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Everyone knew how Kevin was. If you put out on the first date, then he would move on to the next one. If you didn’t, he would keep asking you out until you gave it up. Plain and Simple.
“Well, yeah. What does that matter?” She asks not realizing the monumental mistake she made. I shrugged and laid back down with my book.
“You left nothing for him to call for. He got exactly what he wanted without having to go on a second date.” I told her.
She looked at me like I’m the evilest bitch she has ever met, but it’s true. Hell, she barely knew the guy. Sleeping on the first date usually means there won’t be a second unless he’s just really a relationship kind of guy. Kevin was not. I have a couple of classes with him, and he’s a lady’s man. He takes them home and then never calls. I knew I should have told her that before they went out. But she had been so anxious and excited that she rushed out.
“Whatever, I’m going out. I need a stiff drink. You coming?” She paced towards the door turning around waiting for me to get up.
“Nah, I’m going to stay in tonight, read a little bit more and then get some sleep,” I replied as I put my face back in my book, ignoring her.
“God, you are so fucking boring. No wonder you don’t get laid.” She flipped me off and slammed the door behind her.
I smiled widely at her as she walks out the door. Angela, and pretty much everyone else that knew me, had no idea what went on with my sex life. I value my privacy and liked to keep people at a safe distance. Besides, it was none of her business. For all she knew, I was a virgin. I laid back and returned to my book, reveling in the fact that I had a date with a hot, rich guy the next day.
Well, business meeting and definitely not of the getting laid kind. I grinned. Still a better deal than being notch 532 on a manwhores bedpost.
Chapter 4
Lacey
The next morning, I woke up with a killer headache. I read most of the night, but even after I crawled into bed, too tired to function, my mind was on overdrive. Apart from me worrying about my parents, I still couldn’t get myself to be one hundred percent okay with the escort thing. I went back and forth between being excited, and then wanting to contact Dr. Shepard and call it all off.
But this meeting would help me pay off my debts. I had no choice but to at least try and go through with it. Besides, I knew there wasn’t any added pressure of me having to sleep with him. Escorting was supposedly different from being a hooker, and I wanted to keep it that way. I couldn't bear the thought of someone finding out I slept with a man for money. Not only would I feel shame for the rest of my life, I wouldn't be able to face anyone. This needed to be my little secret. After it was all over and I got my money, I would never look back.
I had my delicious date on my mind though. Where would he be taking me? What would he be like? I wondered if he was a hyper masculine guy who liked to call all the shots, or a sweet, sensitive guy? Where was he from? What was his style like? My mind was flooded with questions. I had every right to be curious though. It’s not like the email gave me much information on who he was as a person. My pulse was racing. I needed to know at least something about him. Out of the corner of my eye, my bright pink laptop seemed to twinkle. Researching the man you’re going with is always important. At least that’s what my mom would tell me.
I crawled over to my laptop then flung it open, my fingers typing away fiercely. After researching his name, hundreds of results populated, but none about him. So, I decided to go the sleuth route. I took his picture from the email, pasted it to the search engine, then awaited my results. Almost instantly, I got result after result. There were tons of articles about the infamous Matteo. Not sure which one to choose, I randomly chose the first article that popped out at me. As soon as I read the title though, I knew it was trashy. The article tried to make him appear like the bad guy. It even said he was gay. Was he? It would make sense why he would pay so much money for a pretend girlfriend to please his family.
I stared at his picture once more. His eyes were so deep that I wondered what they were thinking when the picture was taken. I wondered what his voice sounds like when he got angry, or when he was hurt. Who was he before he was an enemy of the tabloids? Shaking my head, I searched on.
The next article explains what he does for a living. It’s an article from about five years ago naming himThe Smartest Guy Under 40 in Decades. Apparently, he came up with some new technology after graduating from MIT. Since then, he had one of the largest and most profitable companies in the technology industry.
My jaw fell open. He’s more than what I thought. Intelligent and rich? That wasn’t a mixture I was used to. My heart started to leap out of my chest. I was a nobody. Sure, I was a part of the escorting business, but compared to him, I might as well be a flea. My upbringing was anything but rich. Closing my eyes, I fell back onto my bed, thoughts of my childhood completely drawing me in self-doubt. What if I couldn’t make him happy? What if he turned out to be just like the guys in high school? They were always so concerned about what girls could physically offer them. My cheeks started to feel hot, leaving me with an overwhelming feeling of anxiety.
My phone’s alarm quickly went off, reminding me that it was time for me to get ready. I peeled myself off my bed, dragging myself to the shower. Turning the water, the hottest it could go, I let the steam hit my skin, warming up my shivering body. I let the waterfall over my hair, hoping it would relax me enough to forget about my worries.
After my shower, I quickly threw on an outfit I secretly snatched from Angela’s closet. It was another dress, but slightly longer with puffy sleeves, and it was a nice coral color. My mother always told me coral looked gorgeous on my complexion, and as I tugged the skin-tight dress, I realized that she was right. I admire my newfound figure in the mirror. The matching heels I wore, also snatched from Angela, made my toned calves protrude, and gave length to my legs.
Before heading out, I spritzed my favorite peach perfume on, then exhaled deeply and strutted out of my room with the last ounce of confidence I had left. As I walked through the halls, I could hear muffled whispers. Some commenting on my dress, others asking who I was. A grin formed on my face. How could I not love it? I usually was the invisible one, completely overlooked by everyone. I finally reached the outside of my building, and saw the familiar black car waiting for me. Taking a deep breath, I walked over to it with my head held high, opened the door, and slid in.
Freddie, as usual, kept his eyes ahead and said nothing. I felt as if we have an unspoken connection though, so I sat in comfortable silence. The car quickly sped to the agency’s location, whipping past oblivious college students. There was a part of me that felt like I was a movie star living a secret life. I had a secret date with a hot billionaire, and I was being paid for it. God, it didn’t get any better than that!
We finally reached the agency, at exactly 6:30. As soon as I step foot out of the car, I noticed that Shepard was waiting outside for me. Nerves immediately took over my entire body. He had on his usual grey attire with a red tie, and his wispy brown hair was flying back, due to the heavy wind. Dropping the cigarette in his hand, he let it fall to the ground, putting it out with his red wing tip shoes. As I turned to face him, I saw that he immediately frowned at the sight of me. Pursing his lips, he marches over to me. Dr Shepard’s short frame scurried over to me, his legs moving impossibly fast.
“Good even-,” I started to say.
“What are you wearing?” Dr Shepard cuts me off. He rips off his grey shades and looks me up and down with disgust.
Shit, was it too conservative?
“He asked me to dress more conservatively since it will be around his family. What’s wrong with it?” I asked him beginning to feel more self-conscious.
“Uh--- nothing. You just look so innocent. If you had shown up for your first interview like that, you definitely would have been turned away.”
I’m not sure how to take his words. Was that a compliment or a put-down? It doesn’t matter. I’m not here for Shepard.
A limo pulled up behind Shepard. His words become inaudible to me as I watch the limo stop, and Matteo smoothly stepped out. He was dressed in all white, and his thick, black hair was slicked back. His goatee looked nicely trimmed and outlined, and there was a certain glint in his dark eyes that made me melt.
