The Dean’s List Page 4
Out of habit, I began to clear the table. She pressed her hand on top of mine and shook her head.
“River, your days of cleaning up other people’s messes are over. We hire out for that. You and Jade should go out to eat. In fact, I’ll have Merilee make you reservations at Smith and Wollensky’s. They have the best steaks around. They also have an amazing raw bar. Dinner is on me.”
Never in my wildest dreams had I thought my day would look anything like this. Jade, an escort. Sandra, my potential boss. The possibility of eight thousand dollars a month, and now, dinner at Smith and Wollensky’s. I felt like I was being pranked.
She escorted us through the secret door to Merilee’s desk and instructed her to call a car and make the necessary arrangements for dinner. Sandra was sleek and sophisticated, confident, and completely capable of taking on the world. I’d just met my idol. I wanted to be her.
The chairs by the window offered the perfect position to watch for our car and the next interviewee. Like a hawk, I watched the door, wondering who would enter. Would she be beautiful and charming? I hoped she would come before our car arrived so I could appraise my competition. Would she be able to hijack my offer?
The door swung open, and the hottest guy I’d ever seen walked in. Dressed in a tailored black suit, he could have walked off the pages of the financial times. He was a cross between a sexy day trader and a Dolce and Gabbana model. He walked up to Merilee and in a deep timbre said, “I’m Luca Gregorio, here to see Sandra.” His eyes skirted the room, taking it all in. He looked our way and nodded his head. I could swear he stripped me of my clothes in a glance. Oh, his eyes could melt the panties off a girl or maybe the trousers off a man. There was no way I could compete with him. It was a good thing he was servicing a whole different clientele than I was. At least I assumed he was servicing women. Lucky Sandra, getting to strip him down.
All I knew was when I finally made it, I was signing up for The Dean’s List and I was getting me a Luca.
Chapter 4
Jade leaned over and whispered, “Wipe the drool off your chin. He’s not for you. He’s for rent, and you can’t afford him yet.”
Yet. That was the keyword—yet. Jade stood up and straightened her dress. In all the excitement, I hardly noticed what she was wearing. Beautiful geometric shapes decorated the silk shift that came just above her perfect knees. Black pumps made her three inches taller than her five-foot-six-inch frame. A cashmere sweater hung over her shoulders. She looked like she walked out of the country club. Why had I not noticed the changes taking place in her?
Maybe it was because I could barely keep my head above water. Jade and I had shared so much of our lives together. There was so little we didn’t know about one another. Except, up until today, this.
How had she managed to keep the secret? In my self-absorbed state, was I not paying attention to anything? Had I disappointed Jade in not even noticing the changes in her?
I took one last look at Luca and sighed. If ever a man made my heart swoon, it would be him. He was there, right next to Ian Somerhalder and Alexander Skarsgård. Jade walked past me to the front door. Over her shoulder, she said goodbye to Merilee and led me out into the bustling streets of New York City.
The driver was standing next to the town car, holding the door open for us.
“Hi, Tony.” Jade breezed past the man and climbed into the back seat.
I mimicked her greeting and slid in next to her. “How do you know him? Don’t tell me he’s a perk as well?”
“No, but he’s been known to drive clients occasionally. He mostly takes care of out-of-towners.”
I reached into my purse to check my phone for messages. Nothing. I didn’t know why I looked. My phone was always idle. My life was boring. I could use a little excitement. By the time we got to the restaurant, it was nearly five o’clock. We arrived for an early dinner by New Yorkers’ standards. Tony opened the door like a personal chauffeur. I could get used to that.
Jade approached the hostess with confidence. The utterance of Sandra’s name had us ushered quickly to a private booth. I wondered if Sandra requested this particular booth since it provided privacy for a more intimate conversation. The manila envelope felt heavy in my hand.
The waiter approached and took our drink order. We decided on a nice bottle of Merlot. It was not a choice I could have made on my budget, but Jade assured me we could have whatever we wanted.
