible thing, this was crazy. However, when she looked at him, it didn’t feel wrong. He wasn’t the spray tanned gigolo she was expecting. If anything he looked as nervous as she felt, maybe that was part of the act, she didn't care, it put her at ease.

“If I’d known we were coming here I’d have bought a new suit.” He straightened his tie, looking at her for reassurance, but then remembered himself and squared his shoulders.

It was quite an act, he must know how devastatingly handsome he was. Max knew that every woman in the restaurant would be looking at him, as they walked in. She also knew that the only reason he would ever go out with a woman like her was because she was paying him.

Not allowing this to dampen her spirits, she walked up to the door, jumping back a little when his hand reached in front of her.

“Ladies first,” he said, holding the door open for her.

“Thank you.”

An old fashioned gentleman, she hadn’t met one of these in a while. “Paid to do this,” she reminded herself again. Even so, she appreciated the gesture, and walked into the dimly lit restaurant. Very exclusive, and not the place she normally ate at, it had taken a phone call to the owner, one of her clients, to beg a table. In the end he had only been too happy to help her. Although Max knew she would probably pay for it at their next meeting.

Whatever, it was worth it to see all the barely concealed looks of interest they attracted as they were swiftly and discreetly seated.

“Thank you,” Drake said, when the waiter handed them the menu.

Max glanced up from her own, and watched his face pale when he saw the prices, but he kept his mouth shut. He intrigued her, surely women had taken him to dinner at places like this before. Or did they just use him for sex.

Wrong thought, her mouth suddenly became very dry. Reaching for the glass of ice cold water in front of her, she took a big gulp to dampen her ardour, and nearly choked. People turned and looked, but Drake didn’t notice, only showing concern.

“Are you alright, Max?”

“Fine. Sorry.” She placed the glass down on the table, carefully. The last thing she wanted to do was compound her actions with clumsiness. “I’m a bit nervous,” she admitted, when the waiter, frowning with distaste, moved away to allow them time to make their selections. Max thought the stuck up little man wanted to distance himself from her awkward display.

Drake reached over and placed his hand over hers. “Relax, I’m not going to eat you.”

More’s the pity. She pushed the thought away, far away, and the need escape took over her. This was wrong. Anyone could see it. He was too perfect for her, everyone in the room would know she was paying him. There was no way she could go through with this for a minute longer.

And then the impossible happened. Phil Draper, a work colleague, and the kind of man who knew exactly how good looking he was, walked in. His arrogant stare hit her full in the face, there was no where to hide, he had already spotted her, her face paled.

Drake gave her another concerned look. “Are you sure everything is alright, Max?”

But before she could warn him, Phil was making a beeline for their table, his trophy wife trailing behind.

“Hello, Maxine. So you do have a man. We were all taking bets you would turn up alone tomorrow. Nice to meet you...” Phil held out his hand to Drake.

As he opened his mouth to speak, Max saw her career rushing past before her eyes. With no time to get their story straight, she knew that this might be the end of everything she had ever worked for.

“Dan.” Her escort shook hands with Phil, and smiled at his beautiful wife.

“Hi Dan.” They shook hands warmly, while Max tried to keep her mouth from hanging open. “Will we be seeing you at the dinner tomorrow?”

“I sure hope so, Phil.” He looked behind Phil, and held out his hand to his wife. “Hi there, I hope I will see you there too.”

Phil’s wife took his hand, and introduced herself. “Amy. Good to meet you Dan.”

There was an unmistakable frisson in the air. Phil looked frostily at what passed between his wife, and Max’s boyfriend. Out matched by Dan, he steered his wife away, saying, “We’ll catch up tomorrow, if we don’t get seated soon they’ll give our table away,” as he walked away.

Dan took a sip of water, grinning to himself.

Max fumed. “I didn’t know I was paying you to make eyes at other people’s wives. Dan” She emphasised the last word.

