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Working as an escort was a difficult job. She walked a very fine line of being friendly and kind, without wanting to give her clients the impression that she was interested in anything other than the legitimate assignment. “You don’t seem close to your son,” she observed after a few moments.
“No.”
“You don’t want to talk about it?”
“I didn’t hire you to talk,” he said with a shake of his head.
“Think of me as cheap therapy.”
“Cheap?” He laughed. “Your agency charges a fortune for your services.”
“Okay. Just think of me as therapy.”
He laughed again, but still didn’t respond to her question.
“All right, tell me this instead. Why did you need to bring me tonight?”
“My date fell through at the last minute. I didn’t want to come alone.” His break up had been as unexpected as it was bitter. Knowing that his son had never approved of his thirty something girlfriend, Hank was reluctant to wear his heartbreak on his sleeve. Arriving with someone younger and hotter seemed a far better alternative.
She nodded. “I can understand that. It is your birthday, after all.”
“What about you? Is being an expensive call girl everything you dreamed of as a child?”
She stiffened her spine. “That’s unkind. I’m not a call girl; I’m an escort.” She shrugged. “And it pays the bills.” Bills that were her responsibility to pay, to keep a roof over her sister’s head, as well as her own.
“I imagine it must, with what your agency charges you out at.”
“Are you complaining?” She asked, lifting one perfectly shaped brow.
He shook his head. “Not at all. You’re just the kind of woman I needed tonight. Having you here will be infuriating to my exes. Not to mention my oldest son.”
“Oh? How so?” She asked, hating the way her pulse began to hammer against her skin. Out of nowhere, she pictured his face. Strong, handsome, captivating.
“I’m sure you’ve got a lot else
going for you, but frankly, you’re stunning. Sex on legs. Big tits, nice ass, hair that makes me want to run my fingers through it. You look like someone who’d keep me up all night, if you know what I mean. And even though your dress probably cost a small fortune, there’s something… a bit slutty about you. Probably the cleavage.”
Her stomach churned painfully but not by a blink of her long, curled eyelashes did she so much as visibly react. After all, she’d dealt with this kind of thing before. The line between professional escort and prostitute was one many people didn’t appreciate. But Jane sure did. She would never sleep with a man for money. It was one of the reasons she’d felt so comfortable signing up when she’d been approached. Her contract explicitly stated that sexual relationships with customers would not be tolerated.
“So making your exes jealous is the point of having me here?”
“Not the point, no. But it’s certainly a silver lining.”
His smile was dripping with lascivious expectation. She unwittingly cast a furtive glance at her wristwatch, wishing the evening were already over. She was booked until midnight though, and that was still several hours away.
“And your son?”
“An arrogant prick.”
She couldn’t help it. Her steps missed a beat. She quickly collected herself.
“Sorry. I just didn’t expect you to say that about your own … flesh and blood.”
He bared his even white teeth in a wolf like grin. “It’s the truth. I’ve always believed in honesty.”
“Excuse me, Mr Mann-Hughes.” A deferential bow from a man in a tuxedo caused them to pause mid-spin.
“What is it?” He hissed impatiently, releasing Jane with obvious disappointment.
