Page 33 of Role Play
“Could you pull it up?”
“Sure?” She cocks her head to the side like she’s confused, but obeys without hesitation. The blue light from her screen illuminates her face as she navigates to the app. Once she has her bank app open, she hands her phone over. My lips part in surprise at her transparency with a stranger. I can see all her account totals. I was with Hannah for four years and never oncedid she hand her phone over nonchalantly like she had nothing to hide. Sora’s earnestness is jarring…but in the best way.
“I’m going to program myself in here. Celeste told me your dress is designer. When you get it repaired, I want you to bill me.” I type my information into her phone, my thumbs moving quickly across the screen. The phone chimes as my contact info is saved. “There we go. Just start a money request from your contacts. I’ll pay whatever.”
I hand her phone back and she peers at the screen. “Is Forrest Hawkins your real name or code name?”
A dismissive grunt escapes my lips. “Real. I said I was an escort, not a secret agent.” I would hide my name if I had an open call for services on the web. But all my clients are discreetly obtained through Rina. There’s an unspoken code. Escorts and the clients who hire them keep their business to themselves. None of us want law enforcement poking around. Rina and her ex-husband, Sean, who financially benefits greatly from her side-endeavor, are both revered lawyers, and could talk a judge in circles, defending their legitimate business. However, what me and the guys dooff the books—that Rina most definitely turns a blind eye to—is harder to justify.
“But what you do is illegal, isn’t it? Shouldn’t you be a little more discreet?” Her question hangs in the air between us, heavy with implication. Stepping backward, I hold out my hands for Sora’s. She secures her fingers around mine and leverages my support to hop off the counter. The slight pressure of her hands sends an unexpected shot of nerves through my arms. She hisses when her feet hit the floor. “Oh, gross. Forgot my shoes were off.”
“Shit. Sorry.” I snatch up her shoes and drop to one knee, adorning her feet one by one, like a scene out ofCinderella. She plants her hand on my shoulder to steady herself, while I fasten the straps around her ankles. When I’m finished, she doesn’t letme free. Her hand remains clamped around my shoulder as I rise.
I show her a crooked grin. “Ma’am, you keep touching me, and I’m going to bill you.”
I meant it as a joke to lighten the mood, but her face goes from mesmerized to mortified as she rips her hand from my body with such gusto she falters back. “I wasn’t?—”
“I’m kidding. Geez, you’re really freaked out, aren’t you?” My humorous tone doesn’t match my internal trepidation. I hope she can’t hear my heart pounding against my ribs.See?This shit is my worst fear every time I consider a genuine, non-client interaction with a woman. Once good girls learn my profession, they’re disgusted with me.
“I’m not freaked out,” Sora assures me, even though she’s taken two more paces backward. Her heels click against the tile floor with each step. “I do have questions.”
I hold up my pointer and middle finger in a peace sign before leaning back against the counter. The edge digs hard into my lower back. “You get two questions.”
“Three,” she blurts out. She grins sheepishly when she sees the look I’m giving her. “I’m sorry. I think I’m programmed to argue.”
“Are you studying law?” I ask. Although, I doubt it. I tend to not be attracted to lawyers. The thought of Sora in a courtroom, firing off objections, doesn’t fit the woman standing in front of me.
“No. Although as of tonight, I’m very seriously considering a major career shift. Any suggestions?”
A half-smile hooks my mouth. “Is that one of your questions?”
“Depends. Do I get three?”
I chuckle, the sound ping-ponging off the bathroom walls. “Sure.”
She twists her lips. “Meh, forget the career advice. I have three specific questions in mind.”
“Shoot.” I cross my arms, my dress shirt stretching tight across my shoulders.
“How long have you been a…?” She tugs on her bottom lip with her top teeth. “I mean, been in business?”
I lift my brows at her, amused at her awkward politeness. “You can say escort. I’m not offended.”
Her chest lifts as she draws in a deep breath, then forces it out in a sharp exhale, like she’s hyping herself up to take a plunge in the dark, deep end of a pool. “Okay, then. Official first question: How long have you been an escort, Forrest?”
“Four years. It started a few months after my daughter was born.” Sora’s jaw drops and I roll my eyes in tandem. “I’m going to give you a bonus question for free, so I can clear up the nonsense Iknowis circling your mind. I did not cheat on Dakota’s mom, nor was I an escort at any point in time when we were together. Hannah broke up with me shortly before she gave birth.”
“Really? Why?”
I point at her chest, right at her repaired neckline. “Now, that question will cost you.”
She squints one eye. “Nope. Don’t answer it, then. I have other questions in mind. My next one is kind of embarrassing.”
More embarrassing than being accosted like this about my job?I straighten up, my back cracking slightly, still tension-ridden from hunching over for so long. “I’m not shy. Go ahead.”
“Making the assumption that you’re sleeping with multiple women in a short time frame…how do you stay, um…clean?”
First, the interrogation about “tits.” And now she wants to know about my sexual health? Hm, maybe not a preacher’s daughter after all. I study her face, trying to figure her out.
