Previously: After a wild night out with Charlotte, a sick Hannah got ride home from Ben. She tried once again to apologize, but he told her that he needed time, promising to call her when he was ready.
Chapter Four
Belle
There are a lot of things that I love about my job. The money, the sex, the excitement. But there's nothing I love more than this. An all expense paid weekend getaway in Crete, courtesy of Marcello Cagliani, one of my regulars. He's a forty-something millionaire several times over and has his own private jet. We went to the Maldives together for three weeks about six months ago. Not only is Marcello rich, generous, and gorgeous, he's also a great lover. The perfect package.
Now, I haven't traveled much in my life. I've only been to Scotland, the Maldives, New York, and Wales on a school trip in the sixth form. It's about time I expanded my horizons. After all, there are millions of men all over the world that I have yet to meet, and I can always use more clients.
Marcello had arranged for his personal chauffeur, Raoul, to pick me up and take me to the airfield where his plane would be waiting for me. I'd fly down and meet him and we'd spend a luxurious weekend together. I know, it sounds a bit like I'm just using the bloke for his money and the opportunity to see the world, but I do enjoy his company. And I make sure he gets his money's worth and then some.
Raoul arrived at my place exactly on time. I, however, was running fifteen minutes late. I alarm clock hadn't gone off on time and if it hadn't been for Bambi calling, I probably wouldn't be up now. I'd asked Bambi to come housesit for my while I'm away. You can't be too careful these days.
I was zipping my last suitcase when I heard my mobile ringing. "Hello?" I said, using all of my strength to zip the over-filled carry-on.
"Belle? This is Raoul, Mr. Cagliani's driver. I'm outside your house…."
"Yeah, I know, sorry. I'm running a bit late." I threw all of my weight down on the bag and with one final tug I zipped it.
"I have to remind you that the plane is leaving in an hour, so if we want to get you there on time, we have to get going."
"I'll be right down." I disconnected and blew a stray wisp of hair out of my eyes. I hate being late. Ever since I was a little girl it's driven me mad. My mother's the exact same way. It's strange that she and I aren't as close as my dad and I, considering we're so much alike. I can't remember the last time she and I had a heart-to-heart. Probably never.
I lugged my bags down the stairs and made my way through the foyer to the front door. Raoul was waiting for me on the porch. Without a word, he took my bags and carried them down to the car for me. "Thanks," I said, shutting and locking the door behind me. I'd left Bambi a key under the doormat. Raoul opened my door for me and after helping me in, shut it. Wow, a perfect gentleman.
The traffic was light on the way to the airfield and as we pulled up to the plane, I couldn't help but squeal in excitement. Marcello had gotten a newer, bigger, and more fabulous private jet. I guess the recession isn't affecting everyone. I was up and out of the car before Raoul could get around to open my door. "I'll grab your bags, Miss," he said dutifully, popping the trunk and straining to lift my heavy baggage. I ran ahead and went up the ramp, gasping as I saw the interior. Marcello had had the interior designed to look like King Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette's royal bedchamber at Versailles. He'd certainly gone all out.
I walked through the room, admiring the architecture. It felt like I was actually standing in Versailles, looking at the real bedchamber. What? I have a few fantasies of my own. Who doesn't want to be fucked in Marie Antoinette's bed? I sat down on the edge of bed, giggling excitedly.
Raoul set my bags down and with a bow of his head, exited the plane. A flight attendant came along and took my bags off somewhere. "Can I get you anything to drink?" a female flight attendant asked, popping up out of nowhere.
"Champagne, please?" Technically, I'm on the job, but one little drink won't kill me.
"Here you are," a deep, accented voice said. I looked up and grinned.
"Marcello!" I jumped up into his arms.
"How's my Belle, eh?" he asked, smiling so that his eyes crinkled up.
"Wonderful. How are you?"
"Bellisimo."
I pulled back. " I thought you were meeting me down there?"
"Ah, I wanted to surprise you."
"I am surprised."
