“But you’re Jackson’s dad…he’s…he’s my best friend.” I felt my body numb with shock.
“So? Who cares if I’m Jackson’s dad. This has nothing to do with him.”
“But this has
everything
to do with him!” I heard myself scream at the door.
“Why? Is Jackson your boyfriend and I didn’t get the memo?” There was a mocking tone to his voice, which hurt and angered me at the same time.
“No, but…”
“Well there you go then. You and Jackson are just friends. From what Madam Celine tells me, you’re single. So explain to me what’s so wrong about that?”
I opened my mouth but then closed it. I wasn’t sure what to say, because I didn’t have a clear answer. Even though it wasn’t technically wrong, in the legal sense, it felt very wrong to be having sex with Mr. Pierce.
“Ask yourself this: if Jackson was a girl, and you were best friends with my daughter, would you still think our interaction would be forbidden or wrong?”
“I…” I didn’t know what to say. There was some truth in what he’d just asked. There was something that felt wrong with what’d just happened because Jackson was a guy, and maybe I wouldn’t feel as strongly about it if Jackson was a girl. But as hard as I tried, I couldn’t wrap my mind around why it would be different.
“Do you like Jackson or something?”
His question made me feel uneasy.
Like Jackson? Like my best friend?
That was something I’d never thought about before.
“Well I should tell you now that you should stop wasting your time. Jackson sees you as his sister and friend, nothing else.”
The thought that Jackson thought of me like a sister made me more upset than I could understand.
Then another question came to me. “How did you arrange this? How did you find me? And why? Why me?” My questions rushed out in rapid succession as my brain tried to process how all this had happened tonight.
How can life be this twisted?
“Well I discovered Madam Celine and her
services
recently. Since my divorce, I’d gotten really lonely, and quite frankly, horny. So I was going through her portfolio of girls, and I couldn’t believe my eyes when I landed on the page with your pictures.” He let out a loud sigh of pleasure, and I could tell he was leaning into the door between us while he spoke.
“But why me?” I repeated. “There are so many other options, girls much more popular with Madam Celine’s clients than I am. Why did you have to pick me? You’ve known me since I was a kid. Wouldn’t that make me the last option you’d pick in her portfolio of girls?”
“Chloe, now that’s a silly question. You must know that I’ve had my eyes on you since you were sixteen. My son’s an idiot for not making a move on you. I’ve tried to show you how I feel about you, but you were just too innocent to even know. You have no idea how much that innocence drove me over the edge. I was really disappointed when you never came to see me when you started at Penn. I guess you didn’t get my hints. So you better believe I was pleasantly surprised when I was looking for a long term no-strings-attached lady friend through Madam Celine and came across your photos. Damn, Chloe, I must say, those are some amazing photos Madam Celine has of you in that portfolio, but nothing compares to seeing you in the flesh, and feeling you respond to my touch and my body.”
I felt sick hearing his words, and all the past memories of his odd behaviors when we were alone began to flood back to me and take on a new light and meaning. I hugged my bent knees tightly as I rocked back and forth on the bathroom floor, trying to somehow will tonight from my memory.
“Why did you blindfold me? Why did you make me have sex with you without letting me know it was you?”
“Because I wanted to show you that you could have fun with me if you didn’t let your feelings for Jackson get in the way and cloud your judgment. If he was really interested in you, he would have made his move a long time ago. So if you’re single, and spreading that tight pussy for random men you don’t know, why not spread it for me?”
At that point, I couldn’t take it anymore. I wanted—and needed— to get out of here. I just couldn’t listen to what he had to say one second longer. I got up, took in a deep breath to calm my nerves, and opened the door.
His eyes lit up as soon as he saw me, but I didn’t give him a chance to get a word in.
“Don’t fucking touch me!” With all the force I could muster, I pushed him back with both of my hands. As he stumbled backwards, I ran past him and out of Room 509 as fast as I could, not daring to look back.
***
When the valet arrived with my car, I quickly paid and got in before speeding off. It wasn’t until I was several miles out from that hotel that I’d finally slowed down.
I pulled over to the side of the street and tried to calm myself. This couldn’t happen again. I reached for my phone and dialed Madam Celine’s number.
“Hello?”
