13. Kate
KATE
I woke with a jolt as the sun streamed in.
“I have to go,” I said, scrambling out of bed to make my meeting.
“See you tonight, Ms. Williams. I’ll send your assignment later,” Jake said, all raspy and sleepy-sexy.
I brushed my teeth, and he fell back to sleep quickly. On my way out of the bathroom, I sneaked one last look at him in bed, the sheets sliding low on his hips. When I’d left the bedroom, he must have shifted because they’d slunk down farther, showing off the curve of his ass.
“More,” I murmured, as if I were devouring a piece of delicious cake.
Because that was quite possibly the sexiest sight ever—Jake sleeping soundly with his gorgeous carved back and ass on display.
As I left, I sent him a text.
Kate: Fine. I’ll admit it. Your ass is spectacular. I snagged a lovely view of it on my way out. It’s hard and firm, and I just wanted to bite it.
Then I pushed thoughts of him away as I headed home, showered, and made it to my meeting in the nick of time.
I’d done plenty of background interviews as part of my job. But none had ever been with someone this good-looking.
Or this interesting.
I found Antony fascinating as I questioned him over coffee about his decision to enter this business.
His brow pulled, and he hummed thoughtfully.
“Was it a hard decision to become an escort?” he asked, repeating my question, then he shook his head.
“Not at all. I’ve always enjoyed the company of women.
Women are fascinating, sensitive, easy to talk to.
Sure, at first I was drawn to it with the endgame in mind. ”
“Your master’s degree?” I confirmed as I took a sip of my English breakfast tea.
“Yes, and graduate school is not cheap. So I had to make a choice—take out loans or earn enough on my own. But it wasn’t a difficult choice.
I meet women from all walks of life, with all sorts of personalities, wishes, aspirations.
Every woman I meet, I learn something from—humor, kindness, a new word or phrase, a type of cuisine, an approach to the world.
I’m lucky to be able to do this for a living. ”
“You’re like a therapist, lover, friend, and companion,” I said.
“Indeed. In many ways, I am. I get to wear many hats. And take off many hats,” he said with a wink.
“You enjoy it.”
“I do.”
“It almost sounds like you might want to keep this job after you finish your engineering degree,” I said with a curious smile. “Do you?”
He shrugged happily. “I might, but that could be challenging. We’ll see.”
“With an aerospace degree, are you hoping to be an astronaut?”
He laughed lightly, like that was an impossible dream. “No. But I would like to build rockets. And this helps make it happen.” He flashed a winning smile, the kind of grin that melted panties and made women drop a cool grand for a night with him.
And that was what the bride had paid for her maid of honor, Sidney, to get lucky. It was an odd realization, sitting across from this GQ -esque man, knowing who he’d slept with the other night.
I briefly wondered if Sidney got everything she needed from him. I hoped so. You go, girl—more power to you.
I cleared my throat, preparing to segue into the main reason for this get-together. He’d talked about being an escort, but I needed to understand more of his mindset while on the job.
“This may be personal,” I said, running my finger along the rim of my mug, “but Trish said you’d be willing to talk about it, and I’d like some insight to plan how to best market the service. Does it feel like work? And how do you make a woman feel special? Or whatever it is she wants you to do?”
He hummed, like he was considering the question, then leaned forward. “Forgive me if I am too forward. But have you ever been with someone who made you feel spectacular?”
A blush crept across my cheeks in seconds.
I heated up thinking of last night, of the things Jake and I had shared.
Not only the otherworldly sex, but the conversation and then the cuddling.
Who knew Jake was a cuddler? But he was—the best kind.
All warm and snuggly, spooning me perfectly, brushing gentle kisses against my neck.
But I couldn’t entertain those notions. I had to focus on work, since that was what this weekend was about.
Everything I was doing was for work.
Only for work.
And work included Antony’s piercing question. Had I ever been with someone who made me feel spectacular?
“Yes, I have,” I answered.
He smiled. “Good. Everyone should know what it’s like to feel amazing. And that’s what I want to do for the women who are kind enough to hire me.”
Kind.
Such an unusual word to use in this field.
“Why do you want them to feel that way?” I asked.