"I got you a little something." He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out small black jewelry box. I'm used to clients giving me gifts. It's one more perk to this job, as if there weren't enough already. God, I love my job!
"Marcello, you shouldn't have."
"Go on, open it, mi amore.
Feeling like a kid on Christmas morning, I accepted the jewelry box and opened it. My mouth dropped open. It was a beautiful gold ring with a diamond setting. Not an engagement ring, but almost as extravagant. "Oh, my God," I whispered.
"Do you like it?" Marcello eyed me with interest.
"It's perfect," I said, slipping it onto my right ring finger. "Thank you."
"You're more than welcome, Belle. I want to keep you happy. That way you'll come back again."
I hugged him again, my enthusiasm apparent. The ring was marvelous, easily worth a million pounds. What did I do to deserve this? "You're so good to me."
"Consider it my thank you gift for this weekend. An incentive, if you will." An incentive? As if the two hundred thousand pounds wasn't enough incentive?
"No one will bother us, right?" I asked, looking over at the doorway.
"No. They only come in if they are paged. Why?"
"I'd like to show my appreciation," I said, pushing him back onto the bed. Marcello laughed. I love it when he laughs. It can always cure me of a bad mood. I got down on my knees, undoing his belt. He worked his trousers down around his waist and I pulled them down the rest of the way. Eyes gleaming with lust, I took him into my mouth. Marcello may not be the most well endowed man on the planet, but he knows how to use what he's got. And he loves to use it, over and over and over. He really is the perfect client.
Three orgasms and half a blue pill later, we arrived in Crete. Marcello owns a hotel in the center of the island. People from all over the world flocked to Crete just to stay there. From what I've heard it has a wet bar, pool, gym, spa, gardens, tennis court, and a beach. Looks like I'm going to have a fabulous weekend.
When our plane landed, a car was waiting to take us the rest of the way to the hotel. "It's molto bene," Marcello assured me. "You're going to have the time of your life."
"I'm sure I will." I glanced down at the ring glittering on my finger for about the millionth time so far.
"I'll be away on business for most of the day tomorrow, but you have access to all the hotel has to offer. You're my V.I.P."
"I've never been anyone's V.I.P. before," I joked. "I feel special."
"You should. You're one of a kind, Belle." He clasped my hand in his and brought it up to his lips, kissing it tenderly. "No one could ever replace you in my heart."
I know that isn't true, but I choose to believe it anyway. Stephanie had given Marcello to me as a sympathy gift. I'd just found out that my then-boyfriend and editor Duncan Atwood, who'd been so accepting of my job, had been shagging half the escorts in London behind my back, including Bambi. Of course, she hadn't known until the day of her wedding they'd properly met for the first time. It had broken my heart, but I was used to it by then.
The first thing I noticed when we got out of the car was how hot it was. The temperature stays pretty cool in London, with lots of fog and rain. I love it. I've never been one for extreme temperatures. I couldn't imagine living in Florida or California where it's hot all year-round. I'm a spoilt girl, I don't like to sweat. Unless I'm in the bedroom, that is.
A bellhop came along with a cart to whisk my bags up to our room. I noticed that Marcello hadn't brought any luggage of his own. Then again, he owns the hotel, so he probably has a wardrobe already here. Must be nice. "So, what do you think?" he asks, leading me by my hand.
"It's perfect!" I exclaim, laughing. "It's so sunny and beautiful. Look at the water," I pointed out at the sea. "It's so blue."
"It's not contaminated like the water we're used to seeing."
"I wish I could live here," I mumbled. Even though I'd hate the warm temperatures, the beauty and history would be enough to keep me here. Maybe if I save up enough money, I'll buy myself a summer home here. Yeah.
"Anything is possible, Belle," Marcello assured me, "with hard work and the right attitude."
