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Chapter4
Dylan
Nursing a hangover the next day at work isn’t the best way to look after a work event. Hey, at least I am one of the few who actually went. Lucy brings me in coffee today and doesn’t speak as she places it on my desk. I thank her and she sneaks out, shutting the door carefully so it doesn’t slam behind her. I isolate myself in my office, getting work done. I am already done with the stuff for the week so I get started on the things for next week to lighten the load for Lucy and I. My head is pounding so after lunch I take a little nap at my desk with Reba on lookout for Mr. Lefts. We do this every so often and I’ve never been caught before, thankfully. I cancel my afternoon meetings and by the time I’m headed home for the day, I’m feeling a lot better.
“Dylan!” a voice calls after me, it’s Harper from the illustration department. I hold the elevator for her and she smiles.
“Hey, Harper,” I say politely. We’ve spoken a handful of times and worked together on a few projects over the years.
“How’s it going?” She smiles. She is like a ray of sunshine at all times while I am less on her level of optimism.
“I’m actually going home early, I’m a little hungover,” I admit.
“Went too hard at the party last night? I thought you looked beautiful by the way,” she adds.
“Oh, thank you.” I am surprised, I hadn’t even noticed her last night.
“Would you maybe want to grab a drink sometime?” Is she asking me out? I am technically her boss if you think about it, but I guess she isn’t worried about that.
“Oh, I’d love to but I’m not so sure it would be a good idea with Mr. Lefts on my case. I don’t want to give him any reason to go at it,” I lie. Harper is beautiful but I don’t tend to date where I work. It just seems like a recipe for a disaster.
“Of course, no worries.” She stiffens and I feel bad, but I don’t want to start something with an employee I can’t finish. I’m not the dating type anyway. I don’t want to hurt Harper or anyone else by taking them out and knowing it won’t go anywhere.
We both get off the elevator and head in separate directions which I’m thankful for. I head toward home and order some sushi on the way home. I grab the takeout bag from the doorman and head into my apartment. It is a lot for one person, but I am in the kind of business that people judge you based on where you live. So sure, I live on the Upper East Side, but I need an apartment that says that too.
I have a doorman who holds the door for me and buzzes up my guests, something I never had growing up. My apartment is mainly my living room, an oversized room with a wall of floor to ceiling windows. It was decorated by a professional designer I had dated a long ass time ago. She had done an amazing job though. Everything is exactly in my taste. Chic and modern designs with a little splash of color.
My kitchen is mainly for show, I can’t tell you the last time someone actually used it. I am a takeout person and I own that. I eat my share of salads and sushi to stay fit but I rarely keep anything in my fridge besides wine and the occasional tub of ice cream.
My bedroom is my solace, but is half the size of the living room, making enough room for a walk in closet and a bed. That is all I need anyway. It is there for me to sleep, and occasionally entertain, but that is all. I have an oversized bathroom with a bathtub and a shower across the room from my bedroom. I’ll take the occasional bath, but it is mainly used to get ready in the morning. I don’t have time to lounge in the bath or take long showers. I am a workaholic and I love it.
I have an extra bedroom across the hall that I rarely use. It is technically a guest room with a king sized bed and an empty dresser, but I don’t use it as such. There is no one in my life that I have staying over and if they are, they stay in the room with me.
I climb on the couch and put on a reality tv show while I dig into my sushi. I pour some soy sauce all over it and it’s delicious.
I don’t mean to, but I end up opening a bottle of wine and finishing the entire thing. Now I’m not someone who normally does that but with the comments my boss made last night racing around in my head, it makes me want to do something about my impending singleness. I think about calling up one of my ex girlfriends. But then I think the better of it. It’s better to leave the past in the past, right? I mean this wasn’t some kind of romance novel where I’d call up my ex and we’d magically work out this time and end up together. The reality was that she’d hang up or block my number once she found out who it was, and that was fine by me.
Instead I scroll through my phone and call a number that was given to me a long time ago. I’ve never used it but I’ve always been curious and now seemed like the right time to use it. I wait for the third ring and then a woman picks up.
“Hello? Dear, did you mean to call this number?” A voice like an older woman is on the other end.Did I dial the right number?
“I-I don’t know, I was looking for an um dating agency?” I ask confused, trying to remember what my friend had called the place. It was technically an escort service but I was told specifically not to use that language, especially over the phone.
“Oh! Hold on one second dearie,” the older woman says and I stifle a laugh. This lady sounded old enough to be my grandmother, was she really going to help me? “So, can I help you find a young gentleman then?”
“Actually, I was looking for a woman,” I say hesitantly. With her age, this could go one of two ways.
“Of course! Silly me, it is the twenty first century after all!” She laughs and I feel a breath of relief.
“So how does this work exactly.”
“Well, you tell me what you’re looking for, I set it up. You wire the money ahead of time and then you show up and meet your date. If it goes well and you’d like to see each other again, another payment is required and we go from there. If it doesn’t go well, I offer a 50% refund and a second date option.” She explains.
“Okay, well I guess I’m looking for something simple. Someone to bring to work events, but not to bring home to my family. I’d like to get to know her myself first before bringing her to work events though.”
“Okay, so you’d want to start slow then. Let me see, I would recommend you Isabella. She’s brand new but seems like just your type. I can have it set up right away if you’re ready.”
“O-OKay.” It seemed too good to be true. Could I really be set up and get my boss off my back that quickly?
