His head cocks to the side as he glimpses my bag. Muscles tense beneath his skin.
“What about the money?” He asks. I detect more than a hint of curiosity behind his words. It’s then I realise mymistake. I should have lied. As far as he knows I’m a prostitute, so it shouldn’t have mattered who came through the door. I should have been willing either way. I waspaidfor a service, and I was here to provide it.
Why is he asking me this? Why is he even assuming I would have done anything differently if he was someone else?
Not only have I given too much away, but his words are a harsh dose of reality. I just had sex with a stranger.
It’s my turn to start avoiding questions.
“What’s your name?” I ask suddenly. I can’t believe I’ve slept with someone and I don’t even know his name.
He lets out an unamused huff, but allows the redirection.
“Don’t you usually ask thatbeforeyou fuck someone?”
His words, completely unexpected, are colder and more bitter than an arctic wind, as if they intended to hurt me. It’s a slap to the face and I’m suddenly glad he isn’t facing me to see the stain of red that burns across my cheeks.
“Sorry that I’m not familiar with proper escort etiquette,” I spit, making sure to inject venom into every word as my new found feelings of liberation fly out the window. “As someone who has to pay a woman to touch him, maybe you can enlighten me?” I sit up straighter and tighten the bed sheet around me, trying to ward off the cold that’s creeping into my chest. “Am I supposed to take you for dinner first? Wine and dine you and ask your whole life story? If that’s the case you should have stipulated that when you booked. I would have said no, then.”
The words taste sour as they leave my mouth, but the shame and humiliation that’s started bubbling around in my stomach need an out. If he’s going to insult me, I’ll throw it straight back at him ten times worse. One thing I promisedmyself when I left Daniel was that I would never lie down and let someone walk all over me again, no matter how attractive they are.
He chuckles darkly, anger radiating off him in waves as I struggle to keep up with what’s happening. How did I go from riding the highest of highs just moments ago to now sitting here feeling angry and confused?
“Don’t pretend you were ever saying no to fifty grand. Apparently everyone has a price, and I found yours.”
The guy must be a fucking sadist. Who goes around paying escorts to have sex with them and then throws it back in their face? The real kicker is that the money didn’t influence my decision to sleep with him anyway. Now I wish it did, that I had an excuse to fall back on for letting this assholeinside my body.
“Trust me, you couldn’t pay me enough to repeat the experience.”
My words seem to bounce off his tanned back as he rolls his shoulders and stands, still not bothering to throw even a glance in my direction. It’s as if I hadn’t even spoken. “Order what you want from room service. I’m going to clean up.”
Then he stands and walks his gloriously bare ass into the bathroom and shuts the door behind him.
As soon asI hear the shower turn on, I act on impulse, flying out of bed and gathering my clothes from where they’ve been discarded on the floor. If he thinks I’m going to hang around and screw him again after what he said, he’s delusional. Despite what he obviously thinks, no amount of money would ever be worth that for me.
I throw my dress over my head, leaving my bra off in myhaste to leave. The water still streams behind the closed door, but I don’t want to risk the awkwardness of him catching me on the way out. I grab my coat from where it hangs over a beige chaise and chuck it on to cover my unsupported chest.
The water shuts off just as I snatch my overnight bag and shoes and reach the door. I have to swallow down panic as I wrench the door open as quickly and quietly as possible. When I pass through, I hold my breath as it closes behind me with an almost inaudibleclick.Then I sprint bare-foot down the hallway and press the call button for the elevator in a frenzy. I must hit the little square at least a dozen times before, after what feels like a lifetime, the lift arrives. I step into the well-lit carriage and force a smile towards an elderly couple holding hands in the far corner. They smile politely at me as I press the button to shut the doors, all the while my heart slams against my ribcage like a jackhammer. Honestly, the way sweat clings to my neck, anyone would think I was running away from an axe murderer. When the doors finally glide shut without the appearance of an angry, dripping wet, greek-god looking adonis making a grab for me, I release an internal sigh, slip my shoes on to my shaky feet and turn to face the couple.
“Sorry. I’m running late,” I lie, swallowing down my nerves. “Dinner plans.”
They nod politely and smile wider, even though I’m sure my returning smile looks more like a grimace at this point. I don’t even know what the time is. Was I in that room with him for one hour or three? Time slipped away in his presence, until he insulted me, and then I felt every shameful second as it passed.
The remnants of adrenaline still light my veins but I know I won’t relax until I’ve escaped the hotel completely, sowhen the lift doors open, I spill out into the lobby, walking as fast as I can towards the exit while simultaneously avoiding the scrutiny of the receptionist as I pass. I swear she knew what I was up to when I checked in, and my tangled, mussed up hair probably only confirms her suspicions.
A relieved breath slips from my throat when I finally push through the glass doors into the frigid outside air. I dial Angela as I start down the restaurant-lined street, grateful that it’s a busy Friday night and I’m not walking the streets alone. Angela answers on the first ring.
“Gianna! You didn’t text me and I’ve been worried!”
I pull the phone away from my ear and check the time.
“Angela, it’s been an hour and a half with no contact from me. I could have been murdered ten times over and you wouldn’t have even known.” So much for client safety.
“I was just about to send someone over,” she replies sheepishly. “But you’re fine. Thanks for checking in. Now go rock your client’s world.”
The air is so cold it seeps through my dress, and I pull my coat closed across my chest. When I finally lose view of the hotel, I slow my pace, no longer feeling like I’m about to be caught red-handed sneaking out. The smell of cigarette smoke and beer invades my nostrils as I pass a particularly loud group of men standing outside a sports bar. The familiar red and yellow that adorns the scarves around their necks leaves an unpleasant taste in my mouth. Daniel would have been playing tonight.
“Wait, why does it sound like you’re in the middle of a mosh pit?” Angela questions slowly, and I know I’m about to massively piss her off.