Her eyes glanced to the envelope I placed on the table. Like a strobe light in a dark room, it demanded attention.
“So, how do you think I did?” Would she tell me the truth, or would she buttercream-icing it because that was what friends did?
“She basically offered you the job right there. I think you did well. If she didn’t like you, she would have dismissed you. It’s not like she’s desperate. Do you have any idea how many girls would kill to be in your position?” She placed the neatly folded napkin across her lap.
“No, I have no idea. I’ve never sold my body before. Tell me, what makes this deal any better than the rest? What separates it from a pimp on the corner?”
“For a smart girl, you’re so dumb. Sandra is a facilitator, not a Madame. This is a referral-only job. I referred you because I thought you might like the job, as well as the money. You are intelligent, sexy, and funny as all get out. It’s a good combination. That’s what’s good for them. What’s good for you starts with the clientele. All the men are vetted. No records. Business leaders. Lots of disposable income. You don’t have to worry about your safety. Hell, I might even go as far as saying you wouldn’t have to worry about diseases, but there is never a guarantee with that. I wouldn’t ever go without a condom, no matter what, no matter whom. You certainly won’t have to worry about getting stiffed.”
Her use of the word stiffed was hilarious. Wasn’t that what we were talking about? “I imagine I’m guaranteed to get stiffed.” A giggle bubbled up from my stomach. I couldn’t help myself. The whole situation was laced with humor.
“I mean money. You’ll be paid more than you can imagine. The rate is a pittance compared to the perks.”
The waiter approached and poured a splash of wine into Jade’s glass. She swirled and sniffed and nodded as if she’d been doing it for years.
When did she become a connoisseur?
Burgundy liquid shimmered in my glass as the waiter finished pouring and disappeared. “It all sounds too good to be true. Tell me what the downside is.” I sipped my wine and thrummed my fingers over the envelope.
“It can be lonely.” Her words were direct and succinct. No emotion. Just facts. “Your time is paid for, there is no risk of an emotionally intimate relationship. You have to turn that part of you off. You’ll see people in love and feel envious. Keep your eye on the prize, and you’ll be fine.”
“The prize meaning an advanced degree with a possible job and no debt? I think I could be lonely for a while. What else?” I pulled my napkin from the table and laid it across my lap.
“The hardest thing for me was to wrap my head around the idea that I was selling sex. In essence, you’re a prostitute. I finally came to terms by referring to it as transactional sex. Everybody does something for money. I go on dates and enjoy men. Most jobs screw you; my job is just a bit more literal.” As much as I was now seeing these colossal changes in Jade’s confidence and poise, there was the feisty girl I knew and loved.
“All right, so if I open the envelope, is there going to be something in there that will scare me?” I rubbed my hand over the brown paper. It was funny how a brown envelope had the ability to change my life.
“Yes. If it doesn’t, then you probably shouldn’t take the job. No fear makes you dangerous. You’re not that girl. You’re smart and can weigh the pros and cons. What’s important is to know when you open the envelope, you have choices. It’s imperative that you take a stand on certain issues. Open the envelope, River. I’ll try to clarify everything I can for you.”
Just as I p
ushed my finger under the flap, the waiter approached to take our order. I scrambled to look at the menu while Jade ordered by memory. She rattled off her selections and returned her unopened menu to the waiter.
The waiter turned his attention to me. Oysters on the half shell were one of my favorites. After placing an order for a half-dozen oysters and a steak, I opened the envelope and pulled out the papers.
The first paper was a leaflet about Chris Chang MD. He offered all facets of family medicine from pap smears to throat cultures, all of which a working girl might need. My eyes bugged out at the next page. I fisted up, ready to slap the laughter out of her. She knew exactly what I was looking at, and she thought it was funny. I was so glad she could find humor in my shock.
“Are you scared yet?” She scooted around the horseshoe booth. The papers I gripped were now placed in front of her. A pat on the leather seat had me moving toward her without question.
