This companionship service was...
Cress's fingers faltered on the keyboard. She had received an automated email from Thorne's website that morning reminding her to leave a review. Her heart had leapt for one second when she had seen it, thinking that Thorne was contacting her after all. But the email was just as professional as all of his communications before she had met him, and also just as impersonal. It gave her a code as a verified customer to leave a review.
She had forgotten about leaving him a review after she had returned home and sent him a check with all the money she owed him, including the tip she had promised him.
This companionship service was everything I needed, she typed, her hands shaking. Thorne was— No. She deleted Thorne and started again: The captain was the embodiment of the perfect boyfriend. He met all of my expectations and more. Careful, girls, or you'll fall in love with him!
She read over her review, then added a winking smiley face at the end. Her face was red as she pressed Submit.
The page refreshed with a new message. Thank you for leaving a review! Please take a moment to fill out the anonymous customer satisfaction survey below. This survey, along with your review, will help me improve and allow future clients to make educated decisions about this service. Hey, it helped you decide to hire me, right?
Cress looked at the first question.
On a scale of 0 to 10, with 0 being not satisfactory, and 10 being exceeded expectations, how would you rate your level of satisfaction from this service?
Cress closed the window. Getting up from her desk, she padded into the other corner of her small studio apartment. She was supposed to be working at the library today, but she had canceled, calling in sick. She really couldn't afford to do so, especially now that she had sent Thorne the money, but yesterday had been miserable as her first day back from the holidays.
Of course, all the books that people were checking out seemed to be romantic love stories. She had read them all, sorted them all, even memorized their covers and blurbs. She knew which ones were made into movies and which ones featured the most handsome protagonists. Romance in books were so unrealistic.
It was a relief that she had called in sick. She would have gotten Thorne's email at work otherwise, and so far she had managed to avoid crying in public. Now she could shuffle back into bed and bury herself beneath the covers while trying to figure out where she would go from here.
Thorne's phone made a chirping noise. He sighed, knowing that it was just his work email. He had purposely changed his notification sounds this week. There had been too much anticipation with each notification before, only to realize that it was just clients sending him requests.
He knew it had been too much to hope that Cress might contact him.
He picked up his cell phone and scrolled to his work email. A new review has been posted to your website, said the heading. A small jitter went through Thorne's nerves. The only person who could've left a review was Cress. He clicked on the link immediately and logged into his admin account.
Client Cress D. left an anonymous review at 1:15 P.M. on 12/30/16:
This companionship service was everything I needed. The captain was the embodiment of the perfect boyfriend. He met all of my expectations and more. Careful, girls, or you'll fall in love with him! ;)
Objectively, her review was the perfect blurb for his site.
Thorne stared at it, though, knowing he'd never be able to use it. He couldn't use Cress that way.
You'll fall in love with him? Was she being sarcastic, giving a warning to all of his potential clients, or trying to send him a message?
More importantly, was Cress in love with him?
"Please do not contact me," she had said.
Thorne opened his contact list and dialed a number.
Cress's phone rang a few minutes after she had thrown herself into bed. Her heart pattered as she reached up to her nightstand to see who was calling. She had just submitted her review. Had Thorne gotten it and decided to call her?
If he was calling, what would she do? What would she say? Did she even want him to call? Especially when she had told him not to?
Pulling the phone back under the covers, she saw that it was a private number. Oh stars, it was Thorne. Should she let it go to voicemail?
Shakily, she pressed the accept button, taking a deep breath. "Hello?"
"Yes, may I speak with Cress Darnel?"
It wasn't Thorne. She exhaled and closed her eyes. "This is she," said Cress tiredly.
"My name is Martha Appleton," said the voice coolly. "I'm with Parker Design and Production. We received your application and portfolio and were quite impressed. I'm calling because we would like to interview you. Do you have a few minutes to chat right now?"
Cress sat up in bed, pulling the hood off her face and attempted to clear her throat. Parker Design and Production? She had applied to them more than four months ago. It had been on a whim—one which she had later regretted when she had heard nothing. They wanted to interview her?
"Yes, I have a few minutes now," she said scrambling off the bed and running for her laptop where she kept all of her planned interview question answers. "Thank you for calling me. I'm very excited to hear from you. Happy New Year!"
"Yes," said Martha. "Indeed. Now, Cress, where do you see yourself in five years?"
"Hey, it's Thorne," he said, hoping his voice sounded as scraggly as he intended.
"Hey, baby," said Luisa. "You excited for tomorrow?"
"That's why I'm calling." Thorne coughed a few times. "I've come down with something. A nasty flu."
He could hear her anger and disappointment before she even spoke. "The flu? You are not calling me to cancel!"
"I don't know. I wanted to give you a heads up in case I don't get better."
"Oh no, you don't! You are coming no matter how sick you are. I need you there."
Thorne sighed dramatically. "I know. And I want to be there for you. You know that. But I'm human. And if I'm sick, I'm sick. You don't think Tony is going to be jealous of a guy covered in mucus, do you? Not to mention, I have this ugly rash under my nose from blowing it so much."
