Gotta say, I'm overwhelmed by the interest you've shown for this story. Thank you! I just hope I won't let you down.
You, my beautiful readers rock. Every single one of you.
Now, not to keep you waiting...
(Oh, also, Stephenie Meyers owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.)
Chapter 2
The job Esme described sounded so much different than what it actually was. I mean, I knew what an escort means, and as much as it was paid a whole bunch of money just to spend a few hours with a guy, who you will never (hopefully) see again, (naivety, thy name is Bella) it was different to see it in action.
It was my first day on the job, and it definitely wasn't going well.
Except my bruised ego, everything I thought I knew about escorts was dead wrong. God, I didn't want to be here. I just wanted to close my eyes and forget about all of this. To snap my fingers and once again be in my apartment with Charlie, eating pizza and talk about our awful bosses. Unfortunately, that was never going to happen. A tear falls down my cheek, and I quickly bowed my head from unwanted public to wipe it away.
I can get through this, I told myself.
Everything is going to be alright.
I took long deep breaths to calm my system.
Two and a half hours later, a tall stranger walked in. He looked very professional, wearing a very expensive dark suit, observing other girls with a rigid look on his face, frowning, as if this was one of the hardest decision he had to make in a long while, all the while having his hands behind his back as he walked soundlessly but surely forward.
Stopping in my general direction, I could feel his stare, even as I tried to hide behind my long hair. Suddenly I could feel his finger, lifting my chin upwards so he could look into my eyes. As he stared - for what seemed like hours- it looked like he was searching for something.
Waiting.
Patient yet distant in his search.
During that time, his face was completely void of any kind of emotions, rigid, piercing eyes cold, making my whole body shiver.
With a small nod-so very small that you could barely notice it—he spoke in a very low tone.
"Her. Now," that same stranger mumbled before walking away, back to the street and waited by his—what looked like—very expensive vehicle.
I bit my lip, trying to take control of my shaking body and confused mind, saying to myself that everything will be okay, but nobody was convinced this time, not even my inner voice.
Esme walked in the direction of the tall stranger, sharing a few quiet- but anything but calm or patient- words before coming right back in, looking a little lost, just as I was.
I didn't understand any of this. Shouldn't I follow him to work out the price for tonight? The same price that I'm sure this strange man had already planned out?
Getting inside once more, and taking a few steps towards me, Esme spoke.
"Bella, I've made some…rearrangements with Mr. Masen."
What? " Ummm…What kind of rearrangements?"
"Well, I don't usually do this but…"
"But?" I asked impatiently.
"Well, he paid a lot of money for you, in advance…"
"How much?"
"Doesn't matter."
"How much Esme? Tell me."
"Five million dollars," she whispered softly but clearly.
"What?!" I ask, my voice louder than intended, full of panic and confusion.
"Keep your voice down," she hissed, moving me away from the view of other girls and pulling on my hand so we can talk more privately, away from the curious eyes.
Her harsh tone surprised me, even startled me. Where was that sweet, compassionate lady that I met in my blackest hour of need? Looking at her now, I couldn't find her anywhere, just this cold person with calculated stare as she glanced down once again at the small piece of paper that I assumed was a big fat check.
"Okay", I spoke quietly, "but Esme, maybe you shouldn't have done that. You probably don't even know anything about him, I mean, for all we know he could be a serial killer or…or…a thief, or a…"
She huffed indignantly. "Don't be such a pessimist, Bella, he's perfectly fine."
Has she not met me?
"Okay," I say, dragging out the word, "well, at least it's just for a few hours, right? I can handle that. Although to pay that amount of money for just tonight is…more than generous."
"Well..."
"What? " What is she not telling me?
"He...asked if he could spend a little more time than just a night with you, or well...you know, more..."
"More what? Hours? Days? Months?" My voice now dead serious.
"Months. Ten to be exact."
My eyes widened. "Ten months? TEN MONTHS?! "
"Shhhhh..." She whisper yelled. " I told you to keep that voice of yours down, no need to panic for nothing." Her voice hardened further, as if that was possible, which apparently was.
"Esme, can you please let go of my hand, you're hurting me."
She frowned unnaprovingly as she kept on talking, but did what I asked. "Now, this is not how I usually run my business, but he did seem quite...persistent about you, so I agreed."
"Yes, because apparently turning down a milionare was quite difficult to do," I retorted.
"Careful," she warned.
"Or what?" I asked defiantly, anger clearly coloring my tone of voice.
"You don't want to find out child, trust me. With just one phone call I can make your worst nigtmare come true."
"Like what? By ending up on the street? Bad news Esme, but I was already heading there before I met you."
Before Esme had even a chance to answer, a male person walked in.
"Ma'am, are you ready? Mr. Masen would like to leave." Then suddenly leaning towards me, as if his boss could hear him, he whispered a bit nervously, "And I assure you, he is not a person who waits for anybody."
I took a glance between Esme's deathly look and the driver's gentle but impatient one and decided against my better judgement to follow this so called 'business propositon' that had already been closed against my will. And really, how worse could it be?
Well, if you stick around, you'll find out the answer to this question soon.
Thanks for reading.
