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If someone had told me that I would be working as a high-end escort someday, I would've said they were crazy. If someone had told me I would be living with my mother and that she not only knew what I did for a living and but also tolerated it, I would've told them they were flat-out out of their mind.
Mom hated what I did. She cried when I'd finally broken down and told her the truth about where the money was coming from. She was too sick to work, and her government assistance didn't even cover her medication. We were in between a rock and a hard place. The rock was the streets. The hard place was AccommoDating. When I told her that we really didn't have a choice, it was the truth. It had taken some adjusting, but she'd finally made some sort of peace with my choice. She never wanted to know specifics, and we rarely talked about what I was doing.
Which was obviously fine by me.
"How are you doing? Did you do your treatment today?" She sometimes forgot to take her medications and do her treatments. That was going to be the hardest part about being away for so long. I would ask my sister to check on her, but I didn't trust Chelsea to follow through and keep an eye on her.
"Yes, honey. You left me the daily list, remember? I open up the calendar every day, and I do everything on the list, just like you said. I'm going to be fine. Don't you worry about your mom."
"I always worry."
"I know you do! That's because you're my little worry wort!" She laughed. "So… is this thing you're doing going to work out? Are you going to be gone for as long as you thought?" She gingerly sidestepped any details.
"Yes. I'm at the client's house. We signed a contract. He's very nice—he even likes the hash at Mimi's Diner."
"Well, I approve of at least that," my mother said.
"He's a gentleman—you don't need to worry about anything." I took a deep breath. "He's going to give me even more money," I said. The words came out all in a rush. "He's going to give us so much money that we're never going to have to worry again. We can buy an apartment. Someplace nice. We'll be able to get all your medications and everything. From now on. You don't have to worry about anything ever again."
"Oh, honey… really?" I could tell she was close to tears.
"Really. I promise. It's going to be so great, Mom." I felt on the verge of tears myself, and I struggled to calm down. Ever since Vince had jilted me, I didn't do emotions, and I certainly didn't do out-of-control ones. I didn't want to completely freak my mother out by crying. "But listen. You can't tell anyone about this. And if you see any pictures of me in the newspaper or anything else like that, you can't show them to anyone, and you can't talk about it. Understand?"
"What pictures in the newspaper?" She sounded alarmed.
"Mom. There aren't any pictures—yet. But my client is a successful CEO. He comes from a lot of money. There might be pictures of us in the Globe or the Herald." I swallowed hard, not wanting to tell her the whole truth. "I just want you to be prepared."
"Blake Walker Maxwell, I can tell you're keeping something from me. You tell me what's going on right now!"
Oh boy. She meant business—she'd broken out my middle name. That was almost as bad as her asking me for a pinky promise, which was probably coming next. I sighed, not wanting to tell her the truth but knowing that in the end, she was going to find out, anyway. It might as well be now. "I'm going to marry him."
She was silent for a beat. "I'm sorry?" she finally asked. "What did you just say to your mother?"
"I said I'm going to marry him. That's the job."
"I don't understand this. What does that even mean?" She sounded bewildered.
"It means that he has to get married for financial reasons," I explained, trying to stick to easy talking points. I didn't want my mother to get distressed or upset about all the details, and I knew they would be confusing to her. "So he hired me to marry him. There will probably be an announcement in the papers, so you should know."
"So you marry him, and then what?"
"We're going to live together for a year. After that, the assignment is over, and he's going to give me more money. A lot more."
The silence was deafening, although I knew she hadn't hung up. Yet. "I don't know about this," she said finally. "I've let you get away with working for that lady for too long. You can't marry someone for money. And after what happened with Vince…" She let her voice trail off.
"Mom, I'm fine." I pressed the phone against my ear, wishing I could reach out and hug her. When I'd found out about Vince and my sister so close to the wedding, I'd fallen apart. My mom had been there to pick up the pieces. The pinpricks of tears stung my eyes. I didn't want her to worry about me anymore.
I heard her start crying. "I just want something better for you."
"I knew you'd be upset. That's why I didn't want to tell you. But please don't worry. This is going to be huge for us… and it's just a business transaction. My client is a nice guy in a tough situation. I'm helping him out, and he's paying me to do it. And he can pay me so much that you and I never have to worry ever again, okay? So this is a good thing. A great thing."
She sighed. "I just want my beautiful daughter to be happy for once. Is that too much to ask?"
Now, it was my turn to sigh. "Your beautiful daughter is happy with the money she's making, okay? Can we please just concentrate on that?"
"How much money?" She sounded suspicious, but slightly less teary.
"Two million dollars," I whispered. "Can you believe that?"
