Dear readers, some of you may have read my other stories, but I doubt it, as to my dismay I am not the writer with stories read by thousands of readers like vjgm, whom you should check out if you have time. But I am back in the game and bringing something new to the table. I was obsessed with "Secret Diary of a Call Girl" starring Billie Piper, and I thought why not combined that idea with my favourite Twilight characters. I hope you like what I have come up with and please review. No copyright infringement is intended. The characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. Loosely similar plot lines belong to Belle de Jour and Channel 4.
Chapter 1
The First Thing you should know about me is that I am a Whore…
BPOV
New York is fabulous, with its bright yellow cabs that infest the blocks like termites, Fifth Avenue, Tiffany's & Co, Central Park, but to name a few of my favourite things.
The first thing you should know about me is that I am a whore. Well, I don't tend to refer to myself by such a hostile term; I am a New York Call Girl. Premier Escort extraordinaire.
Jessica, my "Madame" checks out all the clients before we administer to their needs. And she does it for the small fee of 30% of our hard earned money.
I know what you're thinking. I can hear the question whirling around your mind… why would I become a prostitute? Would you believe me if I said I enjoyed it? It wasn't like I grew up imagining myself in the eyelashes and the lingerie and the skyscraper heels.
It all started when I was in my sophomore year at Columbia (yes I am clever as well as flexible), and my father was shot on the job. He is the Chief of Police in Forks, Washington, my hometown, and after the scum put a bullet through his arm, they ran him over with their van. To be honest he is lucky to be alive. But it wasn't enough to have suffered through grievous bodily harm; he was slapped with a giant medical bill. This is where my problems started; I couldn't possibly accept my father still trying to put me through college with the mortgage and his hospital expenses, so I blocked his credit card at the office and made sure they didn't continue charging him. I knew I had to pay for the next two and a half years of my tuition and living in the Big Apple wasn't cheap especially for a student. I did the only thing I could think of that would get me a lot of money and fast. Luckily I have always been keen to stay in shape, so my body was good to go. I had some shopping to do before I could take my first client, but I had the assets necessary for the job. I found Jessica and she talked me up to some of the regulars.
My first night in the game, the virginal experience was with Luke. He was muscular, sexy, and tipped well. He didn't make me feel like a prostitute, I was in the zone from 'hello' to 'goodnight'. I kept him all these years and it keeps getting better with every passing week. So that is the non-twisted reason why I became what I am. Sorry to disappoint all of you who guessed child abuse, or daddy issues gone wrong; it is simply the fact that I love money, sex and mystery and this job has all three.
The money is fantastic, even after Jessica has shaved off her commission. I can afford to live in a nice area on the outskirts of the Upper East Side and still afford to be extravagant with shoes.
Oh, I just realised I never introduced myself. My name is Tanya; well that is what I tell my clients and Jessica, but I think I can trust you with the truth. My real name is Bella Swan.
"Bella, where is remote? I am not watching another Gossip Girl episode!" Edward called out from the living room. He is the most demanding best friend a girl could get stuck with. First he wants coffee, then he wants the remote; I am positive he will want a biscuit in a minute, just when I have sat back down and got comfortable.
"Oh and can you find me a biscuit?"
What did I tell you? At least I am still in the kitchen this time. He has worse timing than my mother. I don't know why I thought dating him was a good idea. It was about five years ago, granted, but I must have been so much more tolerant back then. Or maybe it is that most of the men in my life aren't around long enough to show their demanding side.
Some of the men that see me are in, out and off, but they are becoming more and more rare. Most of them like having a bit of a chat. They have already slept with me, there are no boundaries, and they know I won't want a commitment because of what I do so they open up. My favourites are the lifers; the ones that even if they don't come weekly or even monthly, will still ask for me and me alone. I can tell the difference between those who use prostitutes for sex and sex alone and couldn't care less as long as they got to the big finish, and the ones who pick a girl they like and are totally faithful.
Edward came in a reasonably brief period when I thought I was done with escorting. I was just finished with college, everything was paid off and I was convinced I only did it because I needed the income and I was desperate. Edward had been in my English Lit class for the better part of my degree and I knew he had had a crush on me because he was more transparent that a sheet of glass, but I couldn't see anyone while I was whoring my way through the Manhattan phonebook.
