I told her.
Leila looked dumbstruck for a moment. ‘Thorne’s really got you pegged. I didn’t think men ever had that kind of insight.’
‘Thanks, pal.’
‘OK, your ego and your body took a beating. I’m sorry that happened to you.’
‘He started giving me a lot of BS about how great he was at reading strengths and weaknesses in people.’
‘You’re right to be furious, but he was trying to tell you something.’
‘Yes, that he’s an arrogant bastard, and if I want him to fuck me I have to dangle from his finger until he decides to throw me away.’
‘He doesn’t want you to disappear on him. Look, it must have been just as hard for him to stop.’
‘He probably went straight down to the Barbie doll on the eighth floor.’
‘Did you bother to read any of that information I gathered about him?’
‘No.’
‘Read it. You have relationship issues with men. He has the same issues in reverse.’
‘I don’t give a damn what he has, and I don’t understand why you keep pushing him on me.’
‘Because it’s the first time in the three years I’ve spent more than eight hours a day, five times a week with you that a man has gotten under your skin. I thought something might come of it.’
‘No way.’
‘Did you notice the two of you have the exact same colour eyes?’
‘And that makes us a match made in heaven?’
Leila gave me one of her enigmatic smiles. ‘Maybe. All right. I’ll get serious. He’s going to come knocking again. Can you walk away, forget about him?’
‘Already done or will be done the minute I get over being angry. Your turn now.’
‘Let me talk about Close Encounters first.’
‘No, Melissa first.’ I wanted to hear her bad news. Commiserate with her.
‘We have a situation.’
A situation meant a prospective client needed reassurance before taking the plunge. Someone would e-mail with questions. ‘What if I don’t like the guy I picked? Do I still have to pay the three-hour minimum?’ Or ‘what if he’s older /fatter/ shorter than his picture?’ which told us she’d been burned on the dating sites. Sometimes a woman asked if it was possible to talk to someone by phone or e-mail. On rare occasions, they wanted to meet face to face. Leila thought I was crazy when I accepted, but something about their insecurity made me want to reassure them. I hadn’t started Close Encounters to make money, but to give women a chance to have fun the way men have fun. Getting a charge by doing the choosing and paying for it, or because fun wasn’t happening in their lives. Whatever profit the company made I sent to organisations that helped women in Third World countries.
‘What’s the situation?’
‘She wants to know what she’ll get for her money.’
‘Tell her she’s paying for a fun evening out on the town. What happens at the end of the evening is up to her and the guy she picked.’
‘I think she wants guarantees.’
I didn’t blame her. I’d thought I had guaranteed sex last night. Free sex. And here she was ready to pay for hers. ‘If I give her guarantees I can end up in jail. If she’s too naïve to know that, maybe we should lose her.’
‘She calls herself Anastasia.’
‘I bet most of the girls being born these days will get that name.’ That trilogy had whetted a lot of suppressed appetites and Close Encounters had seen a nice upswing in bookings.
Leila punched a button on her laptop. The printer in the corner started churning. I glanced at the Google printout on Thorne that Leila had given me. Maybe I should take a look. What possible issues could a man of his looks and wealth have with women?
‘I’m not sure about losing her,’ Leila said. ‘She’s not your usual client. I think you should read what she wrote. You’re the one with a bleeding heart, so you decide.’ She picked up the printed sheet and dropped it on my desk.
Hi, I’m really excited I found your website. I mean, who knew I could pick a gorgeous guy to go out with, but I don’t know how it all works out. I mean, what happens? We go out for drinks, or dinner and then what? Is love part of the package? Can I talk to someone? In person. Please? This really means a lot to me. Anastasia
‘Love? She sounds very young. A dreamer.’ I’d been a dreamer once. I kept it up even after my father walked out of my life. It was Mom’s death that had wiped dreaming for love out of my system.
‘An insecure dreamer,’ Leila said. The coffee maker beeped. Leila filled our mugs, handed one over to me. ‘With low self esteem. That usually gets to you.’
‘Thanks. You’re right.’ I picked up the laptop, clicked into Anastasia’s e-mail. Hit reply.
Hi. We are happy you liked our website. We unfortunately aren’t able to meet with you, but we can set up a meeting with a good client, who should be able to answer your questions. Would you like that? If so let us know when you’re available.
The Close Encounters Team
Leila gave me a questioning look. ‘You playing client and not boss is a first.’
‘Just a precaution. A client can disappear. Now tell me about Melissa.’
Before Leila could start, the office phone rang. I picked up without looking at caller ID. ‘Desire, Inc.’
‘When can I see you?’ His low, gravelly voice cut right into me, leaving me wanting him instantly. I hung up. In the silence that followed, I felt lost. Deprived. I shook my head, shrugged, trying to get some sense back into my head. Into my body.
Leila mumbled something and left the room.
It didn’t take me long to call him back. His cellphone number was imprinted on my brain.
‘When?’
‘How can you even ask after last night?’
‘Because just thinking of you gives me a hard-on.’ He was holding his cell so close to his mouth, it felt as though he were whispering directly in my ear. ‘Because I want to hold your ass against my face and bite it until there’s nothing left. Because I want to stick my tongue between your cheeks and lick you.’
He was making me wet.
‘Because I want to suck your nipples off. Because you have a deliciously wet cunt I want to split open. Because I want to hear you beg for me to ram it home. Is that enough reasons for you?’
I slipped my hand under my skirt and panties and squeezed hard to stop myself wanting him inside me. ‘You had your chance last night and you blew it.’
‘Did I, Nicole? Didn’t I just up the ante?’ I heard the sound of a zipper sliding open. He must have lowered the phone to his crotch.
‘Damn you, Thorne. Get out of my life.’ I didn’t hang up, just listened to his breath getting heavier. Leila might walk back in any second. I didn’t care. I needed to stay connected to Thorne.
‘Talk to me, Nicole.’ His voice was thick with lust. ‘Just talk. Anything. Your voice will do it.’
‘What do you want me to say? I can’t get you out of my head? My body aches for your hands? I want your lips on my lips, your tongue inside my mouth, inside my cunt.’ My own breath was coming fast. ‘I think of you and my hands reach between my legs.’ My words mirrored my actions. ‘I stroke and pinch myself. I stick my fingers