"Are you speaking from experience?" I don't know much about Marcello's past. I guess it doesn't matter, but seeing as I'm spending the next few days with him…why not get to know each other better? I know practically everything about my favorite client, Ashok. I'd gotten a call from him the week before saying that he would be home soon and couldn't wait to see me. I miss him tremendously. I've had him every second Wednesday for the last six years. He was the first man I slept with as an escort.
Marcello nodded. " I grew up poor. My father owned a small bread shop, and as you can imagine, it didn't bring in much money. And with nine children to support, we had to forgo a lot. None of my brothers and sisters went to university, and I hadn't planned on going either. But at twenty, I'd decided to move to London to pursue a career on the West End. I've sung all my life and everyone tells me I sing like an angel. It's true."
"It's nice to know that you're not modest," I teased.
"What can I say? I don't lie.." He laughed. "Anyway, when I moved to London, finding a job was harder than I expected. I was living in one room palazzo with a friend of my cousin Marguerita's."
"I can't imagine that was fun for you. Being a stranger in strange city."
"It wasn't, but I survived. I kept applying for jobs, but they all wanted me to have a degree. So, I enrolled at Oxford and got a degree in business management."
"How did you afford it?" I asked. Oxford isn't cheap. I'd applied there after college, but the tuition had been too high.
"I eventually found a job at a local pizzeria. I worked myself nearly to the point of exhaustion, but in the end it was worth it. I now own one of the most successful hotel chains in world. And I'm here with the most beautiful woman to ever grace this earth."
"Oh, stop." I blushed. "That is so not true."
"It is from where I'm standing." He looped his arm around my waist and I snuggled into the crook of his arm.
After showing me the grounds, Marcello took me in. The hotel – thankfully – had air conditioning. After being outside for nearly an hour, I was drenched with sweat and probably wreaked like a bathhouse. First thing on my agenda: take a shower. We were given our keys at the front desk and Marcello led me to our private lift.
Our hotel "room" was actually more like a hotel in itself. It took up a whole two floors with a beautiful winding staircase leading up the second level where the bedroom and bathroom were. The first floor contained a smaller bathroom, living room – complete with top of the line imported Italian furniture—a kitchen out of Architectural Digest with stainless steel countertops and appliances, and a terrace that melted my heart. The view of the ground and the ocean was breathtaking. I was definitely going to enjoy my stay. Even if Marcello left me alone, I'd still have plenty to do.
"I take it you find everything satisfactory?" Marcello asked, rubbing his hands together.
"Satisfactory? More like Heaven-on-earth. I can literally hear the angels singing. No wonder you're a hotel magnate. You know how to give people exactly what they want. Who couldn't love it here?"
"My thoughts exactly." He laughed. "I've got a business dinner in an hour. I don't think you'd enjoy it. It's just me and a bunch of other men talking about boring, business things. So, why don't I go get ready for that and you go check out the pool. It's Olympic sized and the water is as blue and pure as the ocean out there." He waved out the window."
I shrugged. "All right. I could use a bit of a tan. I haven't gotten much sun since our last trip."
"I remember." He kissed my hand again. "Everything you want is yours. If you get hungry, go down to the restaurant and order whatever you want. I told them that you were my special guest and that to deny you was to deny me."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome." He leaned down and kissed me. "Have fun."
"You, too." I watched him walk out of the room and I settled back onto the Mies Van Der Rohe couch. Maybe I'd take a quick nap to fight off the jet lag and then go down to the pool for a dip and an hour of tanning. I lay back on the pillow and felt my eyes grow heavy. Within a seconds, I was fast asleep.
Hannah
A few hours later, I stepped out onto the deck, surveying the crowd. The pool was full of people, but there was definitely enough room that I could squeeze in. I sashayed across the wooden walkway, my heels clacking with each step. I'd changed out of my traveling dress into a skin-tight black bikini. I'd pulled my hair back into a French braid and dark sunglasses shielded my eyes from the blinding sun.
