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The Escort

By:Amy Brent

The Escort
Amy Brent

       CHAPTER 1



Rayna





I stepped into the kitchen to pour some coffee into my travel cup,  seeing that it was empty. My husband, James, worked days while I pulled  more of a swing shift and we often missed each other during the week.  Not that it was a bad thing. I frowned as I filled the large cup with  the potent brew that started while I was in the shower, adding some  cream to lighten the dark brown liquid.



Things had been bad for years now, and steadily getting worse. I knew  that we married because our families were close to begin with, and the  fact that I'd known James since grade school. It just made sense for us  to marry and as I looked around the top-of-the-line chef's kitchen that  was hardly used, I realized that it painted a pretty picture for the  world. It was a picture that was fading around the edges, tearing apart.



I grabbed my purse and walked out into the garage, sliding into my Range  Rover to go to the office. James worked at a law firm in Los Angeles  and worked some of the toughest divorces in the history of celebrities,  making thousands of dollars and impressing all our high-class friends. I  sometimes wondered why he didn't just divorce me instead of losing  respect for me as the years passed, but James stayed.



I got a job to get out of the house, finding something a bit edgy  through a friend that wasn't part of my usual crowd. Lana was a woman  that I met at a local coffee shop that was as far removed from Starbucks  as it could possibly be. Grinder's was a single shop with vibrant  colors splashed on the walls and mismatched furniture in the same  shades. It offered a great variety of organic appetizers and small  meals, and of course, delicious coffees and teas. I stepped in quite by  accident one day while I was secretly thrift shopping to kill time,  craving a job of my own just two years into my marriage.



Lana was sitting in a booth with her dark purple hair and bright blue  eyes, sipping coffee as she worked on a laptop. Something about her  struck me, and I watched her for a moment before I looked around the  large shop. My own hair was a dark blonde that hung down my back in  loose curls and glasses that I'd been wearing for years covered my deep  blue eyes. I felt so dull compared to most of the people in here, and I  laughed to myself as I approached the counter to order.



I sat down and pulled out my phone to look at the job ads for the day on  one of the popular sites. I had been looking for a few months, and as  my eyes skimmed the words, I took a drink from my cup of coffee. I came  across something that sounded interesting, reading the short ad that  asked for someone to assist in a business, booking appointments and  keeping a flow in the busy setting. The ad didn't say what the job was,  but it did specify that the hours were late afternoons into the night.  That appealed to me. I looked at the email and memorized it, leaving the  screen to send a message inquiring if the position was filled.



I set my phone down, smiling as I looked around to see the woman with  the purple hair watching the screen of her own phone. She typed  something with a smile and set it back down, focusing on the laptop as  she entered something with a slight frown. My phone chimed, and I looked  down to see a response to my email, opening it curiously to see that it  was still available and that they would love to fill it as soon as  possible. There was a phone number, and I licked my lips before I pulled  up the screen to dial the number, glancing around to make sure I  wouldn't be inconveniencing any of the customers. There were just one  and a half rings before someone answered, and I blinked as it seemed to  echo through the room. "Hello. I was calling about the job," I said as  the woman answered me, making me realize that she was in the same shop  as I was. I raised my eyes to see the woman with the purple hair looking  around as well, and she smiled as our eyes met.



That was how I met Lana, learning over coffee that she was an escort at a  successful service in the city, and that they were short an assistant.  She must have seen the horror on my face since she laughingly assured me  that I would be making the bookings, not the hooking. Once she told me  about the pay and the hours, going into the general atmosphere of the  office as well, I had to admit that I was intrigued. I didn't need the  money. James made plenty, but I craved the edgy life that this promised,  a job where I could escape the life I led every day without going over  the edge of the cliff.



After we had spoken for an hour, I accepted the job as I made a mental  decision to tell all my family and friends that I was assisting a  photographer. They could never know the truth.



Lana took me right over to the office, located in a building on the same  block with an office on the seventh floor. It had a few rooms, and Lana  told me that this was the operations office and that most of the girls  didn't come here too often. She was a close friend of the woman that  started the business, so she helped a bit more than the average escort,  but she was looking forward to getting back to normal.                       
       
           



       



I wondered what normal was like as she set me up in an office and showed  me the booking process. Most of the clients used an online system to  book their girls, but some old school clients still called. I'd handle  both, along with the other girls in the office that Lana introduced me  to. Sarah and Millie reminded me of Lana, though they were very nice and  seemed as though they were going to be helpful. I watched as she showed  me the spreadsheets with the names and pictures of the girls, including  their specialties as I blushed. Lana giggled, asking me what my story  was as I told her that I'd been married for two years. She smiled as she  looked at me and I wished that I felt the joy that should be behind  those words.



At least I had a part of my life that would just be for me now, someplace I could be a different woman.





CHAPTER 2



Rayna





I thought about the years that passed since that first day as I parked  in the lot by the office. There was a lot of resentment in the fact that  James became verbally abusive towards me as well as the signs of being  physically violent with me. Had it really been just five years since the  wedding?



If I didn't have the escape of work, I would have gone crazy. I think it  is what got me through the harder times since I collaborated with warm,  fun people in a professional setting. There were days that I didn't  even feel like it was an escort agency since I was merely booking  appointments and getting the information to the necessary parties. The  money was great, and at this point, I was stocking it away so I could  leave James and make it on my own. I knew that our families would be  horrified since we were the picture-perfect couple everywhere but home.  James faked it well though I had a hard time eating if we were at any  kind of lunch or dinner, causing me to drop some weight.



That only prompted the families to tell me to get pregnant so I could  out some weight on, though I knew that they really meant they wanted an  heir to the family fortune. They wanted a capable person that would go  into law just as all the men had, preferably a man.



They could go to hell if they ever thought I'd have children with James.  Our sex life was practically non-existent being that we worked  different schedules. When I did go home late at night, he was often  gone. James worked at the office every chance that he could though so I  wasn't surprised. He had a place to sleep there for the nights that he  worked through to the morning, just to catch a nap.



I got out and walked down the walkway and up to the glass door that led  to my building. I wasn't sure how the owners did it, but they had a  legitimate space for us to work. I knew it wasn't an obvious name and  that we kept our communications vague, but there were much worse issues  to deal with in this city than an escort service. It was professional,  and the girls were as safe as they could be, with background checks on  the high-end clients and strict rules for everyone involved to be  careful.



I took the elevator up and walked through our main door to my office,  calling out my hellos as I moved forward. The girls said hi back with  big smiles on their faces, and I set my bag down on the desk as I looked  out of the window over Hollywood Boulevard. "It's busy today. There's a  holiday weekend coming up, and everyone needs a friend," Sarah warned  me with a weak smile as I powered on my computer.



She wasn't lying. The site was full of bookings to be made, and I pulled  up everything I needed to work, sipping my coffee as I started to read.  I matched requests to the girls, depending on their schedules and the  fetishes that these clients preferred didn't even phase me anymore. I  sent texts about appointments to the girls and return messages to  customers with nothing but a time. We used a regular hotel that was high  end over in Beverly Hills for the meetings all the time, where the  girls would be secure. All of the customers knew that.

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