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“All right, as long as she’s not married or engaged…I mean, what else…”
“Jake, it’s just what we think she may have been involved with…or, more accurately, her job.”
Jake could tell she was tempering her tone, trying to decrease the anxiety, but the reluctance spilling from Jenae and Winnie felt like someone pouring acid into his gut. “Stop, both of you! Just talk. Jesus…what? Rip the fucking Band-Aid off already. Come on!”
“Well…” Winnie cleared her throat before she started talking as she was pulling up something on her computer. “There’s nothing under her name except some swimsuit and lingerie catalogue modeling in Europe, but my firm has the ability to do facial recognition searches. Maybe I went too far, but this is what I found,” she said sheepishly, turning the computer screen around so Jake could see it.
He bent forward, his eyes sifting through the pictures before him as his brain tried to make sense of what he saw: Rakell ina silver sparkling gown…She looked young, but what gave him pause was the guy next to her, his arm around her, dressed like Middle Eastern royalty. There was another picture of her in a cocktail dress on a yacht, with some forty-something man draping his arm over her shoulders. Yet another photograph of a made-up Rakell followed, dripping in diamonds on the society pages in Barcelona. An array of photos depicting a version of her he’d only seen with that asshole Marco. Rakell in fancy gowns and cocktail dresses, wearing jewelry beyond anything he’d ever seen her wear in Austin. Everything about her screamed money as she posed with different men surrounded by seemingly ultra-wealthy people.
Even as his brain fought to categorize what he saw and attach meaning that would add up to something plausible, a nagging feeling settled at the base of his skull. Shaking his head, trying to ignore the prickly feeling, he said, “What is this? So she hung in rich circles?” But even as he voiced his question, the pictures of Rakell didn’t mesh with the girl he knew, who didn’t match the girl he’d seen in Miami, a completely different person than Austin Rakell…Fuck, Miami.There are too many different men, many of them at least a decade older than she, in posh settings in so many exotic locations throughout Europe, and she’s from Australia?“Does she have some family ties to European aristocracy?” He blew out a question that sounded more like a wish.Please let it be that; please don’t tell me…
“No, no connection that way…” Jenae’s voice was low, overly soothing as she spoke slowly, putting her hand on his back. “Jake, we believe she’s an escort—an elite escort—most likely to some of the wealthiest men in the world, meaning her clientele run in very elite circles…”
He took a quick step back from Jenae, eyes blazing like he was readying for a fight, hands fisting. His whole body tensed with the pictures reeling through his head. The stuff his brainhad buried so as to let his heart go on hoping was front and center. “What? Fuck me, she’s a prostitute? What?” He shut his eyes, shaking his head, first in disbelief, warring with the obvious facts. “No, no, that can’t be…” Then the incongruences in her stories, the trips to Europe, shit, Miami,You can’t ignore the truth now, Jake.
All of the jagged puzzle pieces that never made sense shoving together, the picture they created—the truth was almost too much—he couldn’t deny it made sense. Her sexual boldness clashed with her age. Her body begged for release while she appeared to retreat emotionally. Oh God, that question, the one that had ended the Best Day Everin a pool of tears. Her timid question had lived rent-free in his head, the soft, furtive whisper,Jake, have you ever paid for it?Shit! His reaction, then her tears.
His breathing accelerated. “Shit…she’s a prostitute…damn. How did I not see this? Fuck, it was right there. Of course, but no, it's…why?”
Jenae stepped toward him, her hand reaching to his chest. “Jake, not necessarily. She may have just been a high-dollar date to many of these men. Many of them are simply that, ‘dates, escorts’: It’s a way for a beautiful woman to make really good money, especially if they get on with an elite escort service.”
Jake grabbed his glass. “Great, so a high-dollar fucking prostitute. I need more wine, no screw that—whiskey.” Opening the hutch door in the living room, he grabbed a bottle, opened it, and poured himself a healthy pour, knowing this would be the first of many tonight. “What agency?”
Winnie spoke calmly. “We don’t know. It’s pretty much impossible to find out. You can’t just find these agencies on the Internet or by calling around. You literally have to be invited because you’re a known billionaire or recommended by a current client. From what I could ascertain, she most likely worked forone of a handful of ultra-exclusive escort services. They don’t have to advertise for clients, or for that matter, escorts.”