He placed the glass on the table, before looking at her. Max tried to stop her eyes been drawn to his mouth, which she wanted to kiss more than anything else in this world. His tongue slipped out and he licked a droplet of water off his lips, and she had to clasp her hands together to stop herself reaching out and wiping it away with her fingertip. What would his lips feel like, soft, or would the stubble on his chin feel coarse against her skin?

“I’m sorry, Max.” His voice pulled her back to reality. “I thought Dan might fit better than Drake. And if you want to have an in depth conversation about our relationship in front of Phil, I’ll call him back over.” He turned towards Phil’s table.

“No,” she said sharply.

He’d called her bluff. “I’ve found that quickest way to get rid of a man is to threaten him.”

Of course he was right. He had read the situation perfectly, and avoided any embarrassment. So she let it go, instead picking up something else he’d said. Dan, if that was even his real name fascinated her. “But you didn’t say anything threatening.”

“Oh, I think I threatened his ego. And I believe Phil has a big ego. We all have our vulnerable sides. Phil’s is his wife, who he knows is only with him for his money.”

“You can’t know that.”

“No? Look at their body language. She trails around after him, he makes it clear who is the boss. They might love each other, but it’s not the foundation their relationship sits on.”

“Do you meet a lot of married women?”

He smiled. “I am not going to answer that. Like you said, I am here for you, and you deserve my undivided attention. So let’s just say I have met my fair share of people, and you get to know how people react, their motives, things like that.”

She relaxed. “Sorry. I over reacted. Phil’s always so superior, even though we’re colleagues, on a level footing, he thinks he’s more valuable than me. Most men do.”

“And is that what you believe? That they’re more valuable than you.”

“No. I know my worth.”

“You’re a strong woman, Max, and a beautiful one. But I think deep down you are insecure.”

“OK. I didn’t invite you here as my shrink.” She picked up her menu, and hid behind hit, stung by the truth of his words. “Shall we order?”

“If you’re ready,” he said, and picked up the menu to study.

She wanted to ask him what he liked, to know everything about him, but that was probably a closed book too. So she made her own choice, and placed her menu down while he continued to look at his. When the waiter returned they ordered, only later did she realise he had gone for the cheapest things on the menu. Although she had no idea why, unless he thought she was going to ask him to pay for the dinner out of his fee.

Dinner was more awkward than she ever imagined, the sensations travelling through her body, seemed to have one purpose, to turn her brain to mush. Despite having spent her life perfecting her small talk, it made up for her lack of attractive figure, she could think of nothing to say to him.

The topic of the weather was soon exhausted, and the silence between them stretched.

Risking a glance at him, he didn't seem to show any tension at all, but then she guessed he was used to this. Taking desperate women out for dinner, listening when they wanted to talk, and kissing them when they didn't. Wrong thought, heat crept through her body, and not only the good kind. What if there were damp patches under the arms of her dress? Now she wished she hadn't gone for the sapphire blue. It would give her away pitilessly.

"So what do you like doing?" His voice cut through her reverie.

"Doing? Well I work in banking, there's not much to like about that, other than the money I guess."

"Life's not all about work, Max. What do you like to do, in your spare time?"

That question stumped her. "Well, I used to like to dance."

"Used to. Does that mean you don't any more?"

"Work kind of took over my life. When I got promoted I was expected to be in the office before everyone else, and I usually end up leaving after them too."

"So you enjoy being in charge?"

"Not always." She blushed furiously, thinking how much she would love for him to be in charge of her body, of her whole self, bending her to his will. "But being a woman," she stumbled on, "It seems I'm expected to work twice as hard, put in lots of overtime, but I still don't get invited to the ball games. Try as I might, I will never be one of the guys."

"Thank heaven for that. I much prefer you as a woman." He smiled at her obvious embarrassment. "You need to learn how to take a compliment. You're a very attractive woman Max. I can't believe you don't know that."

"I... Oh. Is this part of your spiel, you know butter her up, flatter her to make her feel better about herself?"

"You think I'm that shallow?"

