Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
Jasmine
A fter Felix’s party, work became something less than work and more of an enjoyable activity I looked forward to, which was a refreshing change for me. As the weeks passed with Eric as my sole client, we fell into a comfortable routine of attending the events on his calendar and me accompanying him to business dinners as his date, which inevitably ended back at his place to work off the sexual tension that always burned bright between us when we were together.
Sex with Eric was the best I’d ever had, always leaving me beyond sated. And much to my shock and delight, as our arrangement evolved, Eric surprised me with his personality, his likes and dislikes. Which, honestly, was a feat in and of itself.
Six years into this business I’d become a bit jaded, and it was nearly impossible to be surprised by anything anymore. When it came to this line of work, most men assumed that they were giving you an experience that no one ever had before. Tasting fancy wines, trying on pretty clothes, going to high-end bars, casinos, strip clubs—all of it, contextualized with that damnable phrase of “I’ll bet you’ve never done something like this before”.
My time with Eric was so different. He never felt the need to show off his wealth, or overtly impress me. Our relationship evolved in a way that I saw a completely different side to the man than the uptight one I’d originally met at the Spinel Fine Arts Exhibit and Gallery a few months ago. Someone with a lighter side. Someone with a wicked sense of humor at times, yet so much heart when it came to helping struggling artists gain their footing in the industry.
I discovered little quirks about Eric, such as how he liked to pick up mushroom Swiss burgers from a locally owned hole in the wall burger joint that wasn’t located in the heart of Coral Gables, but along its outskirts where the normal, middle-income people lived. He liked it dripping in that unbelievable honey mustard sauce that they drizzled over it, with a side of what they called ‘Holier-Than-Thou’ fries, which were topped in a melted blend of every kind of cheese imaginable, chopped French onions, and bacon.
It was learning that not only did he like jazz, which at this point was a common staple for well-off men who needed to appear cultured, but he had a selection of heavy metal records in his apartment, and a record player, and when he worked late nights he liked to put one on—low, of course, to not interrupt the work flow—and let the music rather than a cup of coffee or a glass of whiskey get him through the hours of paperwork he needed to peruse.
The weeks with Eric went by incredibly fast, then a month, and another. Despite my initial hesitation toward him, I couldn’t deny the strong chemistry between us. More so than I’d felt with any other man. It was a good working chemistry—personalities melding well, our sexual energies perfectly matched and through the roof.
I decided I would have to get Dominique something special to thank her for putting Eric in my path, I thought with a smile as I was getting ready for a dinner with him and a benefactor. He was supposed to be solidifying plans to fund an expansion at the gallery where we’d met, and I secretly loved that he shared those aspects of his business with me. And even sought my opinion on things, like what I had to contribute mattered to him.
I was nearly done with my hair when my phone rang. It was Eric, and my heart skipped a beat and butterflies fluttered in my stomach. Not necessary a good thing when it came to a client. A part of me recognized that my emotions were getting involved, and I did my best to tamp down my reaction so I didn’t sound so breathless with anticipation when I picked up his call.
I connected the line and kept my voice neutral. “Hello?”
“Jasmine,” he said, sounding a bit haggard, along with a strange waver in his deep, usually smooth voice. “I apologize for calling on such short notice. I’m going to have to cancel tonight’s dinner.”
“Okay,” I said, concern twisting through me as I pressed the phone to my ear and walked out of the bathroom, into my bedroom.
Eric never cancelled anything—at least not in the span of time that I had known him. He was a man who meticulously planned his life that even his free time was basically factored into all of his time management.
Something urgent had clearly happened. But what?
I bit my bottom lip as I heard him moving around and what sounded like papers being shuffled in the background. It was the first time in my work escorting that I truly didn’t know what I should do in this situation. Usually, I felt nothing when a date abruptly cancelled—no disappointment, no worry over the reasons why they no longer needed me. So why did I feel this strong urge to rush to Eric’s side and make sure that everything was okay? That he was okay?
That deep, genuine concern swirling through me was not good. Not good at all.
“I’m also rearranging some things around for the next few days,” he went on. “Something unexpected came up, and I need to be elsewhere.”
I was definitely curious, but I did what I did best. Accommodate the client without pressure or demands. “I understand.”
There was a pause, then, “Also, I have a favor to ask of you. I would like for you to come with me. This is something that is very different from our usual outings, far more extended, and not something that I had intended to come up quite so soon.”
I was, for a moment, tongue-tied. “Sure. What is it?”
He exhaled a deep breath, shocking me with his next words. “We’re going to New York to see my parents.”
