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Dominic moves to my side as I try to catch my breath.
“We need to get you some water. Have you even had anything to eat or drink all day?” he admonishes.
I shake my head.
“Why did you not eat at the photoshoot? There was a whole buffet of food set up. Did my staff not allow you a break? Do I need to start firing people around here?”
So many questions! I need to breathe.Breathe, Angie.
“No! Don’t fire anyone because of me,” I blurt out, exasperation evident. Maybe this is what buyer’s remorse feels like?
“Relax,” he urges.
He rubs his hands calmingly down my back. It soothes my freak-out without being creepy. As attractive as Dominic is, he gives off the brotherly feel to me.
“I’m starting to get self-conscious over the fact that you going on a business date with me makes you panic.” I can tell he is joking.
Dominic moves back behind his desk. A chilled glass container of filtered water is placed in my hand with a look that could only mean, drink now. I take several small sips, willing my eyes to dry my pooling tears. I’m such a girl. And a traitor to my feminist views.
The easiest way to go against your feminist views is to go off and be an escort. I am the worst kind of hypocrite.
I glance at Dominic through my new fake eyelashes as he fishes out a small plastic bowl of fruit and a wedge of cheese from what appears to be a mini fridge. The fridge has the same finish as his desk. Very discreet and upscale.
“Here’s a snack.”
“Thanks.”
I have a feeling that arguing is not the best strategy, especially on the first day of the job. I take the plastic fork that rests on the edge of the desk and poke a strawberry. I am hungry. The bustle of the day and distractions have caused me to not even register simple cues that my stomach and mind were sending me. The guys in the studio did offer me food in between scenes. But how could I eat with the bubbling anxiety of being center stage?
I shove grapes and pineapple into my mouth. I remember to chew. Everything tastes better than usual, as if the fruit was handpicked that day and diced to perfection.
“Now that we have your stomach taken care of…and the choking fits have stopped,” Dominic says with a smile. “Tomorrow night we’ll go on a date.” He pauses and looks at me closely.
It is not a question. Not one that warrants a yes or no. By signing the contract, I automatically make the date consensual. I assume Dominic’s gaze is to see that I am not harvesting hives on my skin as an adverse reaction to the potential date. That will not make me a good escort, for sure.
Escort. Even in my head, I have a difficult time grasping what I just signed up for.
“I’ll send a car for you at your place, say around seven?” Dominic’s cool composure has little effect on mine. He oozes confidence, yet maintains the laid-back outward appearance.
I stare in disbelief. Is my boss really taking me out on a date?
Dominic shifts in his seat, rolls his gold ring around his finger, and stares straight into my made-up eyes. “Don’t think I’m good for the money, darlin’?”
“No, um. That’s not what I—”
“Angie, it is part of my job to make you feel comfortable and have a smooth transition. Something tells me that you have never done anything even remotely like this before. It will be a trial run. Like a test. I can go over the ropes with you and then set you free to fly.”
“Okay. Seven. What should I wear?”
“The date will be business casual. We will just go and have dinner and a couple of drinks at a restaurant. A simple dress and heels should be fine. Speaking of which, I am going to go ahead and give you the gift card with the five-thousand-dollar allotted value. You can choose to spend this money as you wish and as often as you wish until it is used up. However, I advise you to save some for a potential picky client. Some men have specific needs and will expect you to follow through.”
My eyes widen with a mix of apprehension and alarm. I take the gift card and copies of the signed documents and form a pile on my lap. I readjust in the seat and take a sip of the water, forcing it down in a gulp.
“Is Graham Hoffman a client?”I need to install a filter!My skin warms and I feel lightheaded.
Dominic looks at me thoughtfully. “You know Mr. Hoffman?”
I bite my lip. “I suppose you could say that.”