“What?” Jake said, pouring more whiskey into his glass. “So I couldn’t hire someone like her, even though I have money?” He moved back to the table without sitting.
Winnie shook her head. “No, you couldn’t. It really is a billionaire’s club. Royalty, heads of state, men like that. Jake…”
“Winn…please…” He swallowed the knot in his throat, trying to comprehend all the splintered fractions of Rakell roiling around in his brain like tumbleweeds in a West Texas windstorm. “I get it, I’m fucking making millions, but I wouldn’t have had access to her…”
“It’s not just the money, it’s the power…they are accustomed to getting…I think what I’m trying to say is, Jake, you wouldn’t want to be one of them,” Winnie assured.
Jake remembered the framed photograph of her and Matt hanging in her old apartment, then a few months ago, he saw Matt’s picture in the paper with Jonathon. “Let me see those pictures because she lived with this guy named Matt. She acted like they had dated, but then I saw…”
Jenae cut him off. “Yes, Matt. I know him. We used to go to many of the same parties when I went to Rice. He’s the son of Matthew Waterman II, from big oil, and he’s…”
“Jenae shit, I know, I figured that out!”
“Hey, Jake, you have to back down. Unfortunately, we’re the messengers, but you can’t talk to your sister like that.” Winnie spoke sharply, her blue eyes focused on Jake.
Jake threw his hands up. “Sorry, Win. I know, sorry, but things are just starting to add up. Matt…I questioned her about him when I went to her apartment. She was vague, but I believed her when she said they weren’t together.” The text Matt sent her tonight blinked in his head.Matt knew what she needed to tell me.
“They probably never were…that’s what we’re trying to explain. Many of these women are simply arm decoration, filling a role, or helping the ultra-rich assert their dominance with such a beautiful woman on their arm,” Winnie added.
“Yeah, I have the feeling that wasn’tallshe was to some of them. I saw her when I went to Miami to see this girl I was dating, well, not dating, but…”
Jenae scoffed, jumping in. “Listen to yourself, Jake. Maybe you getting all fired up about her possible profession isn’t fair…”
“Hey, I wasn’tpayingfor it.” Even as the defensive explanation sprang from his mouth, his brain went to the thousands of dollars he’d spent on Miranda, the heels, purses, meals, and damn…the amount of alcohol that girl consumed. “You’re right. I have a track record, but I can tell you that the guy she was with in Miami was definitely paying for it. God, this is so…why didn’t I see this? Damn, when I think about it, it was right there, right in front of my fucking face.” He paced in the living room before slowly slumping into an oversized chair. Jenae and Winnie followed him, sitting on the couch.
“Jake, there was no way to know. I mean, it’s not just beauty that these men are paying for. It’s also anonymity. She had to be incredibly discreet,” Jenae explained.
“Yep, makes perfect sense. She totally flipped when Dwayne was trying to take a picture of her with me. She was so afraid it would go out on social media as ‘Jake Skyler’s girlfriend.’” He stared at the ceiling as if he was watching a movie, trying to figure out the plot like the time he and his friends watchedMemento,all of them looking at each other, likeWhat the hell is going on here?“I wonder if she’s still working as a, I mean, if she’s still, God, fucking for money.” Scrubbing a hand down his face, a painful tone resonated from his voice. “Ahh, damn it…she was just in Europe, literallydaysbefore the Super Bowl.”
Jenae pushed her thumb into her forehead, thinking about how to reach him. “Jake,” she said, her eyes resting on him intently, “look at me.” He listened, tilting his head to the side, eyes on his sister. “It’s not always about sex. I mean, the Matt thing was probably a cover for him being gay. I heard he officially came out in November. Friends close to him knew, but he hadn’t come out to the Texas media yet, and maybe not to his family, I’m not sure. There’s a picture of him and her at some swanky DC party a few years ago, so she was probably his cover date. I don’t think she’s doing it anymore or will in the future. Once someone like her becomes famous, or let’s say well known, as in easily recognizable from a picture, they lose the anonymity, so then they’re a liability to these men. I’m sure she had to sign an NDA saying she would never discuss any details about them.”
He nodded his head, blinking like his eyelids were heavy. “Yep, and if the Sports Illuminatedcover didn’t solidify her notoriety, jumping up and down in the San Antonio owner’s box for the opposing team’s quarterback on the Jumbotron did for sure.” A small smile emerged on his lips as he raised his glass in the air. “So cheers to that.”