I was covered in sweat before I made it across the deck. Kicking off my shoes, I stepped down into the cool water. It felt heavenly after the overwhelming heat above. I let the water pull me under, closing my eyes against the burn of chlorine. I resurfaced, shaking my hair out. I felt so much better already. Now, to get a drink. I got out of the pool and sat down on the nearest lawn chair. A cute waiter approached me; a charming smile making my heart beat faster. "Can I get you anything to drink Ms. Baxter?" he asked.
"Just a water, please," I answered, slipping my sunglasses back on.
"Coming right up." I admired the view of his ass in the tight khakis he was wearing as he went to get my drink. Maybe if I got too bored without Marcello I could pick up a little extra business…I know, it's not professional, but hey, money's money. He was back within a few seconds. "Here you are."
"Thank you." I twisted my finger in my hair flirtatiously.
"You're welcome." He winked and walked away, on to his next customer. Typical man.
I settled back into my chair, closing my eyes. It doesn't take me long to get a little color. I figured I'd lay out for about an hour or so and then head over to spa. A massage sounded delightful. I opened my bottle of water and took a drink, the cool liquid soothing my parched throat.
I was sure that I'd fallen asleep again because I suddenly heard a familiar voice say, "Do you fancy a dip in the pool, dear?" It was my mum's voice. I'd know it anywhere.
"You go on ahead. I'm going to sit and the bar and knock back a few," my father's voice responded,
Shit! My eyes shot open. I had to be dreaming. There was no way that my mum and dad were here, in Crete, right now. They were tucked away at home in London watching Graham Norton or Catherine Tate. I tilted my head to the left and sure enough, there was my mum, walking right toward me. Fuck!
Mum was looking down at her feet and if I played my cards right, I could get up and leave before she even saw me. I reached down and snatched up my heels. I didn't have time to put them back on – not if I wanted to get out undetected. I had only taken one step when I caught my foot on the leg of the lawn chair and loosing my balance, plummeted headfirst into the pool.
Maybe I can just hold my breath long enough for her to walk past, I thought. Unfortunately, I hadn't taken a breath before my tumble and now my lungs were burning, craving air. I used my legs to propel me to the surface. My sunglasses had floated off and the sunlight nearly blinded me.
There was silence for a minute and then, "Hannah?"
"Mum?" I squinted up at her, feigning innocence. "What are you doing here?"
"I was just about to ask you the same thing." She laughed. "Your dad and I decided to go on holiday."
"But why Crete of all place?" I got out of the pool, no longer feeling hot.
"Why not? It's beautiful."
"It sure is." I smiled gratefully when my cute waiter handed me a towel. He eyed my dripping wet body and grinned appreciatively before scuttling off.
"What about you? What are you doing here?" Mum queried.
"I'm uh…" My mind scrambled to find a logical excuse. Holiday? Wedding? Work trip? There, that's it! "I'm here on a business trip."
"Oh." She nodded, "I wasn't aware that nighttime legal secretaries got to go on business trips."
"Yeah…Well, my boss couldn't make it and he sent me instead. He said that I work too had and deserved a break."
"I wont argue that one. I haven't seen you since Christmas. And you only live cross town." She sniffed. Oh, no. Here we go. Mum's going to get misty eyed and try to guilt me into visiting more often.
"We're seeing each other now," I reminded her.
"Niall!" she shouted, turning back toward the bar
My dad turned around at the sound of Mum's voice. He was far enough away that he wouldn't be able to tell from that distance who Mum was standing with. "What is it, Gail?" he asked.
"It's Hannah! Look!"
Dad squinted before recognition settled in. He got up and walked over. "Hannah?"
"Hi, Daddy." I hugged him, realizing too late that I was going to get him wet, too.
"She's here on a business trip," Mum supplied.
"Oh." I suspect that my dad has an inkling about what I actually do for a living. I've never told him or never even hinted at it, so I don't know how he would have figured it out. But somehow he knows, or at least suspects. Maybe he saw my website. Oh, God! My dad was looking for escorts online? Gross!
"How long are you here for, Hannah?" Mum asked.
"Just till Sunday."
"Us, too."
