11. Riley
eleven
Riley
W ith my feet up on the table and the spinach and mushroom pizza next to me on the couch, the most natural thing in the world to me was to invite a friend over.
The problem with that is I didn’t have many.
Okay, I had none outside of clients and clients don’t count. Jackson is a friend, though. Of that I’m sure. He’s been very transparent that he’d like more, but even if the attraction wasn’t mutual, I’m positive he’d be a good friend to me.
Before I could overthink it, I texted him. There was a very high chance he would be off celebrating tonight. I may have googled the rodeo results already and saw he won another event. Even for a greenhorn like me, that’s a big deal. Racking up points for the season is critical.
But I sent a text, mildly hoping he’d pick up.
Jackson: You made pizza or bought it?
Wiping my hand on the napkin and setting my pizza slice down. I reply not with words but with a photo of the pizza and send it off.
Jackson: You’re killing me. I always miss Avocadabra food when we’re on the road. I can’t believe you sent me a food pic. Tease .
Laughing out loud in my empty condo, I chew and swallow as I send another reply.
Riley: I wasn’t aware you’d enjoy a food pic that much. Next time I’ll send something different.
When Jackson doesn’t reply right away, I start to panic and send another text.
Riley: That was very unprofessional of me. I’m sorry.
Jackson: You don’t need to be professional, Rye. We’re friends. Friends tease each other. This isn’t work.
Right, I can’t use that excuse with him. Good to know that he’s up for teasing, though. I’m not sure if I am or not. The heat burning low in my groin says I am, but I’m shutting that train down now before it jumps the track.
Riley: How come you’re not out celebrating?
Jackson: I’ll go out next time. I wasn’t feeling it tonight. How’s your week been? Make any more cakes yet?
Riley: I did! One more trial of the whole thing and I brought it to my aunt for the official taste. She loved it. Carlos said it’s great too. So I think I’m ready.
Jackson: I know you can do it. You’re amazing.
Riley: So, have you tried speaking to any new hot cowboys yet? Meet anyone you need some advice about?
I cringe after sending the text. It’s not like me to be so intrusive. I shouldn’t have asked that. Part of me wants him to say yes to prove that he’s working on overcoming what he thinks is some sort of social flaw. In reality, it’s what makes Jackson, well, real. The other half of me wants him to say no because I don’t want to hear about who he’s met.
It’s a new kind of fucked up for me to wish for a friend to fail.
Jackson: Cowboys aren’t really my type.
Riley: Okay, some cute buckle bunny then?
Fuck, I need to stop this. It’s not fair to him. Either I let him in, or I don’t, and stop fishing for information. From personal experience, I already know that mind games never end well.
Jackson: Nah. My heart isn’t in it yet.
An enormous weight loosens as I chew on my pizza, elated Jackson isn’t doing what he originally asked me for help with.
Jackson: Can I ask you something?
My heart leaps into my throat and I push my pizza away.
Riley: Of course.
Jackson: Why did you become an escort? You said you loved making men feel good about themselves when you were doing it. But why did you start?
Well, that’s not what I was expecting. While yes, I told him that, I never really revealed the why. Most people fall into sex work out of desperation. They fall on hard times or, sadly, get hooked into the addiction cycle.
I don’t have a sad story to tell about it. I chose it willingly, with eyes wide open. Making huge coin was a draw, but money wasn’t the primary motivator.
Riley: It’s hard to put into a text, but the short answer is because I wanted to belong. To be picked by someone else. Romance wasn’t in the picture yet. I was happy to just be with people.
Jackson: Did you not have people before that?
Riley: Not really. My parents wanted to send me away when I was very young and it’s a lot to tell you in a message. But the escort business made me feel like I was a person to be desired no matter what anyone else told me.
Very few people know about my conservative family and the need to distance themselves from ‘ the gay boy .’ The pretty boy who always seemed to make family gatherings awkward. Aunt Agnes was the only one who ever looked out for me. When I told her about the escort gig, she implored me to stay safe and to do what my heart said.
She never judged me for anything.
The people who hired me also never judged me. They were often seeking validation themselves. Some were men in the closet and didn’t know any other avenue they could take and remain discreet. Others were simply wanting someone to care.
Being an escort made me feel like I wasn’t alone. That people could like me for me. And as corny as it sounds, I could make a difference to the men who also felt untethered and unsure of their place. Sure, Chase fucking exploded my self-esteem, and I developed an awful case of distrust, but I became a real person. I found myself.
Yes, I was paid for it, but they wanted me.
The wetness on my cheeks is new and I brush it away, relieved Jackson can’t see it.