“Holy shit. What the hell is blood play?” I quickly cupped my mouth, realizing I had said the words too loudly. Thankfully, no one noticed. Jade pulled a pen from her purse and set it near my hand. She placed the stack of papers in front of me and gave me a minute to adjust.
I took a sip of my wine but thought better of it and tossed the remainder back, swallowing hard. This shit just got real.
I don’t think I’ve ever been shocked into silence until that very moment. On the top of the sheet in big, bold letters were the words SEXUAL CONTRACT.
The page contained rows of descriptive sexual play. Lesser-known fetishes like Knives and Blood Play, Urination, Fecal Play, Breath Control and Electrical Current followed nipple Play, Role Play, Masturbation, and Cunnilingus. The list ended with Bondage Ropes and Tapes, Handcuffs and Restraints, Spanking, Whipping, Clamps and Other. To say I was stunned would have been an understatement. I was paralyzed with fear.
“Take a deep breath. This is like a menu—very much like the one you just ordered from. You like the oysters, I don’t. I didn’t order oysters. I chose shrimp cocktail. I will never choose oysters. It’s a limit for me. Let’s go through the list one by one, and you can choose what you’re willing to offer or try. One word of caution: it’s yes or no. Never write maybe. It’s basically perceived as a yes until proven otherwise.” She picked up the pen and began to go through the page like it was a shopping list. Mine. See aisle four for spanking and whipping, aisle two for oral pumps and electrical currents.
What the hell?
“What if I say yes to something and hate it?” My mind went straight to anal. I’d always wanted to try it, but if I hated it, I didn’t want to be stuck taking it up the ass for the next couple of years.
“You amend your contract. This is really that simple.” She started at the top of the page, which began with nipple play. I said yes. In fact, I said yes to everything until we got to vaginal fisting.
“Exactly who allows that? Oh, my God. Wouldn’t you be stretched so wide your next lover would need a two-by-four strapped to his ass so he didn’t fall in?” Jade laughed at my description. I could see her mind putting that scenario to work.
“So, I guess that’s a no.” She wrote no and moved on. We progressed several more lines before we got to anal intercourse. She turned to look at me.
“Okay, so tell me the truth. Does it hurt as bad as people say?” I looked at her as I spoke. She had never been able to fool me with those easy-to-read eyes. They widened, softened, and then glimmered with humor.
“No freaking way. You haven’t done it?” As she asked this, she dropped the pen and stared at me wide-eyed and open-mouthed. I wanted to reach inside her gaping hole and tweak her tonsils. She had been getting entirely too much enjoyment out of my shock today.
“No, I haven’t been with anyone bold enough to ask. I assume that because you’re with two guys, they take advantage of all your orifices,” I answered. My eyes pinned her in place, looking for the truth. As friends, we had talked about nearly everything. However, I didn’t think the subject of certain orifices had come up. It wasn’t like you had dinner, asked for the ketchup, and inquired how it felt to take it up the ass last night. Those are subjects reserved for drunken slumber parties. Something we had not done in years.
“Yes, well my mentors are bisexual, so we take advantage of each other’s orifices. As far as my ass, I enjoy it. It takes preparation to make it comfortable, but once in, the sensation is incredible. So, is it a yes or a no for you?” She picked up the pen and hovered next to anal intercourse.
I poured us another glass of wine as the waiter brought our appetizers. His eyes scanned the page, but he didn’t respond to the top even though it said in large font, Sexual Contract. Hell, in a city like New York, it was probably as common as a prenuptial agreement.
“Definitely yes. I want to try it if it comes up.”
Jade wrote in yes next to anal intercourse.
“It will definitely come up.” She marked fisting as a no and continued down the list.
Yes.
Yes.
No.
“What the hell is blood play?”
“It’s a no, River. Some sickos like to draw blood and lick it off you. They get hard from it. It’s dangerous and gross.” She wrote no next to it and the next two. We enjoyed our appetizers in-between contract options. She licked the cocktail sauce from her fingers and picked up the pen. “I can’t see you pissing or shitting on someone, so let’s move past those.”