"We've been here since Monday," Dad explained. "I finally saved up enough money to take your mum on that second honeymoon I've been promising her."
"How nice." I wanted to leave. Now. This was way too awkward. But what was I going to do? Walk away and break their hearts? No, I couldn't do that.
I looked toward the hotel entrance and spotted Marcello, waiting patiently. "I'd love to stay and chat, but I've got a business dinner to go to," I said.
"Will we see you again?" Mum had the waterworks going again.
I sighed. "I've got tomorrow free. How about we all meet for dinner?"
"That sounds lovely!" Mum brightened up.
"Great." I hugged her and blew a kiss at dad. As I was pulling away, she caught up my hand and frowned.
"What's this, then?" She eyed the diamond ring that Marcello had just given me.
"Oh, that's just…a gift from the company," I lied.
"You must be doing an excellent job." Mum pulled my hand closer so that she could inspect the ring. "Are those real diamonds?"
"I think so, yeah."
I caught Dad's eye and mouthed 'help me!' He nodded. "Come on, Val. Let's go for a swim. Hannah's got that meeting to get to. We'll see you tomorrow, sweetheart."'
"Can't wait." I kissed him on the cheek and hurried off. Marcello was watching me and when I was close enough, he put an arm around my waist. I didn't shake him off or turn around to see if my parents were watching. I just wanted to get out of there.
"Who were they?" Marcello asked.
"Believe it or not, they're my parents," I confessed.
"Are you kidding?"
"No. They're here on vacation." I sighed. "I thought you were going to a business dinner?"
"It got delayed an hour, so I thought I'd cine find you."
Back to work.
The next afternoon, I met Mum in the hotel restaurant for lunch. I had nothing better to do and figured that if I spent some time with her now, she might not be so emotional tonight at dinner. "You look nice," Mum complimented,
"Thank you. So do you." I sat down across from her. All we needed was Dad and Jackie and it would be a typical meal at the Baxter house .
Mum cleared her throat. "Is there anything you want to tell me, Hannah?" she asked, leaning in conspiratorially.
"What? No." I swallowed, my palms suddenly damp. Had Mum figured out that I'm an escort? That I've been lying to her for the past five years? Oh, shit! What am I going to do?
"I saw you with that gentlemen yesterday."
"What gentlemen?" Maybe playing coy would work.
"That Italian gentlemen." Marcello!
"Oh, no! That's Marcello. He's my…coworker."
"He seemed awfully…handsy for a colleague."
"Did he?" I gulped down my entire glass of wine.
"Hannah, you're engaged. Aren't you?" Mum asked, staring deeply into my eyes. I felt like she was looking right into my soul.
"What?" I almost fell out of my chair.
"The ring; the caresses; the trip to Crete…"
I thought about it a second before answering. If Mum believed that Marcello and I were getting married, that was a hell of a lot better than her finding out that I have sex with men –and occasionally women—for money. I could always explain later why it didn't work out with Marcello and we had to call the wedding off. "You caught me."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Mum looked hurt.
"It just happened," I said, convincingly. "He proposed to me yesterday afternoon.
"And when were you going to introduce him to your father and I? We weren't even aware that you were dating someone. Not after what happened with you and Ben." I'd told Mum that Ben and I had broken up because he had cheated on me.
"Soon?" I chewed my lip. "We haven't known each other that long and I didn't want to cause any trouble. Plus, he's a bit…older than me."
"How much older?"
"About twenty-five years?"
Mum's face remained unchanged. "Well, as long as he's good to you Hannah, that's all that matters to your dad and I."
"He is," I assured her. "He makes me very happy."
"So, when is the wedding?"
"We haven't decided yet."
"Where are you going to have it? Because we could rent out the church where Jackie did the baby's Christening and…"
Here we go. This is why I avoid my mother at all costs.
After lunch, I caught the private lift back up to the hotel suite. I unlocked the door and threw myself down on the sofa. It was very comfortable. I'd have to get the name of the designer from Marcello so that I could buy one for my house. I looked up at the staircase and gasped.
