Page 48 of High Class

When we’ve cleaned up in the shower, he invites me to lie on the bed with him again and we snuggle. His fingers trail up my arm and he asks the question I’m never sure how to answer.

“Where do you imagine yourself when you’ve finally achieved your dreams?”

“I think the notion of achieving a goal or a dream is too limiting,” I finally say. “Life is a journey and I’m happy to go where it takes me. That doesn’t mean I don’t have aspirations or things I work for. I just try not to get caught up in the idea that there’s this one thing that will make my life perfect. That’s a fanciful dream that I can’t really afford.”

He smiles. “Well, I want to see my brother take over for my father and cut me off. I’m ready for the day when I never have to worry about being called back to New York again. Unfortunately, I may be an old man before that happens. Jamie is in excellent health.”

“And he’s so young to have two adult children.”

Luke turns to face me. “It’s true. He and my mother were married young at the insistence of their parents to solidify a union between the two families. I think she was barely sixteen. Had my older brother at seventeen and me at nineteen. My dad was eighteen I think, when they married.”

“Wow, that is young. Do you want children?” Why would I ask that? I’m an idiot. He’s going to think I want kids with him.

He shrugs. “Right now, it seems like a terrible thing to bring a child into my world. But I’m not against the idea. My limo business is completely legitimate. I’ve worked hard to keep it that way. And the others respect that for the most part.”

We spend the better part of an hour just talking and I find the conversation flows easier than it has since he first took me out of that nightclub in New York.

“It’s strange that we’ve only known each other for a couple days,” I say as I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling.

He rolls toward me and catches a nipple in his mouth. “It’s not strange. Sometimes two people just connect. Sure, we’ve connected in an unconventional way, but here we are, enjoying each other’s company. Now, tell me how you came to be who you are.”

“You mean an escort?”

He nods. “I’m curious.”

“And you won’t fly into a jealous rage when I tell you I did this because I wanted to?”

He smirks. “I can’t promise not to get jealous, but I am genuinely curious. And I already knew you chose this, remember? I’m interested in the details.”

I sigh. “Truthfully, I grew up in a nice family. We went to church every Sunday and my mom ran a daycare for the church five days a week. I used to help her out with that. It was my first real job. But something just never sat right with me about religion, you know? Everything felt false and there were a lot of rules that made little sense to me. My sister thrived on it and wanted to devote her life to the church. Me, not so much. When it came time to apply for colleges, I went for something as far away as I could get. I started by applying to schools in London near my father—divorced parents—and then I even applied to some of the big schools on the east coast. I had great grades, and it was easy to get in pretty much wherever I wanted to go.”

The rest of the story gets a little more difficult. But I want to tell it to Luke.

“I ended up at UCLA. Not as far from home as I wanted, but far enough that I wasn’t under my mother’s rules. My second semester there I was approached by a woman asking if I wanted to make a thousand dollars for a twenty-minute coffee date. I was… confused but intrigued, so I asked a few questions. Maybe not enough, but questions just the same. She assured me that the date didn’t have to go any further than coffee, but she needed someone quickly because the original girl had fallen through. By this point I had deduced that she was a madame. And it didn’t offend me. Not like it should have given my upbringing. I needed money because my dad ran into financial troubles about that time and couldn’t keep paying for school and my mom flat out refused because I didn’t choose to go to UNLV and attend the local church.”

I roll onto my stomach and put my chin on my arms. “That first date was fun. And he offered me another two grand to accompany him to an event and spend the night with him. It was exhilarating and fun and I had several more dates with him before I ever took my second client. When I told the woman I was going to New York for the summer with my grandparents, she put me in touch with Renda and she booked me a client in New York. By then I was pulling in an easy five figures a month and no longer had to worry about tuition or taking out student loans.”

That was the gist of it. There is a lot more to the story, but I don’t want to tell him everything right away. So, I smile and wave my hand around the room. “And now, here I am.”

He smiles. “At least you weren’t forced into it. I always hate that shit. It burns me up when my family talks about running girls. I’ve always talked them out of it, but they listen to me less and less the longer I’m away from New York.”

That’s a relief to hear that he’s tried to stop it. “I always worry about criminal types and whether they’re involved in human trafficking. And I’ve done my very best to keep my business as legitimate as possible. I have to be careful when I’m vetting clients to make sure they aren’t trying to get me wrapped up in something like that.”

HIs fingers skate down my back and I sigh with contentment. “I assume there’s more to the Renda story, then?”

I nod. “Yeah. I’d rather not talk about it, if that’s OK.”

“We’re looking into how she’s involved. Just so you know.”

“Of course you are. I would expect nothing less. Will you hurt her?”

“I try never to hurt a woman. I try not to hurt anyone. But I’m not there and I can’t speak for my family. They’re a little more prone to violence than I am. I’m sure you’ve picked up on that.”

“True, but to be honest you’re the only one I know who has ever shot someone in the head.”

He laughs. “Fair. But I’ve seen Jamie and Oliver both do worse than that. A shot to the head is merciful.”

I grimace at the thought of that. I don’t enjoy living in a world where a bullet to the head is considered an act of mercy.

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