I didn’t get much further explanation from Eric after that, not that I needed one when I was essentially at his beck and call. He told me that I should pack enough for a weekend and assured me that I would be compensated for the time spent in New York and all the expenses included with it. All a part of our arrangement, of course—though that foolish part of me wished accompanying him wasn’t such an impersonal transaction.
He hadn’t told me exactly what meeting his parents entailed, why it was so sudden, or what I needed to be there for to begin with, but this was the nature of what I did. To be what other people needed me to be because they needed it and I was the only person that could give it to them.
I sighed as I finished packing my suitcase. I had no problems with this because pleasing the client was my job, but I also couldn’t deny the burning curiosity and apprehension that warred its way through me. I recalled the brief conversation at Felix’s party, when the other man had asked about Eric’s parents, and how quickly he’d diverted that subject. In our time together, we’d never discussed his parents, mostly because I’d seen his uncomfortable reaction that day. It wasn’t my place to ask, and he hadn’t offered an explanation. I understood, because I hadn’t shared anything about my mother and father, either.
So why was he taking me to meet his parents?
My phone alerted me when Eric was there, his text coming in with a chime that startled me back to the present. I grabbed my bags and carted them down. To my surprise, Eric was waiting outside the car for me, a pensive look on his handsome face. He’d driven to my place, not Jeff. Quietly, almost solemnly, he took my bags out of my hands and put them in the trunk before we settled in the front seats of the car.
We said nothing to each other, and the ride was silent.
I couldn’t bring myself to ask the questions that were buzzing around in my head, and Eric seemed too preoccupied to entertain a conversation. But judging by his serious demeanor, this didn’t seem like a casual let’s go meet my parents situation. This seemed almost…dire. Which made me feel as though I was sitting on pins and needles all the way to the airport.
When we arrived, rather than go through the usual airport route, we pulled around to a different lot, where there was a small, private plane on the tarmac. Eric must have called ahead of time because he hadn’t been on his phone the entire ride there. His eyes had been fixated on the road, his hands wrapped tight around the steering wheel.
There didn’t seem to be a good or right time to broach the subject of…everything, even as we pulled up next to the private plane.
Eric spoke with the pilot, and I was led toward the plane by the valet after he returned from stowing away our bags. He was sharp, well-kempt, and had a smile that I’m sure would be dazzling if I wasn’t so out of sorts.
Going through the motions, one moment I was outside of the aircraft, making my way up that inclined staircase that led inside, and the next I was seated. No matter how luxurious I thought the leather seats probably were, I couldn’t actually get comfortable. I couldn’t allow myself to really feel the plushness, or let the AC keep my sun-dried skin cool because it was too warm with anxiety that I couldn’t think of anything else other than what would happen when Eric got on the plane. Would he speak to me? Would he be wrapped up in his own thoughts too much as he was on the drive here? Would there be a good time to even consider asking him what it was I was doing here and why?
It didn’t even occur to me until that moment that I had agreed to this without asking for details. That I just trusted Eric when he said that he needed me.
After a short while, a stewardess came by to offer me a drink and ask if I would like something complimentary to eat. I declined, my stomach in knots, and Eric eventually made his way onto the plane. He took the seat adjacent to mine on the other side of the aisle and stared ahead stoically.
Silence.
More silence.
The announcement from the pilot that we were about to take off and that it would be a two-hour flight came through the intercom, in that perfectly packaged pilot’s voice that always put people at ease. It did little to soothe me, though, as I sat there in the quiet save for the low rumble of the plane’s engine.
It was a modestly staffed plane. Other than the initial question of whether or not we wanted food and drink, we weren’t bothered. The crew seemed to know when to leave Eric to his own devices and seemingly, his guests as well. Their discreet actions made it so there was a sense of privacy between the two of us, but it didn’t make me any more inclined to ask the questions that I wanted, and it didn’t seem to make Eric any more inclined to speak, either. At least not until about a half hour into the flight.
“I’m sorry for any inconvenience this may have caused,” he said, his voice startling me so that I glanced his way, while he stared straight ahead, his body still tense. “And not fully explaining myself. I understand in situations like this, it’s not the ideal spot to be put into.”
Finally, he looked over to me. His eyes were tired, puffy underneath and reddish in the whites of them. He hadn’t been crying, I didn’t think. But he certainly hadn’t had a decent amount of sleep, either.
He cleared his throat. “If you’ll give me this flight, and let me get us checked into our hotel, after we get settled I can explain everything I need of you on this trip. Please?”
This was the first time that he had ever asked for anything quite like this. Something personal, and clearly, emotional. I nodded. “Of course.”