Jackson: Thank you for being honest. You matter to me. I just want you to know that. I already told you how rodeo was something similar for me. All my differentness disappeared when I was in the ring. I wasn’t the kid who had the lowest math score or the kid who never partied. I was the bad-ass steer wrestler winning championships and representing my school. So don’t ever feel like I’d judge you about your former life. When something saves you, you cherish it.
Bloody fucking Christ, why does he say all the right things?
Riley: I appreciate that.
Suddenly emotionally drained, I send him a text that I have an early morning and thank him for the company. Then I power my phone off, which I never do, and toss it on the table.
Until I met Jackson, I never considered myself a complicated person. But here I sit, wondering if maybe I am. I love creating romance for others, but not for me. Escort work was enjoyable. I loved it for the way I could make others feel seen like I never was. It provided a closeness sometimes I couldn’t find in bars.
And in a twist of self-discovery tonight… I was never alone. Sitting here with my pizza and texting Jackson made me realize how much time I now spend by myself, and I don’t like it.
Then I quit escorting when I fell for Chase’s lies because I needed the distance from the one thing that made me happiest. He tainted it. I hated cowboys and rodeo because it was an easy target. Where should I place the hate of having the best thing in my life taken from me if not on the very platform Chase based his lies on?
It certainly made sense to me then.
Walking my pizza to the fridge, I slide it inside and see the bag of baby carrots still sitting that Jackson brought me. Fresh wetness pricks behind my eyes. Over a stupid bag of carrots!
“I’m such a fucking mess.”
But how do I fix this?
The remaining wine in the bottle seems like the best answer. After drinking a half bottle of wine and feeling somewhat mellow, I collapse into bed.
Holding that fucking bag of carrots.
“So, you want me to help with a goat wedding?”
There’s a first for everything, I suppose.
“Yes! See, Gerber was a rescue, and we already had Daisy.”
“It’s a perfect match!” the woman cries with a clap, and I do my best to smile.
The couple laughs together, and I mean, goats are cute, but a wedding?
“I’ll be honest. I have zero knowledge about goats, and I’d be going into this blind.”
“That’s okay. Delilah from the nail salon said you were amazing at arranging the bachelor party for her nephew. That’s the one who wanted strippers, and you had them all dressed as rodeo men like that Down Under show.” She fans herself and my eyes dart to the man, who still grins like a fool. “Then they all left lipstick marks on his cheek and took pictures for the fiancée. She loved it.”
Delilah’s nephew was openly bisexual and married a straight woman who was the loveliest person I’d ever met. She knew he had a thing for cowboys, and it was her idea for him to have this huge erotic party, and I have to admit I was jealous of that one. I saw the strippers, and they needed firemen nearby. They were that hot.
A goat wedding is not the type of referral I’d expect to get from a bachelor party, but goat matrimony money is still money.
“Tell me what your vision is, then. ”
The couple launches into their idea of a barnyard ceremony in the pumpkin patch this fall. The goats love pumpkins, so they want to let them loose to eat or smash them after they say I do… or whatever a goat would say.
I scribble notes as they speak and, as odd as it is, ideas come to mind, and I write them down as they do.
“And we need you to find us goat tuxedos. We had pyjamas lined up, but they look terrible.”
“Ah, okay, and do you have measurements?”
The woman opens her purse and slides a worn recipe card over.
“Gerber needs the tux and Daisy needs a dress that will stay on.”
“Or a pantsuit,” the husband supplies. “We don’t need gender conformities unless we have to.”
“Of course not. I just want to be upfront that my fees are the same as if this was a human event before we go any further.”
“Of course it is. They’re our babies and just like humans, so we treat them like that.”
“Okay. I’ll email you a contract and spend some time putting a cost list together. We can review and go from there.”
“Thank you so much, Riley! I’m looking forward to it.”
After the couple leaves, I fill in my standard contract with the details I already know. Then I look into seamstresses who can sew animal clothing and what do you know? I have one on my contact list, which was better than I expected.
When my phone rings and I see my aunt’s name on the screen, I immediately reach for it, shocked at how much time has passed.
“Auntie, I’m so sorry. I lost track of time. I’m still coming over.”
“Is everything okay, Riley? It’s not like you to not call. I was worried. ”
“Yeah, it’s…I’ll tell you when I get there? What do you want to eat tonight?”
“I’ve already started the sauce for my lasagna. Just bring your sweet smile and laughter. Oh, and your wallet. I’m whipping your ass in scrabble tonight.”
Snorting a laugh, I save my work and sign out of my laptop before shoving it in my bag to take home.
“I’ll be there in half an hour, and I have a whole jar of coins for you, woman.”
