Dating Games(43)

“These women are strong, resilient, and highly educated, but they’ve been mentally — and sometimes physically — abused for so long, they truly believe their only worth in life is offering a nice smile and making sure their bodies are in top physical condition so their husbands don’t stray to something younger…which I know for a fact they do anyway. Hell, I’ve even had some of my clients tell me their husbands offered them up to their associates in order to make a deal on a valuable piece of real estate or something else, viewing them as a piece of property. Nothing more.”

“And you think what you do helps break the cycle?”

“I hope so. Before many of these women sought my services, they believed their only option was to stay in a loveless, often abusive relationship. Their husbands made them feel like they were disposable. Some of them have never worked a day in their lives. Their husbands made them believe if they left the marriage, they’d have nothing. So they stayed, resigning themselves to a life of unhappiness. I give them the strength and confidence they’ve never felt, which helps them with the next step, whether it be filing for divorce or trying to make things work with their spouse.”

“How do you claim to not take advantage of these women then? It sounds like they’ve been taken advantage of their entire lives. Now you come in and use their vulnerability to sleep with them.”

“Who says I’ve slept with them?”

“Have you?”

“I believe that may be a question for another day, Miss Fitzgerald.”

“Okay, but you didn’t answer my question about how you started doing this. Obviously, something must have happened in your life that made you become the Keyser S?ze of the escort industry.”

The line’s silent for a moment. Then he breaks into a throaty laugh. It’s deep, intense, and all-consuming. Everything I get the feeling this man is in real life.

“The Keyser S?ze of the escort industry?”

“You do know who that is, don’t you?”

His laughing gradually dies down. “Yes. I have seen The Usual Suspects.”

“Then you know why I call you that. You’re like an enigma, a ghost story wives can threaten their husbands with if they act like assholes. ‘Better treat me well, or August Laurent will come to my rescue.’ So how does one become August Laurent? Or is it a combination of Keyser S?ze and the Dread Pirate Roberts?”

“The what?”

“The Dread Pirate Roberts,” I repeat. “Please tell me you know what that’s from; otherwise, I’ll have to question my faith in the human race.”

He laughs again, and I find myself melting into my chair from the sound. “The Princess Bride. One of my absolute favorite movies. But the book is better.”

“It always is. So, did you get taught the ropes from the August Laurent who came before you? Like in The Princess Bride?”

“No. It’s just me. But you do give me an idea for when I’m ready to hang up my hat.”

“Hang up your hat?”

“I can’t do this forever. Unfortunately, what I do has a time limit. Or an age limit.”

“And that’s the only reason you’d walk away? When you age out, so to speak?”

He considers my question for a moment, then answers, “Yes.”

“But what about finding a wife? Settling down to have a family of your own?”

“You assume I don’t already have one,” he jests, bemused. I picture him leaning back in a chair, brushing his masculine fingers against his lips, much like Julian does when I say something amusing.

“I think it’s a valid assumption. Not sure how practical it is to do what you do and be married. I doubt any woman would put up with that. I wouldn’t.”

“And you’re right. Which is why I’m not involved. Nor do I plan to become involved with anyone in the near future.”

“Don’t you want that?”

“Want what?”

“A real relationship.”

“I’m happy with my current situation. It satisfies me in a way you’d only be able to scratch the surface of.”

“I understand that,” I say quickly. “Obviously, you enjoy…whatever it is you do. Otherwise, I doubt you’d be doing it. But aren’t you lonely?”

“How can I be lonely when I have the pleasure of keeping beautiful women company?”

“You keep them company. But who keeps you company?” I press. When he doesn’t immediately respond, I continue. “Everyone wants to find love. Real love. True love. It’s what wars are fought over. That and religion, but I suppose one could argue love would enter into that equation, too. Throughout our adult life, every decision we make is generally for the purpose of love. What is so important about remaining on this path that you’re willing to sacrifice finding love?”

There’s a pause on the line. When he finally speaks again, his voice is a bit softer than it was mere seconds ago. “I’ll tell you what, Miss Fitzgerald, since you seem to believe so strongly in the concept of love… If I ever find someone worth giving this all up for, I’ll gladly grant your magazine an exclusive photo shoot and you can plaster my face from here to kingdom come.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Really.” I remain silent as I absorb his words. Then he clears his throat. “I believe we’ve gotten off track again.”