In normal situations I wouldn’t have trusted a client to whisk me away like this, on such short notice, clearly in some kind of distress. It was asking to be compromised, roped into something that you legitimately didn’t want to do. But Eric…there was something about the imploring way that he looked at me that tapped directly into my compassionate side.
Knowing I’d get answers soon enough, I laid back, closed my eyes, and let the hum of the plane lull me to sleep for a nap.
I was woken up by the soft nudge of someone at my shoulder, and a gentle, “Miss? We’re about to land. Mr. Maxim should be out of the bathroom shortly. He’s freshening up. You’re welcome to do the same, Miss Greene?”
I blinked, eyes somewhat bleary, and shook my head. Maybe I’d take the initiative on the plane ride home, but honestly all I wanted at this point was a long soak in a bath and we certainly didn’t have time for that kind of freshening up while on a plane.
“No, thank you,” I said, my voice hoarse from sleep. “I’ll just wait for Eric.”
The stewardess smiled and gave a nod, continuing on her way.
When Eric exited and returned to his seat, I was buckling up to prepare for the descent. His hair was smoothed back, not a strand out of place. His suit had been buttoned up properly and not open, haphazard, like it had been when he’d picked me up. Most notably, his eyes were no longer puffy and red like he had lost sleep for several days, but alert and awake behind a pair of silver framed glasses that I had yet to see him wear—even though I’d discovered a while back that he wore contacts—but gave him a very distinguished, attractive look.
He gave me a courtesy nod as he buckled himself back in. The only thing close to words spoken was a sigh as he leaned his head back against the head rest.
If our drive to the airport had been quiet and awkward, then our ride from the airport in Baxterville, New York was just the same. We didn’t speak, and I hung back when we finally arrived at The Ville Hotel, where we would be staying. It was modelled after Grecian architecture, pillars and archways everywhere. Gold motifs and lots of red and royal blues, purples, and greens. I wished that I had been able to admire the scenery more as we came to our room, one of the apparent two penthouse suites that the hotel boasted.
“Eric—” I started as the door closed behind the two of us. Now that we were alone, I wanted the answers he’d promised.
“I’m going to take a shower,” he said, abruptly cutting me off before I could say anything at all. “There’s two, if you’d like to take your own.”
I frowned as I was dismissed as though this wasn’t a huge inflation of our contract. I resisted the urge to follow him down the hallway, deciding that if I was going to actually have to put my foot down with this man, at least I would do it when I was freshly washed and pampered in the kind of amenities that a five-star hotel like this would offer me.
I took my toiletries into the bathroom that Eric didn’t occupy. His shower sounded from across the suite as I started mine up, and I craved to be in that shower with him, too. The first proper out of state trip that we’d taken together, and it was shrouded in all of this mystery and uncertainty…
I sighed, looking around the bathroom. It was decked out in marble, and was large enough for a walk-in shower, and a free-standing marble tub. The countertops were all white granite, and the mirrors were the shiniest, most reflective I’d ever seen. Like the rest of the hotel, there were accents in gold, and I could not help but give a wistful little huff.
“Wish I could really enjoy this shit,” I muttered irritably.
Rather than take a long soak in the bath, I decided to take my time in the shower. God, the water pressure was something to kill for, the heat enough to turn me into a lobster if I really wanted to. I washed my hair, cleaned the makeup from my face, and freshened up the shave on my legs and pits. Once I’d cherry picked my way through the full-sized, complimentary body washes that they had provided, I stepped out of the bathroom in a comfortable pair of cotton shorts and casual-but-fashionable shirt. After running a comb through my hair, I returned to the main section of the suite, where Eric sat on a plush, red-velvet chair.
He was leaning back, wearing a white t-shirt and plain black boxers that were probably as expensive as a single outfit in my closet. His hair, still damp, had not been combed back and neatly put into place as it usually was. He had his glasses on once again, instead of his contacts. Despite the shower, he still looked so weary, and all my earlier annoyance instantly vanished.
Silence hung between us, as it had for most of the day, but I went ahead and walked his way. Nor could I stop myself from getting into his space whether he wanted it or not. I sat down on the floor beside that low set chair and let my head rest against his knee—my way of silently comforting him.
“Tell me why I’m here?” I asked softly.
It was not a demand, but a gentle request. I let myself be unexpectedly brought out here, under a premise that I had not prepared for, yet the way that Eric had gone about it and even the wariness—no, the bone-deep reluctance—to tell me what was going on, made me think that it was something bigger than even I could imagine.
I waited patiently, and eventually, he answered.
