Page 1 of Mayfair Madame
Chapter One
Naomi
“This is Naomi.” I jumped as my date’s hand slipped from the small of my back to my arse and squeezed.
If he weren’t paying me to be here, I’d have slapped his face. Instead, I giggled into my hand and played the subservient girlfriend.
Except, I was no one’s girlfriend. I was a high-class escort. A call girl. A prostitute. Call it what you will, but I charged a fee for my time, and I wasn’t cheap.
A different night brought a different client, and as long as they paid up front, I’d be anyone they wanted me to be. Girlfriend, fake wife. It didn’t matter to me. Cold, hard cash mattered.
The man standing opposite me guffawed. “Where’d you find this one, Winthrop? Seems like you have a different girl on your arm every damn time I see you. But this one…” A sliver of disgust washed through me as his eyes roamed my body, lingering on the long gold chain nestled between my breasts.
Oscar, my stylist, had outdone himself. The gold beaded gown I wore cost more than I paid him each month, but my client was important, and I needed to impress. It left little to the imagination, the low-cut neckline showing more than a hint of cleavage.
The client, Clement Winthrop, was a businessman of note. A multi-millionaire, no less, and this wasn’t the first time he’d hired me, but if he carried on being handsy, it’d be the last. While I didn’t have a ‘no touching’ rule in the contract, overtly sexual touches weren’t allowed for good reason.
I wasn’t some piece of meat they could fondle whenever they wanted to. This was a business transaction. Nothing more, nothing less.
I expected all my girls and boys to be treated the same. Too many times I’d seen it lead to more, especially with the entitled arseholes we often worked with who thought the rules didn’t apply to them.
Each employee had their own limitations, but I encouraged them to abide by this one important clause. I’d seen firsthand what could happen when things went too far.
Despite his wandering hands, I felt safer with Clement than I did with the man currently salivating over me.
Bad vibes emanated from him. He was old and obese, with sagging jowls. The smell of stale alcohol and cigar smoke lingered on his clothes and breath. His thick, bushy beardand moustache made me think of Santa, but that was where the comparison ended. I’d never seen Father Christmas with a lascivious look in his eyes, or an obvious bulge in his trousers.
But there was no way I was letting a creep like him intimidate me. Better men had tried and failed.
“Clement, you didn’t tell me this fine man’s name.” I subtly removed his hand from my arse to my waist.
“I’m Benjamin Godfrey.LordBenjamin Godfrey. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Naomi. You really are quite exquisite.” Again with the staring. It was disconcerting, and my insides churned beneath his gaze. “I thought you were single, Clement.”
“Yes. Well, I kind of am. Naomi isn’t really my girlfriend.” Clement stuttered, not the most confident man.
“Ah, I get it.” Benjamin tapped the end of his nose, and he smiled smugly. “Say no more, Winthrop. When you’re done with her, I’d be happy to take her off your hands.”
I struggled to hold in the laughter that bubbled in my throat. Did he seriously think he had a chance with me? All the money in the world wouldn’t tempt me to go with that old goat.
“I’m right here, gentlemen, and there’ll be no passing me around.” I glared at him, daring him to say more.
“No. No, of course not,” Clement said, his voice shaky. “We would never do that to you. Would we, Benjamin?”
I didn’t wait for an answer, desperate to escape.
“I’ll leave you two to talk. I need to find the little girl’s room, anyway.”
It didn’t happen often, but that man made my skin crawl. As I walked out of the room, I felt his eyes on me, and I only relaxed as I climbed the sweeping staircase to the bathroom.
I’d been here many times before, but not with Clement. Upon arrival this evening, the hostess, Lady Hartlebury, had greeted me with a warm embrace.
“It’s so lovely to see you again, Naomi.” She’d whispered in my ear.
“You too, Emmeline.” I’d held her close, shocked by how frail she’d become since the last time we’d met.
We’d had a brief affair several years ago, despite her being considerably older than me. It had been a torrid, passionate few months. Her husband had recently passed, and I’d been a distraction more than anything else, but with the business I was in, we’d agreed to end it before a scandal ensued.
I lingered by the bedroom door and remembered the nights we’d lain awake, naked in each other’s arms. She’d talked about her husband, her tears soaking the pillow.