His dark eyes were intense, passionate as he answered. “Because when they book me, they believe I can bring them what they want for a night. That I can deliver companionship, pleasure, friendship, a shoulder to lean on.”
“Admirable goals.” For a brief moment, I let myself linger on how that might feel.
The past few months, I’d been so nose to the grindstone, so focused on my endgame, that I’d deliberately avoided intimate companionship and the friendship that could come with it.
But hearing those words from this man, whose job was to deliver them, made me crave those things just a bit.
Companionship, pleasure, friendship.
That didn’t sound so bad at all.
Maybe someday.
“You might call them admirable, but those are basic human needs, as I see it. And when a woman requests me, I have the chance to give that to her. That’s an honor, and I don’t take it lightly. I want every woman to feel spectacular.”
I let that marinate for a moment as the espresso machines whirred behind us. “Every woman should feel spectacular,” I said, trying that on for size. It might work as a slogan.
His eyes twinkled. “Yes. Exactly. That’s my mantra. I want the women I’m with to feel like sexy angels.”
“Do you make them feel that way?”
He nodded. “I believe so.”
“Do they all want sex?”
He shook his head. “Less than half, actually. There was a client this week who simply wanted someone to talk to. That’s what I gave her. I listened, and she was worth it. She had a lot on her mind and heart.”
I wondered if that was Sidney, but it wasn’t my business to ask.
Antony and I spoke for a bit longer, and I thanked him when we finished and then watched as he left, admiring his frame, his physique, and his kindness.
Funny, how you didn’t think of kindness as a quality you’d look for in an escort, but it was vital, it turned out.
Maybe that was because it was vital in any relationship.
Kindness ought to be the foundation of anything. Of everything.
I noodled on that as I walked to my office. Along the way, my phone buzzed. I grabbed it, hoping Jake was awake.
Jake: Confession: I posed like that this morning just to get you to admit the truth.
Kate: Shameless. You are shameless.
Jake: Kidding. I was deep in the land of nod and just woke up finally. Good to know you enjoyed the view. I enjoyed all my views last night. But let’s talk about tonight, Ms. Williams. I’m taking you out to dinner. I made a reservation at Momofuku, your favorite. See you at seven thirty.
I stopped walking, my heart speeding up, my smile spreading before I caught myself.
What the hell?
What was this reaction? He was suggesting a restaurant. It was one evening out.
But, no, it was a little more than that. It was how he’d heard me when I said Momofuku was my favorite.
Perhaps he’d heard me, too, when I said I liked romance.
Except our arrangement wasn’t about romance. I reminded myself of that all day long as I worked. As I played with taglines and marketing slogans. As I prepped for my Sunday lunch with Trish.
Again and again, I told myself.
Even though tonight’s meetup with Jake bore all the hallmarks of romance, it was not.
I needed to recalibrate to sex-only.
In the early evening, with that in mind, I sent him a message.
Kate: What is the scenario tonight?
Jake: No scenario at dinner. But once I pay the check, we’re strangers who just met.
A burst of anticipation zipped through me as I read his text while walking into my kitchen. I stopped at the counter, setting a hand down and collecting myself.
But from what? From the idea of dinner or the thought of the games?
Or both?
I didn’t know. In one swift move, Jake had changed the rules.
We weren’t merely role-playing.
We weren’t experimenting for the sake of work research.
He was taking me on a date.
And he wasn’t taking no for an answer.
I didn’t want to say no either.
I wanted to say yes to both.
Dating hadn’t been on the weekend’s agenda, but it seemed like that had changed.
I had no idea what that meant.
The not-knowing thrilled the part of me that longed for romance, a side I’d denied for some time now.
But tonight, Romantic Kate would get a chance to play.
Standing in front of my clothes, I asked the age-old question that women have asked closets for generations. “What should I wear tonight?”
As I perused a few black dresses, a couple of pretty scoop-neck tops, and some short-sleeve blouses, I only briefly considered what Jake would like to see me in.
The thought didn’t last long, and then I let it go.
That was oddly freeing—a welcome change from anxious guesses about what my date would find attractive.
But why?