“My parents live up here in an assisted living facility,” he explained, his voice low and steady. “Considering my age, I imagine you understand that they’re not the youngest people, considering they had me in their late thirties. My mother has had dementia for the last five years, my father the last three. Between running the business, and keeping them comfortable, this was the best solution, for them. They’re the most familiar with New York. It keeps them calm, and for me, it keeps them safe because there aren’t many people who know about their condition, nor do I want them to.”
He reached out and gently ran his fingers through my damp hair, slowly and methodically, as if the action soothed him as much as it did me as I continued to keep my head on his thigh. I was just content that he was touching me in some way after all the distance between us today.
“Honestly, it’s a miracle that they even remember me, though it’s not much,” he said, sounding heart-breakingly sad. “They always wanted me to marry, settle down, have children. I was always too married to work to let that be a reality. So…usually when I would come to visit them, I’d bring whatever girl I had most recently dated. When my parents had to be admitted to the facility because of their dementia, I kept doing it. Now, they think it’s the same girl, even when it’s not.”
I closed my eyes, my throat growing thick as I listened to his story and heard the pain in his voice, while he continued to absently pet my head.
“They always ask about the children that we ‘haven’t had yet’ and I pay her handsomely to play along, because it makes them happy to talk about the grandkids they’d always wanted and believe are real. It’s easier to perpetuate the ruse than to try and convince people who can’t even remember their names some days to understand that the fantasy in their minds just doesn’t exist,” he said gruffly. “I had planned on eventually explaining all of this to you, to see how you might feel about accompanying me for a visit that I’d schedule months from now so it was planned and you were prepared, but I received a call earlier today that my father had an accident. He fell and set his hip out of order. A whole ordeal. He kept asking for me, and my wife. Wanting me to come visit and take care of him.”
Eric exhaled a deep breath, and I lifted my head and glanced up at him, meeting his dark, somewhat tormented gaze. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered.
“No, I’m sorry.” He gave me a faint smile as his hand settled at the side of my face and his thumb stroked along my cheek. “This should have been something that I put into your contract. I understand this. I know that unexpected things happen all the time, and honestly, I should have prepared for this better. It’s…I try to guard my parents as best as I can. The last time I brought someone around them, it didn’t go well. She thought that joking about them being ‘forgetful’ was fucking peak comedy.”
I winced and Eric scoffed, disgusted. “I am sorry,” he said again, his eyes softening. “I’m in a place right now where I am trying to do the best thing I can for my parents and I apologize for bringing you into this situation, but I just couldn’t face them alone.”
There was more vulnerability in his words than he’d ever displayed with me, and it made my heart tighten in my chest. When I was sure that he was done speaking, I rose to my feet and then settled onto his lap, grateful that he allowed me to do so.
His pain resonated within the deepest part of me, because I knew what it was like to lose parents. His weren’t dead, but they weren’t themselves, either. They weren’t the mother and father that he had grown up with, weren’t the parents that had shaped him into the man that he had become. They were something different, and he was having to navigate that the best way that he knew how. They didn’t even live in the same state as he did, and I couldn’t recall if I had seen pictures of himself with his parents in his apartment. It was, truly, as though they were no longer there, as if those memories and reminders of how they’d once been were too much for him to bear.
“I understand,” I said after a moment. “I mean, different situation, but you’re trying to figure out how to live knowing that who you knew your parents to be aren’t there anymore in here,” I said, tapping my temple. “But if you need me to help you cope with this, Eric, then I can do that. Just tell me what I need to do.”
I reached out, brushing my fingers through the damp strands of hair that had fallen over his forehead. He took my hand in his hold, pressing it to his chest, right over his steadily beating heart.
“Thank you,” he said softly, the earlier tension in his body now gone. “I promise I won’t be so out of sorts tomorrow.”
“I think in this case, you’re allowed to be out of sorts, Eric. You’re dealing with some pretty heavy stuff. You can’t be Mr. Business all the time.” I sat up a little more, an idea popping into my head that would hopefully put us back on course. “Say, why don’t we order in tonight for dinner? Get something really bad for us. Pizza. Maybe some wings. We relax tonight, that way come tomorrow, you can have your head a little more cleared.”
Eric chuckled, his blue eyes a bit brighter now that he’d shared his burden with me. “You’ve got a deal. I’ll get us the biggest supreme pizza you could possibly find in New York, and I know the perfect place to get wings. How do you feel about honey barbeque?”
I grinned, as if he didn’t already know how I felt about food in general. “I feel like I might have to let my clothes out at the seams. Honey barbeque wings are my weakness.”
“Oh?” His brows rose, and a wicked smile curved his lips. “I wish I had known that sooner. You know I’d do just about anything to get you out of your clothes.”
Relief and that familiar desire trickled through me. And just like that, we were mostly back on track.