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The men whistle, impressed.
“Maybe you should ask for fewer cases,” Clay growls, forking a huge bite of egg into his mouth. But I shake my head.
“No, I couldn’t. My boss counts on me, and besides, I don’t want anyone at the firm to think I can’t handle my caseload. It’s a professional reputation kind of thing. I don’t want them to see me and think, oh yeah, look at Mara struggling. Women can’t take the same level of stress. Because it’s not true. I can definitely handle it, but I just need a reprieve every now and again. Not only more time off, but also something to let off steam, you know?”
The handsome men nod.
“So that’s where the escorting comes in?”
I smile. “Yes, as crazy as it sounds. It’s a way for me to relieve the tension on weekends. Before our date on Friday, I actually hadn’t gone out on a City Girls job in a while because I was so slammed at the law firm. But now, you’ve reminded me just how much I need to get out and be myself once in a while.”
“I can imagine,” Clay muses. “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.”
I nod.
“My point exactly. Being an attorney is definitely fulfilling, and again, I enjoy the work. But sometimes I feel like I’m a different person at the office because that’s just how these things are. The corporate world has certain sensibilities and is pretty rigid when it comes to culture. It’s like I have to hang up my personality at the door, and become Professional Mara, instead of Fun-Filled Playful Mara.”
My lovers nod.
“Yeah, corporate culture leaves a lot to be desired, doesn’t it? Damn, I’m so glad we’re not working in an office setting,” Clay rumbles at his brother.
I perk up then.
“Yes, but what about you guys? You still haven’t told me what you do but it must be something that pays well, seeing how nice this penthouse is.”
After all, as I take another look around, my observation confirms my first impression. The chairs around the glass table in the dining table are lined with expensive brocade. The living room has couches of a soft white leather and a TV that fills up the entire wall. It’s an apartment that screams luxury, and I shudder to think of how much it must cost.
But again, Casper and Clay avoid answering my question directly.
“We work for a company that has diversified interests. We do a bit of everything, mostly in the entertainment sector,” Clay hedges.
I sigh. I understand their secrecy, but I want to get to know these men better and these non-answers are exasperating. Why won’t they tell me more about themselves? Why are they being so cagey?
“Do you go to any places I’d recognize?” I ask, trying to sound casual and cool while fishing for information. The twins nod.
“Well, do you remember the hotel we met at on Friday?”
“Yes, the Redwood?” I say. “It’s really nice.”
Clay nods.
“Actually, the Redwood Hotel belongs to our group. It’s just one of our holdings.”
My eyes widen. “Seriously? You didn’t mention that while we were there!”
Both men grin, flashing even white teeth.
“There was no need to. We’re not flashy dudes, but if we were going to pick a place to meet at, why not one that we own?”
I smile.
“Well, I love that hotel. I’ve been there quite a few times in the past. That’s how you got the VIP area, right? And why they let you BYOB? Because you’re actually the owners.”
They smile. “Exactly. The staff recognizes us on sight, so we’re free to do what we like. But you understand, don’t you? We weren’t trying to be sketchy in any way. We just happen to own the venue, so we were really relaxed.”
I nod, realization dawning.
“Of course, I do. Got it. Things make more sense now. Sorry if I came off as suspicious before.”
“Don’t be,” Clay rumbles. “You’re a smart girl, and you know how to protect yourself, Mara. By the way, how is your breakfast? You haven’t finished your scrambled eggs yet.”
I look at my plate ruefully. There’s still a stack of bacon and eggs, but at least I’ve polished off the waffles.
“To be honest, I’m not sure I’ll be able to finish this,” I say in a rueful tone. “I’ve eaten so much that I probably resemble a stuck pig.”
The guys frown. “We love your body, honey, and you should eat as much as you want. Stuck pigs are juicy and meaty, just the way we like them.”
I giggle.
“Yeah, but no woman wants to be referred to as a stuck pig!”
The men just shrug and smile.
“What’s this particular piggy stuck on? Does she have something stuck in her behind or in her pussy?”
I gasp, scandalized.
“Oh my God, you guys are so bad! Naughty, naughty!”