The hunky waiter from the day before was slowly descending them, a devilish grin tugging at his lips. "What the hell are you doing here?" I demanded, jumping to my feet. "You nearly scared me half to death!"
"Sorry." He had a cute American accent. "I snuck in to surprise you."
"What the hell for?"
"Well, after yesterday, I thought…"
"That I was interested in you?"
"Yeah." He stopped close enough to me that I could smell his cologne. It was something that I'd never smelled before. It was nice.
"You don't just barge into people's rooms and proposition them for sex," I said, folding my arms across my chest.
"But you're not just anyone. You're a prostitute."
My heart stopped beating. "How did you…?"
"I saw your website. I think you're sexy."
"Thanks for the compliment, but I'm not interested."
"Come on. I'll pay you."
"Still not interested." I crossed to the door and opened it.
"A thousand dollars."
I turned back around, a smile alighting my face.
Belle
While Brian waited in the main room, I went into the bathroom to freshen up. Marcello wasn't due back for at least six hours, so there was no danger of being caught. This isn't my first experience with moonlighting. I've done it loads of times and never gotten caught. I'm a professional at that, as well.
I finished applying eyeliner and did one last once-over. Flawless. Blowing a kiss into the mirror, I turned the light out and exited the room. "Brian?" I called, my voice low and sexy.
"You look even hotter, if that's possible." He was seated on the couch, his eyes glued to me. I love it when clients are in complete awe of me. It works to my advantage.
"Thank you." I slowly made my way over to him, maintaining eye contact. I could tell that he wanted me, if the erection pressing against his trousers was any indication. Now, I normally collect the money upfront, but in this case, I'll make an exception. I don't know exactly what Brian wants, but if it's too out there or too time consuming, I'll stick it to him. I'm not cheap.
I stopped in front of him, moving my hands around to my back. I undid the clasps on my bra and let it fall to the ground, my naked breasts swelling against the chill of the air conditioning. Brian's eyes flew to my breasts and I grabbed his hands, putting them on my nipples. "It's okay to touch," I said, never breaking eye contact.
Brian started to work his hands on my nipples, rolling them between his fingers. I stepped out of knickers and started to message my clitoris, slowly as to tease Brian.
He watched me, his cock growing even harder. "Don't cum yet," he whispered when I moaned quietly.
"Of course not," I assured him, placing my damp finger in his mouth. "We're just getting started."
"Oh, yeah."
I pulled him to his feet and unbuttoned his white cotton dress shirt. I could see from his pecs and abs that he worked out often. I felt his biceps, grinning when I struggled to fit a hand around one of them. He had a hot body. Now, to see what he has down below.
I undid his belt and tugged his pants down. He was wearing flattering black boxer briefs that could barely contain his manhood. I saw a dark wet spot where the tip of his penis was. He really was excited if the pre-cum was already flowing. I reached down and yanked his boxers down. I cast a glance down and grinned. He was big. Just how I like them.
Not waiting another moment, I pushed him back onto the couch and climbed into his lap. Reaching down into my fishnets, I pulled out a condom and tore the foil wrapping off with my teeth. I pulled out the latex condom and rolled it onto his mammoth cock. As soon as I was sure that condom was securely on, I lowered myself down onto it. A gasp escaped my lips as pleasure shot through me.
Brian clasped my back, his eyes half-open. I started to move my hips slowly. I didn't want it to be over too quickly. I was enjoying the sex more than I did with Marcello and didn't want it to end before I'd enjoyed it to the fullest. I rocked gently, holding onto the sofa cushion in a white-knuckled grip. Euphoria washed through my body and I forgot where I was or what I was doing. All that mattered was the pleasure.
Gail had decided to go up to Hannah's suite and surprise her. She'd said at lunch that her fiancé Marcello would be gone all day at a business meeting. She figured that she didn't see enough of her daughter and wanted to take advantage of the situation.