Luisa groaned. Thorne's mouth ticked into a smile. He smothered it quickly, so as to make sure his voice didn't betray his real feelings.
"Well, keep me posted," she said. "And let me know if you need anything. I can get you chicken soup or something boring like that if it will help. I really need you there, Thorne."
"That's sweet, Luisa. I'll go to sleep really early tonight and hope I feel better tomorrow. I'll make sure to text you in the morning so you have the whole day to plan in case I can't come."
"You will not get any of my money or any of my future money if you bail on me at last minute like this," she said, all the kindness leaving her voice. Back to the typical, selfish Luisa that he knew so well. "Maybe you should think about having a replacement companion if you are not available. What am I supposed to tell my friends?"
"The truth."
"That I don't have a boyfriend!"
"No, Luisa," he said, then coughed violently. "That your boyfriend got sick."
She hung up on him.
Thorne pocketed his phone and pulled on his coat. He couldn't believe that he had just canceled on one of his most frequent regular clients. Luisa's desperate scheming against her ex had helped him store enough money away for the down payment on his house, which he had just purchased two months ago. He needed clients like her to keep up his monthly mortgage payments. And the extra cash he could get on holidays, plus Luisa's $2,000 promised tip.
He could do a lot with an extra two grand.
But spending New Year's Eve with Luisa's tongue down his throat was not going to work when his mind would be on Cress the entire evening. No matter how much it cost him financially, his mind needed to be in the game or he would embarrass Luisa and himself. This was just a temporary setback while he sorted out his stupid emotions. He'd make it up to Luisa later, maybe offer a discount.
He wondered what excuse Cress had given for his absence at the party tomorrow, if any. Had she already told them that she'd dumped him? Would she still go to the party, even if she only had Jacin and Winter for company? A party with his sister's modeling agency did not sound like the best option for her without a friend at her side. He imagined her standing next to Jacin, watching him drool over Winter as she posed for a bunch of photos.
It was Cress's nightmare.
He really needed to think of something else to do tomorrow. Sitting at home thinking about Cress at Winter's party would not work out for him. Wallowing was not his style. He just needed a party of his own to go to.
He tried to think of which friends he could call at last minute as he crunched down his walkway to his mailbox. Zipping his jacket up more tightly around himself, he ran through the list of people he could consider his friends.
He had a lot of buddies who he was friendly with, but no one he was particularly close to. It was better that way. It made certain that he didn't run into anyone he knew when he went out with clients, and in the rare case that he did, he could just pretend it was a date too. No one was ever surprised to hear that he was with someone else. He had a reputation amongst his friends, too.
Lately, he had chosen to forego friendship whenever he had a client who wanted his service. As a result, the number of texts he received with invites to parties was much lower these days. That had been fine with him, really, because he went to enough parties with his clients.
He was not fine with it today.
Thorne absentmindedly pulled a few chunks of ice off of his mailbox and reached inside. He hadn't checked his mail all week and inside it was stuffed to the brim. He sorted through it as he walked back up his walkway. Junk, more junk, a few business Christmas cards from stores where he often made purchases, more junk. An envelope from Cress Darnel.
Thorne stopped walking. Her address was stamped at the top, and though he knew he had it somewhere in all of his client papers, he had never really bothered to look at it. She lived in the Warehouse District, not far from the Minneapolis Central Library. Was that the library she worked for? He realized he didn't even know. There were so many things he didn't know about her.
He clumsily tore open the envelope with one hand, holding it still with the pinky of his injured hand. There was a check inside. That was it. It was made out to him in the amount of $2,400. His mouth dropped open. In the little part of the check where one could write a reason for the money, she had just scribbled: Rest of fee plus tip.
He double checked the envelope to make sure he hadn't missed anything, but there was nothing. No handwritten note, no location of the party tomorrow, no nothing.
Cress was not in love with him at all. Cress was done with him.
"Please do not contact me," she had said.
He had respected her wishes all week and would continue to do so.
Shaking his head, he trudged back inside. If he wasn't going to be with Cress tomorrow, then he was going to do anything it took to get over her. He would start this new year on his own terms, not on the terms of one of his clients or on the terms of a woman who clearly had him by the balls.
He pulled out his phone again, trying to think of who to contact. Who did he actually like? Who was a tolerable companion for him? Could he find anybody who was more than tolerable?
He didn't want to be around a client, but he did like women. It had been way too long since he'd kissed anyone for pleasure, not business. Cress had ended that drought. He had to keep up his momentum.
After all, New Year's Eve was a night for pleasure, not business, and it was about time he acted like it.
He needed a guys' night out to get shitfaced at some club while they picked up chicks. No pretending, no money.
He'd forget Cress and meet some gorgeous woman who was also overdue for some attention. Someone who wouldn't care what he did for a living because they wouldn't be looking for anyone they would remember the next day either.
Thorne thumbed through his contacts and began sending out messages.
