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“I like you daring.”
Stop it. No, please continue.
A question pops to mind. “How did you know my sizes?”
“Simple. I checked the labels on your clothing every time we were together.”
“So, this was planned?”
He grabs my hand. “What you mean to say is, this is for my enjoyment.”
We have a brief meeting over a scrumptious French breakfast before heading out to our first meeting.
I’ve never navigated the streets of Paris by car during rush hour—I’ve relied on their efficient public transportation. This is a new experience for me as we relax in the back of the chauffeured Mercedes Benz.
We arrive at our first meeting at precisely eight-thirty a.m. to meet with a trio of young heads of a widely successful high tech startup. After shaking hands and touring their impressive modern office, we sit down inside the meeting room.
“Thank you so much for inviting us to your office,” Bryce says. “My executive assistant and I are looking forward to this day.”
I translate. “Quel plaisir de faire votre connaissance, messieurs. C’est un honneur pour Monsieur Van Der Linden et moi-même d’être invités dans vos bureaux.”
The tech trio is as surprised as the chauffeur and the bellhop were at the quality of my French.
Bryce is pleased.
The first part of the meeting is light banter until Bryce informs me they’re switching to hardcore numbers. Since there’s a lot of sensitive details, Bryce asks me to step out.
Fine by me. I doubt I’d be of much use since I’m just playing the part of his executive assistant.
An employee guides me to another conference room.
I take advantage of the downtime to text Todd and Cassie on my escort-gig-only phone. Then, I pull out my personal phone and fire off my sister, mom, and dad a text.
I have to wonder if God didn’t have my back on this. I started working for Todd mere days after my family scampered out of New York for extended work-related business trips. Given their demanding days, they don’t have time to worry about me.
Done!
I drop both phones in my handbag.
Who the hell walks around with three phones?
An escort does.
It’s important to keep all your lives separate.
God forbid they’d come crashing into each other.
I’m careful to pretend I don’t see the multiple notifications from the different banks I used to do business with and the credit card companies with their scary interest rates.
I know, I know I’m past due on a shit ton of bills.
Stand in line, guys. You’re not the only ones I owe money to.
I return to the conference room for the last part of the morning session. It’s an animated hour of chatting and translating.
We stop at twelve p.m. for an early lunch. I’m grateful to be able to rest my voice.
How do professional translators do it?
