18. Hailee
Chapter eighteen
Hailee
“G ood morning, Portia,” I greet as I step into the pristine white marble foyer on the fortieth floor of the Hayes what I’m about to do goes against everything I stand for. What felt like a good idea at the time now stabs at my conscience, and I just know this will become one of the worst decisions I’ll ever make.
Feeling like a piece of shit, I access his hard drive and scan through the files.
How the hell am I meant to find something I can use before he comes back?
If I had a couple of hours to properly look through it, I could probably find something of value to send Mark. But time is not on my side; I have at the most another minute before he comes back. And the last thing I need is to be caught with my hand in the proverbial cookie jar. There’s no way I’d be able to explain it to him.
Realizing the futility of my efforts, I exit the drive. Instead, I turn my attention to his calendar, my fingers trembling as I scroll through his upcoming meetings. Finally I find one that stands out. I take out my phone and capture a snapshot of the meeting invite, with the attached agenda and the invite list. I quickly close the calendar, return his screen to sleep mode, and throw my phone back into my purse.
Not even thirty seconds later, Dameon waltzes through the door, his dimples popping as he graces me with one of his charming smiles.
“Where were we?” He lifts me up and settles into his chair, depositing me back on his lap with ease.
Angry tears well in my eyes as a ball of conflicting emotions churns within me. I lean forward, burying my face into the comforting curve of his neck. His familiar scent envelops me, momentarily calming the storm of guilt and shame raging inside. I feel like utter scum—less than scum. The guilt claws its way up my throat like a creature trying to escape hell, but I force it back down, burying it deep within me where it belongs. A quiet sob escapes me; there’s no escaping the consequences of what I’ve done, and the realization leaves me racked with dread.
“Hey,” he murmurs softly, pulling back slightly and lifting my chin with the crook of his finger. His touch is soothing as runs his thumbs under my eyes, catching my traitorous tears. “What’s wrong, goddess?”
I stutter, at a loss for words, the truth threatening to spill from my lips. But then I remember why I made that deal with Mark. For Beth. Our insurance policy. And at the end of the day, I’m a lot more scared of the consequences of refusing my stepfather’s demands than Dameon’s.
“I wanted to talk to you about something,” I eventually manage to get out.
“Of course, what is it?” His frown deepens at my distress.
“I’m going crazy at your place, just waiting for you to come home,” I admit, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I need something to do, something to occupy my time. I’m not used to having nothing to do all day.” While it may be a cover, it’s not a complete lie either.
“Okay, what do you want to do then?”
“I want to go back to Eden,” I reply, meeting his gaze steadily. “Not working Le Jardin, just doing admin during the day… what I was doing before.” Every Saturday night, Eden hosts Le Jardin, where members select a goddess to spend the evening with in private. I would never expect him to agree to that.
“Are you sure? You have the time and means to do anything your heart desires. You could go back to working in accounting, or I know for a fact that charities are always looking for help in their treasury departments. You could even go back to school and study something entirely new. The world is your oyster.”
“Are you ashamed that I work at Eden?”
“No! Of course not.” He shakes his head. “Did you forget I have a membership? It would be hypocritical of me to judge you for working there. What I’m saying is, you can do anything you put your mind to, and you now have the freedom and flexibility to choose. So, what is it that you want?”
I honestly can’t remember the last time someone asked me what I want. In fact, come to think of it, I’m not even sure if anyone ever has. My eyes well up again at how kind and thoughtful he is after what I’ve just done. But I hold back the heavy tears of remorse.
While I don’t see myself working at Eden forever, for now, it’s comfortable and convenient. Having the freedom to come and go as I please is particularly important to me, especially this year while I’m working for Dameon. It’s also essential for me to be able to drop everything at a moment’s notice when a donor heart becomes available for Beth.
Embarking on a new career seems pointless at this moment. But who knows what the future will hold? I can’t help but feel a flicker of excitement at the endless possibilities that await me after my contract with Dameon is over. I’ve always believed in the power of therapy—perhaps there’s a way for me to support other sex workers. Being an escort wasn’t exactly a childhood dream of mine, something I aspired to as a little girl. It was a temporary means to provide the best life possible for Beth and myself in a new country. I don’t regret it. It is what it is. And I enjoy it. In fact, I find immense gratification in providing pleasure to my clients and fulfilling their desires.
As I think about the end of the year, my stomach flutters. On one hand, I look forward to Beth receiving her new heart and starting the next chapter of her life as she prepares for her final year in high school. It’s a milestone that fills me with hope for her bright future ahead. Yet alongside this hope, there’s a twinge of sadness knowing that Dameon and I will part ways. The thought of saying goodbye to him is gut-wrenching.
“For now, I just want to work at Eden,” I tell him.
“Then Eden it is. They’ll be lucky to have you back,” he declares.
“Thank you,” I murmur, touched by his encouragement.
“You’re welcome, gorgeous. There’s no need to cry,” he reassures me softly, his lips brushing against my eyelids in a gentle kiss. I melt into a puddle on his lap. He couldn’t be more perfect if he tried, and I don’t deserve any of it—his kindness or thoughtfulness. I’ve never felt so low and conflicted as I do now.
I sigh.
I want him… and I can’t have him.