As I ran my fingers down a purple top that dared to reveal just enough cleavage, I found the answer.
I wasn’t dressing to impress a man.
And that wasn’t because I didn’t want to impress the man.
I did. God, did I want to impress him.
Only, I knew this man was interested in the full package—by how I felt in what I wore.
Jake wasn’t the sort to be turned on by certain looks or styles. He was the kind of man turned on by the whole woman.
And that was a wildly freeing thought. A seductive one too.
Which made it incredibly dangerous as well.
But as I pulled on my favorite jeans, a sexy pair of strappy silver heels, and the purple top, I was craving the danger.
Craving the man.
Craving the whole night.
I touched up my blush and mascara, and my phone trilled—a FaceTime call. When I saw the dual images, I slid my thumb across the screen to answer the group call.
“It’s Peaches and Cream. It’s Frick and Frack. It’s Salt and Pepper,” I said to my friends, calling me from their separate phones but patched together.
Lily arched a brow, and Nina stuck out her tongue. “Thanks so much. Glad to know you see us as twinsies,” Lily said.
I shrugged saucily. “Well, you are calling me in tandem. And you’re both in yoga pants and sports bras.”
Nina rolled her eyes. “Because we’re at the gym. I’m on the StairMaster, and Lily’s on the elliptical one row over. And we’re calling you because we like you. Or used to, I should say.”
I puckered my lips and blew a kiss at them. “You still like me. You love me. Admit it.”
“Fine, fine. We love you. Which is why we wanted to invite you out for coffee,” Lily offered as her arms swept back and forth. Her phone must have been positioned on the dashboard of the machine.
“I do love coffee, but alas, I can’t make it tonight.”
Lily brought her face right up to the screen. “My reporter radar says you have a date.”
Nina’s eyes gleamed, her hair bouncing as she stepped up and up and up. “You told us we weren’t allowed to set you up, and now you have a date. I’m pretty sure this means you don’t love us at all.”
I gulped.
Oops.
They’d both been pushing me toward Jake whenever they were given a chance. I didn’t know if I wanted to tell them about this arrangement we had for the weekend. Being my best friends, they’d likely try to turn it into something more.
For a fleeting second, I wished they could.
I wished they could wave a magic wand and make it . . . something .
That wasn’t in the cards.
But neither was lying to my friends.
I drew a breath, squared my shoulders, and spoke the truth. “It’s not a date. I’m just having dinner with Jake.”
Nina’s face disappeared from the screen.
“What just happened?” I asked, nervous.
Lily waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry. She just fell off the StairMaster. She’ll be on the YouTube channel for Epic Gym Fumbles tonight.”
I stared at my friend. “Seriously? Is she okay?”
Nina popped back up. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” she said, pretending to be breathless. Then she whispered, “Just playing around. I didn’t really fall. But now tell us stuff. Tell us about your just dinner .”
“I swear it’s just dinner.”
As if they’d been practicing synchronized guffaws, the two of them scoffed in unison.
“Sure,” Lily said.
“Right,” Nina agreed.
“Guys, I mean it. He’s helping me out with some work stuff. It’s not a date,” I said, then glanced at the time. “But I do have to go.”
I headed to The Cosmopolitan, taking the escalator past The Chandelier bar, enrobed in its sheets of gorgeous crystals. As I got closer, my stomach flipped and my chest fluttered.
This felt like a date.
This felt like romance .
Anticipation sent sparks over my skin.
When I found Jake waiting at the restaurant bar, I paused to take in the cut of his jaw as he lifted his highball glass, to watch his Adam’s apple bob as he knocked back a swallow. He said something to the bartender, who laughed, and I wondered what amusing thing he’d said.
My skin heated up as I watched him.
But so did my heart.
It beat faster and faster.
Insistently.
This weekend was not about companionship, pleasure, or friendship—not the paid kind, and not the kind that came in a relationship.
This weekend was about work and wallets and knowledge.
Feelings had no place in these forty-eight hours, which were more than half over.
I’d have to crush this bloom of emotion in my chest.
Jake and I were an arrangement, nothing more. And our arrangement ended after tonight.