We made a deal then. For one week, she’d put me up in an apartment in the building she owned. Food, clothes, everything included. And in exchange, I promised to talk to some of the girls who worked for her.
Talk to them,Amara pressed.Ask them whatever questions you want. They’ll not only confirm what I’m telling you, but you’ll also see how much they love the job.She started to tick things off on her fingers.They control their own schedule, they make five times the money on a quarter of the time, and the only thing they have to do is fake interest in a man.Her lip twitched. As if women don’t do that for free already.
It sounded too good to be true, but I was too desperate to turn her down. When I shook her hand, it was for the sole reason that I wanted to buy myself another week to figure out a new plan.
Three years later, I know three things for certain:
1. Amara’s words were genuine. She truly wanted to help me.
2. Working for an escort agencydoesn’tmean you need to sleep with clients. But you make a hell of a lot more money when you do.
3. Whatever I was hoping would be on the other end of that week, I never found it.
I wonder if she senses that. If it’s the reason she pushed me to sign up for college courses, to find something that excites me the way arriving in New York City did all those years ago.
Why she inquires about my classes before she asks me anything else.
“I got a ninety-six on the exam,” I answer her question, shaking away the memories of our past. “I only got one question wrong.”
“See? I told you there was no need to stress,” she chides. I can hear the proud smile in her voice when she adds, “As if you don’t get an A on everything in that class.”
It’s that hint of care that always softens me with Amara.
It’s unfortunate that it’s always snuffed out as soon as she brings up work.
“The reason I’m calling is because I have a new client for you.”
Back to reality.
“I know you’re not fond of picking up new clients, but I have someone who I think would be perfect for you.”
My spine stiffens at the suggestion.
I don’t like taking on new clients. As a matter of fact, I hate it. Walking into a hotel room with a stranger, knowing he’s paying me and that he could very well think he has the right to do anything he wants? It terrifies me. It doesn’t matter that I’m the best girl Amara has at those first-time appointments, simply because I’m the best at reading what men want. I just…don’t like it. It’s the only time I feel unsure of myself. Things are much easier once I know what they expect from me and I can mold myself into whatever persona they want a woman to be.ThatI can do.
Amara sighs. “Eventually, you’re going to have to replace the two clients you lost when they moved. Your roster is getting a little light. Now’s as good a time as any to fluff it up.”
Even though she’s right, I’m suddenly finding it hard to care. It’s not like I’m wanting for money. Even with a college tuition, I still make enough with this job to live comfortably. I don’tneedmore clients.
Which Amara knows. And which begs the question…why is she pushing for me to add this one?
“Why do you think he’d be perfect for me?” I ask.
“He’s…young. And has plenty of money. I think he would be a slam dunk. If you’re going to take on any new clients, he’s the perfect choice, Scarlett.”
I chew on my bottom lip. “What does he do?”
Her hesitation tells me everything I need to know. “He’s a professional MMA fighter.”
I let out a tired exhale. “Amara, you know I don’t do pro athletes.” I’m not interested in the publicity they getorthe risk that comes with their physical strength. Been there, done that.
“I know, I know. But listen to me. I couldn’t find a single red flag. His background check is spotless, he’s never had a PR crisis, and even the ex-girlfriends I talked to didn’t have anything bad to say about him. They all said he was a genuinely sweet guy and the only reason the relationships didn’t work out was because the connection went stale.”
I’m momentarily distracted by the amusing picture of Amara going undercover to dig up dirt on a prospective client. It’s the main reason I trust the dates she sets up for me. Because she knows exactly who she’s putting into a room with her girls.
I rub at my temples with a wince, debating the risk that comes with a new client.
“What did he say he was calling for?” I ask finally.
