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If someone would've told me this is how my Saturday as a call girl would go, I'd have laughed in their face. Today was nothing I expected, yet somehow everything I needed.
James tells me story after story about his tattoos as I point to each one. He's traveled around the world and has met extraordinary people. He’s had moments and conversations he says he never wants to forget. He's all about preserving time and I'm curious to know why.
I'm a little envious and can't help but wonder if I'll ever get to be as worldly as he is. I hope so. I've heard there are a few clients who will pay for companionship, and I'm wondering if he's one of them.
"Life is beautiful,” he says at one point. “There's so much to see and experience. It isn't as bad as everyone makes it out to be. We're lucky to be alive. The way I see it, it could always be worse."
Something strikes my chest. He doesn't have an ounce of arrogance when he talks. He seems like he just wants to share things with me, and I find myself absorbing every single word that falls from his lips.
"You're a fascinating man, James," I say, then finish my glass.
"What's your passion in life?"
I pull back. "Getting a little deep, are you?"
James doesn't say anything, but just waits for me to answer. I lick my lips nervously and debate how honest I should be.
I decide to go with it. Call it liquid courage.
"I'm not sure exactly… All I know is that I have this need inside me to help people, ones who are less fortunate like me. My parents always gave to the poor, and it's something I still do, even though there have been many times when I couldn't afford to. I still give back with my grammy every year." I pause, expelling a breath. "I want to help people, I just don't know how I will yet."
His gaze is intense, and it tugs at my chest. "We essentially have the same passion, but for different reasons."
"Oh really?" He doesn't seem like he was ever poor.
"Yes. I see the way you're looking at me, and I'll let it slide. You, more than anyone, should know looks can be deceiving. I didn't always have money, and I worked fucking hard to get where I am. I do believe good fortune comes with good practice."
Hours have passed and the bottle on the table is now empty. I have no idea what time it is, probably close to midnight. We picked at food and talked as if we were close friends catching up. I know the night has to be coming to an end, but I don't want it to.
"You make me want to pack a bag and hit the road and see where it takes me."
The way he smiles causes a storm of emotions in my chest. James is seemingly overflowing with happiness.
"You should do it. Go alone and experience the world for what it is."
I look away, feeling the longing at his words. "Maybe one day," I say softly. "I've never been outside of New York."
His brows rise in surprise. "You're kidding me."
I brush off the melancholy pressing on me. I don't want to ruin the mood.
"I'm young. I have time. I'll probably be single for the rest of my life anyway, so I'll get to go everywhere I want," I joke with a smile. "Maybe I'll turn into a gypsy. Sounds kind of fun, actually."
Finishing the contents in his glass, James stands and buttons his shirt. He puts his suit jacket back on, then offers me his hand.
"Wanderlust is a real thing," James says as we make our way outside to the parked Rolls Royce.
I didn't see him pay the check, so I assume he has a tab. Wouldn't surprise me.
"I'm always ready and willing to hop on a plane and leave." He hesitates. "Though life doesn't always allot for that, and it took me a while before I could make that happen."
"Tell me about it," I respond.
I can't help but feel like he's trapped inside something he has no way of escaping. Something deeper, like emotionally, because the way he talks with longing and aspiration nudges something in my gut.
James looks at his watch then back at me. The city never sleeps, even under the pitch-black sky and large moon.
"Don't take the subway or a taxi. Let my driver know where you need to go and he'll take you home."