She'd gone to the front desk and explained to the receptionist that her daughter was staying with Marcello Cagliani. The receptionist had been more than happy to give Valerie a key and show her to the private lift that would take her up to the penthouse suite.
Exiting the lift, Gail scanned the keycard and saw the green light flash. She tugged the door open and stepped inside. "Wow," she whispered. Hannah wasn't joking when she said that Marcello was rich. She heard a faint moaning sound coming from the foyer. Hannah must have fallen asleep and is having a bad dream.
She turned into the main room and stopped dead in her tracks. Hannah was having sex with some guy – most definitely not her fiancé—on the couch. Her hips were moving furiously and her tits were bouncing with the motion of her body. "Oh, my God!" she gasped.
I was moving my hips faster, my climax drawing near. I cracked an eye open and saw that Brian was close, too. I moaned softly, the pleasure almost too much to bear. God, I love sex. I don't know what I'll do when I'm too old to have it anymore. I guess I'll have to take up a hobby like knitting or sewing. Kill me now.
Brian grasped my ass tightly, pulling my hips to him. I moaned again, nearly reaching my orgasm.
"Oh, my God!"
I whirled around. Fuck! My mum was standing right behind me, mouth open to the floor.
"Get out!" I screamed, jumping off of Brian and clutching a pillow to chest.
"I-I'm sorry…" Mum mumbled, frozen in place.
"Get her out of here!" Brian commanded. "I paid for my money's worth and I'm not going to get screwed over because you can't keep your mommy out."
"Shut up," I snarled, glaring at him.
"What did he say?" Mum gasped.
"Nothing, Mum." I grabbed her arm, trying to steer her away.
"What did he mean pay…?" Her eyes lit up in discovery.
"It's not what you think!" I blurted.
"You're a prostitute!"
I was utterly speechless. I cast my eyes downward, ashamed. My mum had not only walked in on me during sex and seen me completely naked; she'd also discovered that I'm a whore.
"Hannah?" Mum pressed.
I forced myself to look at her, my eyes clouded with tears. "Mum, I…"
"No. No need to explain."
She turned and left. I heard the door shut behind her with a loud bang! What the fuck am I going to do now?
Brian came up behind me. "Can we finish now?" he asked. "I was just about to cum."
"You need to leave," I managed, throwing him his clothes.
"But I…"
"I said go!" I screamed, the tears spilling down my cheeks.
"Fucking whores," Brain muttered, following my mother out.
I dropped down onto the couch, my legs no longer able to hold me up. Everything was ruined. I'd not only destroyed my life, but my mother's well. How can I ever face her again? She's going to think I'm a whore. A filthy, disgusting, disease-ridden, whore.
Hannah
There was a light knocking on the door. I stood up and grabbed my bathrobe from the hanger. I slipped it on and tied it shut. Wiping my tears, I padded down to the door. I opened it to see my mum. "Hey," she said, her cheeks red with embarrassment.
"Hey." I held the door open for her. She followed me in and we went into the living room. "Look, Mum…"
"You don't have to explain, Hannah."
"I don't?"
"It's pretty evident. You're a prostitute."
"Yeah." I bit my lip to keep it from trembling.
"You have sex with men for money."
"Yeah."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
I looked at her, holding back a fresh wave of tears. "Because I knew if I did, you'd hate me. You'd think that I was disgusting and crawling with S.T.I.'s and worst of all, that you'd be disappointed in me." The tears came and I sobbed uncontrollably. I'd fucked everything up once again.
Suddenly, I felt my Mum's arms around me. "It's okay," she whispered, stroking my hair just like she'd done when I was little and Dad wasn't home to comfort me when I fell down and skinned my knee or awoke from a nightmare. "I don't think any of those things about you. And I am not disappointed in you."
"You're not?" I looked up at her.
"Of course not, honey. You're my daughter and I love you no matter what. I may not agree with what you're doing, but at least you're working and supporting yourself. What more could I ask for?"