No.
No.
She wrote in the remaining items as I called them. No gags, no electricity, no whipping, no clamps, the rest was fair game.
When we got to other, she asked if I had write-ins. I pondered the possibilities for a few minutes and asked her to write in no married men. I couldn’t bring myself to be a home wrecker. A marriage license implied exclusivity to me. It was a hard limit.
She tucked the papers into the envelope just as our dinner arrived. I was famished.
“How did you get this whole thing past me? Have I been that out of touch? We see each other every week, Jade. I should have noticed the great clothes, the hair, and the nails. I should have questioned the move more thoroughly. I’m an awful friend. Now I’m paying attention, I can see you’ve changed in so many ways. You’re put together… refined. You look happy.” I placed the first bite in my mouth and groaned. Amazing.
“I didn’t let on that anything had changed except for my clothes. There was no way I was wearing Wal-Mart if I had Prada in my closet. We ate at the same places, went to the same clubs. As far as the apartment, I couldn’t take you there. It would have been obvious had I done that. Now you know, so now you can visit.” There was a look of relief in her eyes. It must have been hard to keep a secret that big. Would that have been another incentive for her to want me to join? To, in some way, take away some of her loneliness?
“We went to crap clubs when you could have taken us to someplace really cool? You cheap bitch.” We looked at each other and cracked up. Several tables looked in our direction. We hunkered down and lowered our voices.
“The rest of the papers in the packet contain the legal stuff like confidentiality, etc. It’s pretty standard stuff. There are also some additional perks that will come your way if you call Sandra. She will set you up with a personal shopper who will show you how to dress for the lifestyle. You will be ushered off like a movie star to be primped and pampered. Take the night and think about it. Like I said, what happens between your legs is easy; it’s what happens between your ears that’s hard.”
“I’ll need the night to consider my options. You have to tell me one thing, though: are all the guys fat, old and wrinkled with quivering, nasty ball sacks?” I put my finger in my mouth and faked a gag. Lord, if I took this job, I was going to have to censure myself. No cussing. No faces. No inappropriate hand gestures. It would be like living at home without the hate.
“No, but I won’t lie to you. The majority of men are older. They are wealthy, so they will most likely be well-groome
d and well-mannered. That’s not to say that once you get behind closed doors, they won’t be kinky. Most of them want the girlfriend experience. If they wanted the porn star experience, they could get that by dialing 1-800 I-want-a-whore. They expect more from us. My initial experience was that most of the men wanted a companion. It wasn’t always about sex.”
“Give me some examples.” If it wasn’t about sex, then what was it about? If they wanted a companion, they could go to a coffee shop and talk the ear off a waitress. They would be in for less than five bucks if they only ordered coffee.
Jade set her plate aside. “If you decide to come on board, you will be like the shiny new penny. Your line will be ringing off the hook. The cool thing is, the first meeting is always neutral. No expectations. You meet the… let’s refer to them as mentors. You meet the mentor, and you sit down over a meal. If there’s no chemistry, there’s no second date. It’s a paid interview.” She flagged the waiter over and ordered two coffees and a dessert called Chocolate Sin.
“Jade, it just seems too easy. How does this stay secret?” I glanced at the manila envelope and thought about the contract. There was no way I would want that posted on the Internet.
“Everyone has something to lose. Discretion is paramount. That’s why you were unaware of what I was doing. Sure, the mentors have a lot at stake, but so do you. Your entire future is balanced on everyone’s ability to keep things on the down low. Many of the men will flaunt you around at meetings, events, etc., but they would never tell their co-workers you’re an escort. In most circles, you would be their date or, in a more exclusive agreement, their girlfriend. Although, as you know, you’re never really their girlfriend.”
What would it be like to stay single for years but “date” all the time? Long-term wasn’t on my radar until I graduated, but I wondered if I would miss dating. Time would tell.