He asked me out on Graduation Day, and I jumped at the chance to go out with a hot guy who wasn't just after an expensive quickie. We were good together until the secrets began to build up. I couldn't possibly tell him why I hadn't had a boyfriend in college, or why he never saw me out on a Saturday night? He would never look at me the same way again. He would give me that disgusted glare; the one that hated me for what I had done and judged me.
No, it is better he doesn't know. Yes, he still doesn't know. He still asks me those questions from time to time, but I have no obligation to give him a genuinely serious answer. I was out every Saturday night fucking a guy who hasn't had sex in eleven months because his wife doesn't love him anymore. I can't tell him that.
We broke up because I realised I missed being a call girl; I missed the excitement of a new man, and getting dressed up and being taken out to watch a Broadway show or a Shakespeare play in the theatre in the park. I missed the rush of adrenaline I felt before another gorgeous guy took me in his arms. And that is when I knew, back then at least, Edward wasn't enough for me. I was the job, not the girlfriend.
"So Bella, are you free this weekend, because there is this new bar opening near Times Square that has got some good press, and I was thinking we could check it out?" Not again, he is always doing this and I have two regulars and an outcall this weekend.
"Sorry Ed, I have plans with my girlfriends this weekend. We are heading up to Vermont for a spa retreat thing for Lesley's birthday". There is no Lesley!
"What is your deal Bella?" Why is he angry with me? I have hung out with him every minute this week that my legs haven't been spread.
"What's your problem Edward?"
"You are never around at weekends, you are always not answering your phone at random intervals during the day and I swear I have never met any of your so-called friends. You used to tell me everything, we were so open with each other and now you are so distant and detached. What aren't you telling me?"
Every few months Edward gets so wound up that he has this kind of outburst and every time, I take it with a pinch of salt. But this time it is different. He is so cross and his face is his 'I could kill you right now' face.
"What can I say to that Edward? If you have issues with my lifestyle then why are you friends with me? I can't deal with this crap every time you think I don't pay enough attention to you." I am angry now. What can I do about it?
"Fine, I'm leaving. I won't bother you anymore," and he just stormed out. He is such a baby I think I might just put this little tantrum down to a bad night's sleep.
Phone rings…
"Yes Jessica?" Brilliant timing, 2 minutes ago I would have had to explain why I have two different phones.
I try and keep some things separate. In my apartment, I have a room that is almost like a mini studio apartment, which has a concealed door. That is where I turn Tanya on and switch Bella off. I have a work phone and a personal phone, and I keep Tanya's closet separate from Bella's. Bella has some of Tanya's underwear that they share, but it isn't anything too raunchy.
"That new client on Sunday at 2 would like to change the location to an in-call, he will arrive at about 2:15 now as he is travelling from Downtown."
"That is fine, Luke is here for the night, so I will need some sleep between the two anyway. Is that all, because my home line is ringing?"
"That's all, meet me in Starbucks at 1128 3rd Street 11a.m. on Monday to pay me my commission. Ciao darling"
Jessica prefers to meet at Starbucks rather than restaurants so meeting more than one group of girls who rarely order anything don't look so suspicious. And she never lets you go more than twelve hours still holding on to her commission. She says too many girls have booked up for the week and then blocked her out and so she never got paid. She only lets me and a few of the other girls last the weekend because we have been with her for so long she trusts us; trust may be a strong word, she expects loyalty from us.
The home line caller I.D. read Edward Cullen. Here comes the apology. I relish these moments. They are the times when I am right and he is wrong. But in this case, he is right. I trust him with everything except this. I believe after some time he could come to accept this part of my life. All I know is that I cannot keep up the charade any longer.
"Hey Edward. Don't speak, you were right, there is something I haven't ever told you. It is this huge part of my life and explains everything you don't understand about me. I just want you to know that you are my best friend, and I hope I am still yours after I tell you."
"Jeez Bella, just spit it out why don't you?"
"I'm an escort…"