I was running late as usual. Mike was waiting at the door to the apartment; he’s always on time. I flashed him a big smile. What did he have in the shopping bag? He’d texted, wanting to drop by with a little something for me. There was still time before the three o’clock client arrived, and I decided to invite Mike in, although he didn’t have an appointment. I opened the door and Mike, the perfect gentleman, stood to the side letting me go first. We both went into the sitting room and sat down, facing each other on the black, leather sofas.
‘Couldn’t resist it,’ Mike said, pulling a Valentine’s teddy out of the bag.
He had that coy smile on his face, not sure whether I would really like the present. But then he knows me well enough, and the rules of the trade – never contradict the client.
‘It’s sweet,’ I said, holding the teddy to my chest. It was sweet, although he’d probably got it on the cheap just after Valentine’s Day. I smiled at Mike. It was the gesture, creating one of those little moments of empathy which happen when the façade drops.
My work phone rang. I looked at it, not recognising the number. Mike watched me as I lifted the phone.
‘Hello,’ I said, my attention fully focused. The client wanted an immediate appointment. I told him that the earliest would be five o’clock.
I could see Mike studying me – his insatiable curiosity.
Five o’clock didn’t suit. I hung up.
‘Fascinating,’ Mike said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Within a few seconds you had the caller made.’
‘He’s off work early.’
Mike frowned.
‘The wife is waiting at home with the kids. She knows when he should be home – opportunity.’
‘I bet you could tell some stories?’
I chuckled and looked at Mike. He was serious. I grinned, recollecting a few of the funny incidents which had occurred working as an escort. ‘I could, but I won’t.’ I stilled my fingers. I’d been unconsciously fiddling at a piece of skin on my index finger.
My mobile rang again. I was expecting it to be the three o’clock appointment phoning for directions – he would only be given the apartment number just before the appointed time. He was a first-time client and, well, all the listening over the phone helped, but you didn’t know until you opened the door.
I looked at the number; it wasn’t the three o’clock appointment. I pressed the answer button. ‘Hello?’
A man asked in broken English if I was free. I didn’t like the sound of his voice and told him I wasn’t. He said he’d phone again. I hoped to heck he wouldn’t as his voice was way too freaky.
‘What’s wrong?’ Mike asked, sitting up.
I turned my head and looked out the window. ‘Oh, nothing.’
‘What is it?’ Mike persisted.
‘The caller, sounded a bit odd. I told him I was busy.’
‘And?’
‘He said he’d phone back.’ I stood up. ‘Mike, you’ll have to go, it’s almost three.’
I walked him to the door. He gave me a big hug and then took hold of my hands. ‘Take care,’ he said. ‘I’d hate it if something were to happen to you.’
I closed the door behind Mike, took a deep breath and tried to put the weird caller out of my mind.
‘Couldn’t resist it,’ Mike said, pulling a Valentine’s teddy out of the bag.
He had that coy smile on his face, not sure whether I would really like the present. But then he knows me well enough, and the rules of the trade – never contradict the client.
‘It’s sweet,’ I said, holding the teddy to my chest. It was sweet, although he’d probably got it on the cheap just after Valentine’s Day. I smiled at Mike. It was the gesture, creating one of those little moments of empathy which happen when the façade drops.
My work phone rang. I looked at it, not recognising the number. Mike watched me as I lifted the phone.
‘Hello,’ I said, my attention fully focused. The client wanted an immediate appointment. I told him that the earliest would be five o’clock.
I could see Mike studying me – his insatiable curiosity.
Five o’clock didn’t suit. I hung up.
‘Fascinating,’ Mike said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Within a few seconds you had the caller made.’
‘He’s off work early.’
Mike frowned.
‘The wife is waiting at home with the kids. She knows when he should be home – opportunity.’
‘I bet you could tell some stories?’
I chuckled and looked at Mike. He was serious. I grinned, recollecting a few of the funny incidents which had occurred working as an escort. ‘I could, but I won’t.’ I stilled my fingers. I’d been unconsciously fiddling at a piece of skin on my index finger.
My mobile rang again. I was expecting it to be the three o’clock appointment phoning for directions – he would only be given the apartment number just before the appointed time. He was a first-time client and, well, all the listening over the phone helped, but you didn’t know until you opened the door.
I looked at the number; it wasn’t the three o’clock appointment. I pressed the answer button. ‘Hello?’
A man asked in broken English if I was free. I didn’t like the sound of his voice and told him I wasn’t. He said he’d phone again. I hoped to heck he wouldn’t as his voice was way too freaky.
‘What’s wrong?’ Mike asked, sitting up.
I turned my head and looked out the window. ‘Oh, nothing.’
‘What is it?’ Mike persisted.
‘The caller, sounded a bit odd. I told him I was busy.’
‘And?’
‘He said he’d phone back.’ I stood up. ‘Mike, you’ll have to go, it’s almost three.’
I walked him to the door. He gave me a big hug and then took hold of my hands. ‘Take care,’ he said. ‘I’d hate it if something were to happen to you.’
I closed the door behind Mike, took a deep breath and tried to put the weird caller out of my mind.
.
or 
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