"No, but this is your job, isn't it? My line of work is money, and account numbers, yours is being nice to desperate women."

"This is not a job. And I don't think you're desperate. I think you've spent a long time working on getting yourself where you are today. You should be proud. But you also need to see that life has more to offer than work."

"You sound like Robin."

"And who's Robin?"

"My friend, the one you spoke to... she arranged all this."

"Oh, Robin. Of course. So what's her advice?"

"That I should change my priorities if I don't want to end up a lonely spinster. It was her idea, all this. I wanted her to come with me to tomorrow's dinner. She said we would look like a pair of lesbians."

"And are you?"

"Am I what?" Max suddenly realised what he was asking. "Oh. No. Not at all. No lesbians here. Not that I have anything against them," she hastily corrected.

"I am glad to hear it."

Max blushed, the intent in his voice obvious. But on this she was sticking to her guns. There was no way she was going to pay for sex."

Silence covered them again, only broken when their first course arrived. It looked beautiful, it also looked far from filling, and her stomach gave an involuntary growl. It yearned for something satisfying and filling, she had only come here to impress her escort. It seemed faintly ridiculous now, and the expression on his face summed up her own emotions. A pizza would have been much better, but it was too late now.

"That was delicious," he said, having finished his starter in two mouthfuls.

Max giggled. "I hope the main is a little more substantial."

"So you don't dine here regularly?"

"No. One of my clients owns the place. I thought it would be a good place for us to talk, and get our story straight."

"Ahh, our story. So how did we meet?" He lifted her hand and pressed his lips to it. Her body threatened to explode, her eyes dilated as she watched those full lips touch her skin lightly.

"I... W... Where did we meet." She wondered what he had done to her, in that one moment he had shocked her body awake. Only when she looked up to see Phil crossing the restaurant towards the rest room did she realise what he was doing, and how she had over reacted. But he didn't let it her go, turning her hand over and tracing his fingers around in circles while his eyes met hers, full of humour, fully aware of what he was doing to her body.

"Yes, Max. Where did we meet? I like the beach. Perhaps you were there, in the ocean, and I was walking along, unable to resist the way the water played around your body. Then by chance I saw you again on the evening, all alone in a restaurant, waiting for someone, something. And at that moment I knew you were waiting for me."

Max cleared her throat. And what then?"

"Now it's your turn. Tell me your fantasy."

"Fantasy. I... Oh, here's our food."

Hastily snatching her hand away she put it firmly under the table, holding the napkin tight, gripping it as though her life, or her sanity, depended on it. How easy it would be to fall in love with Dan, to believe his words of romance. This should be so easy, but she was falling for him. He was nothing like the men she met through work, he was so much more attentive, and so much more charming.

"Thank you," Dan said, looking at his meal.

Max stifled a giggle. "They should bill this place as the prettiest food in town."

"I was wondering where the rest of it was. If I'd have known I would have eaten before I left home."

She giggled again. "I am sorry. You are suffering because I stupidly wanted you to like me."

"There's nothing stupid about that. But I'm not the kind of guy you have to impress."

She sobered then. "No. Of course not. I forgot."

"Hey. I didn't mean it like that." He sighed, and stroked the back of her hand, which gripped her knife tightly as the sensations travelled up her arm, down her body and deep into her heated core. "I like things simple. Simple food, simple pleasures."

"So are you going to tell me anything about yourself other than you like things simple? Or is that too personal?"

He was attempting to take his perfectly presented dinner apart, looking guilty as though he was dismantling a work of fine art. "I thought we were supposed to be getting our story straight."

"I think I'm a little too concerned about Phil overhearing our plotting. So let’s go for more general stuff."

"OK. Favourite colour?"

"Blue."

"Green," he said, finally putting a small piece of food into his mouth. "It's certainly good. I could do with double portions though."

"Eat it real slow, and savour it."

"Will that make me feel fuller?"

"No." She laughed as he exaggerated chewing his food. "OK. My turn. In honour of your complaints about this very expensive restaurant. What is your favourite food?"