“Bills, Riley. Leave the kiddie coin at home.”
Smiling bigger than I have in days, I end the call with my aunt and head over to her place, hoping like hell that I draw some good letters tonight.
“Ha!” Aunt Agnes finishes placing her letters and sends a smug smile my way.
“Dick? You’re happy you made the word dick?”
Shaking my head and reaching for my wine, I can’t stop the laugh from bubbling out.
“I’m perfectly pleased with myself. Especially to draw that kind of laugh from you.” She leans back in her chair and swirls the rest of her glass of wine. One glass on game nights is what she allows herself. Since she loves it, I don’t nag her over it. Alcohol is one thing she shouldn’t have with her meds, but as she likes to say, don’t steal all the fun from me.
I have to admit the laugh felt good. Enough that I need to get something off my chest with her.
“Auntie…I think I made a mistake.”
“Is it like the time you shaved your eyebrows off? Or is it more like when you shopped online while high and then had a living room full of toy cars because you thought they were real and too much of a bargain to turn down?”
“That was one time!” I laugh again at the memory before finally pushing aside my insecurities and laying it out for my aunt.
“There’s this guy—”
She leans forward, interrupting. “I’ve been waiting so long for this! Tell me about him.” My aunt shakes her head. “Wait. A mistake with a guy? That’s not what I’ve been waiting for at all. What happened?”
“I met him at the park. It was kind of blind and very romantic. We met and had lunch, and I liked him. We just had this sort of instant connection, and I was excited to get to know him.”
“That sounds so fairy tale. Meeting in a park must have been nice. Then what happened?”
“Well, turns out he’s a cowboy…and wanted to be a client.”
Aunt Agnes knows very well my issues with cowboys since Chase and she frowns.
“What kind of client? Are you escorting again?”
“No. Nothing like that. He wanted to hire me to help him with his social awkwardness around men he’s attracted to. I didn’t know his name until he showed up in my office.” My thoughts flash to the look on Jackson’s face when he entered my office. His shock morphed to happiness to see me while I went from shocked to an immediate asshole because of the hat in his hand.
“So, what did you do?”
With a wry laugh, I drain my wine glass. “Well,” I begin as I reach for the bottle and refill the glass. “First, I was a bit of an asshole. Then he was kind and forgiving. Then I debated internally about what to do.” With my glass now full, I take a long swallow. “Then I accepted his offer of a date, but only as a friend because I couldn’t say no.”
“Oh, Riley. Why didn’t you just go out with him for real? Not everyone is like Chase, sweetheart. I know a lot of good men in this town who are cowboys.”
“That’s the million-dollar question. We’ve had two non-dates or whatever, and we’ve texted and called each other while he’s on the road with rodeos. He’s not Chase. I know that, but…it’s really difficult to convince myself it’s okay to ask for more.”
“Is he still interested in you?”
Snorting, I run a hand down my face. “Yeah. He’s…awkward but not subtle. He very much would like to be more than friends.”
“I’m so confused, sweetheart. What’s the mistake then? Sounds like you made the friends only condition to keep your heart safe. Which isn’t wrong, but you’re fighting yourself on it. Why?”
A question I’ve rolled over far too many times in the past few weeks.
“The mistake is I like him. A lot. But I don’t know if I can handle his lifestyle. He’s away so much for rodeo. He wants to build a business. And what if he is just like Chase?” Swallowing hard, I look at my aunt’s concerned face. “I’m afraid he’ll hurt me, and I can’t go through that again. ”
Gabe had messaged me this week to update me on my testimony for Chase’s alibi. I can do it by a video conference at the local courthouse. But the whole thing is yet another stressor on my plate. I’m working on moving on, but until this thing with Chase is finished, it’s holding me back. More than I care to admit.
“But if you don’t take a risk, Riley, you’ll never know. Nor will you be happy.”
She reaches over to squeeze my hand and I squeeze back, grateful for her support as always.
“I know. It’s just…he makes me want to let him in. He really does. But then I don’t and he’s so understanding. I don’t want him to give up on me, but I’m also sort of wanting him to.”
My aunt laughs, but in a kind way as she pats my hand and sits back.
“Hearts lead us astray. But hearts also lead us home. I don’t have any advice for you except to not miss an opportunity because you’re afraid. Be brave, Riley.”
I really want to. But I can’t survive another broken heart. Jackson wouldn’t just break me, he’d shatter me forever.
Aunt Agnes sips her wine and studies her remaining scrabble tiles.
“If we end the game now, I win with dick.”
Sputtering around my wine, I laugh out loud.
“Everybody does, Auntie. Everybody does. Let me get my wallet.”