"Thanks, Mum." I hugged her close, feeling bad for all the years that I'd hurt her –unintentionally – by favoring my father.
"I do have a question, however."
"Yes?"
She reached into her bag and pulled out a book. "Did you write this?"
I looked down at the title and laughed. The Secret Life of a London Call Girl.
"Yeah. Yeah, I wrote it."
"It was the strangest thing. Jackie bought this for me for Christmas, and as I started reading it, I kept hearing your voice. Like you were narrating it."
"That is weird."
"So, is everything in the book true?"
Dinner with my parents went better than I'd expected. Now that I no longer had to keep a secret, I felt at ease, like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Of course, we didn't talk about the fact that the cat was out of the bag, but we didn't need to. We laughed and reminisced about my childhood and things that were important to us. They said that they were going to get up and leave first thing in the morning and knowing that I can't get up before noon, we said our goodbyes. After hugging them both and feeling for the first time like they really got me, I promised to stop by and see them more often. And I meant it.
When I got back to the hotel room, there was a message on the phone from Marcello. He'd been held up at his meeting and didn't know when he'd be back. I decided to lie down and rest for a while. I'd had a stressful day and I couldn't afford wrinkles.
When I opened my eyes, it was going on noon. Marcello was making us a quick bite to eat before we left. "Good morning," he said, kissing the top of my head.
"Morning." I stretched. "What time did you get in last night?"
"About two."
"Why so late?"
"The meeting took a little longer than I'd planned. Sorry."
"You don't have to apologize." I shrugged. "It's not as if I'm your wife or anything."
After breakfast, we showered and caught a cab back to the airfield. We were mostly quiet on the car ride. Marcello was reading a newspaper and I was burning the images that were passing by into my memory. I never want to forget what a beautiful place Crete is and I hope to come back some day. Maybe Marcello will bring me next time he comes.
On the flight back home, Marcello and I made love. He was tender and sweet, holding me afterward as our hearts pounded in time. I buried my head in his neck, savoring his sweet smell. I'd grown even fonder of the old bloke this weekend and I would miss him. I didn't know when I'd see him again as he only booked me every couple of months.
"I really enjoyed this weekend, Belle," he assured me as we got off the plane.
"Me, too. Hopefully we'll do it again." I sketched a circle in the dirt with the point of my shoe.
"I'd love to. After the business negotiations are done and I go down to Brazil to oversee the construction of my new hotel, I'll give you a call. We'll go together."
"Sounds lovely."
"Thanks for a lovely time." He handed me an envelope nearly bursting with cash. I discreetly shoved it in my bag.
"The pleasure was all mine. Thank you for everything. I'd never get to see the world if it wasn't for you."
"You can always see the world, Belle. You just have to do it. No excuses. You're a woman of the world, it's time you got out and saw more of it."
"I'll think about it." I laughed. "So, I guess I'll talk to you later."
"Yes. I'll call you." He pulled me close and I hugged him, smiling. He may not be able to give me his undivided attention and time, but he was the perfect client. Kind, courteous, and a big tipper.
We said our goodbyes and I got into the car that was to take me home. I watched out the back window as Marcello's car rushed him off to God knows where. It must be quite a life to be jet setting all over the world every day of the week. I don't think it's for me. As much as I love seeing the world, I love London. And I don't plan to ever leave it.
When I got home, I found my mail stacked neatly on the table. Bambi had stayed and watered my plants and gotten the post. It felt good to be back in my own home. I was just about to climb into a bubble bath when my mobile shrilled. Looking down at the Caller I.D. my lips tugged into a smile. It was Ben! "Hello?"
"Han."
"How are you?" My heart raced with excitement.
"Great. And you?"
"Never better."
"Listen, I was thinking we could do lunch sometime soon. Catch up."
"Sounds perfect. I'll let you know when I'm free."
Yeah, my life is good. You could even say perfect.
Next Time: Belle's client has a Phantom of the Opera fantasy. After getting tested for HIV, Hannah gets upsetting news.