“Madam Celine, this is Chloe Sinclair. I know it might be a little late to call,” I looked at my watch and saw that it said ten-twenty, “but this is an emergency.”
“What is it, Chloe? Aren’t you supposed to be with a new client right now?” I could hear the worry in her voice.
“I’m calling about that actually.”
“What is it? Did you meet him? Is everything okay?”
“Yes, I met him, but everything’s not okay. I know this client through my personal life.”
“Okay?”
“He’s my best friend’s father. I’ve known him since I was seven.”
“And?” It was clear she didn’t see a problem with that. “Did he complain? Did he not know it was you?”
“No, that’s just it. He knew it was me when he signed up. But I can’t see him again.”
“Is that what he wants?”
“I don’t know. Does it matter? I’m telling you
I
can’t do it. He can’t be a repeat client for me.”
“Chloe, unless there’s some legal issue, or something I can use to tell the client that he can’t have what he wants—and has already had—I’m afraid that’s not a request I can agree with. This is a new client, but with his connections in the area, I see him as a client I want to keep happy for both his repeat business and his referral business. Plus, like my motto says, ‘Client comes first.’”
I wanted to say her motto was “Clients
cums
first,” but I didn’t think arguing over that would help my cause. But I didn’t back down from the issue. Instead, I pushed further. “What if I refused to see him again? Could he just be reassigned to someone else?”
“Chloe, let me make this clear to you one last time,” the growing impatience was clear in her voice, “Who your client is, it’s
not
your choice, it’s not even my choice. It’s the client’s. So if the client still wants to see you, then you’ll see him, and you’ll see him with a smile on your face and your thighs wide open for his pleasure.”
I swallowed. “So there’s nothing I can do to change that?”
“No, you can’t pick and choose who you are with. If this client wants to see you again, and you refuse, then I’ll have to terminate our agreement and your position at the agency. Do I need to remind you of our contract?”
“No, you don’t. I think you’ve made it perfectly clear what my options are.”
My arrangement with Madam Celine was a unique one, and before I had agreed to be one of her girls about a year ago, we’d drafted up a contract that set out a number of terms.
First, she agreed to my request to keep my number of clients low and “dates” less frequent compared to her other girls. I had school and had joined a few social groups on campus during my spring semester freshman year. I only wanted to make enough every month to pay for the monthly medical installment payments and the bills Aunt Betty and Uncle Tom were receiving.
Second—and the unique portion of our agreement—I’d agreed to work for her for a period of two years in exchange for a total of $500,000.00 after taxes, to be paid in monthly installments and be paid directly to Aunt Betty and Uncle Tom. That was the total amount of medical bills Aunt Betty and Uncle Tom needed to pay off. Under the contract, Madam Celine had reached out to Aunt Betty and Uncle Tom last year to inform them that they were the grand prize winners of a raffle they’d entered at the mall the year before. Although neither Aunt Betty or Uncle Tom can recall entering any raffles, as predicted, they didn’t question anything and were more than happy to accept the monthly installment payments for a period of two years. Under the contract, if I stopped being an escort before the two-year period ended, the monthly payments would stop immediately.
This second term in my agreement with Madam Celine had been my idea. It was the only way I could think of to ensure that Aunt Betty and Uncle Tom would accept such a large sum of money without questioning its source. It was one thing for Aunt Betty to believe I had three grand in my savings, but quite another thing for her to believe I was able to get my hands on half a million dollars.
There had been another reason why I didn’t want Aunt Betty and Uncle Tom to know that I was the source of the money. I didn’t deserve to be treated like I was some hero who came and saved them from their financial crisis when I was the whole reason why they were in the crisis to begin with.
By the time I hung up the phone with Madam Celine, I knew that if I wanted Aunt Betty and Uncle Tom to continue to receive their monthly payments, I had to continue to see Mr. Pierce if he requested me. If I refused to see him, Madam Celine would terminate our contract and I’d no longer be an escort for her agency, and Aunt Betty and Uncle Tom would stop receiving the money, and they’d probably lose the house.
I was at a loss and had no idea what to do. There was still a year left on my contract with Madam Celine and about a quarter of a million dollars left in unpaid medical bills. I knew there was no way I could get my hands on that much money in a year’s time.
But this is Jackson’s dad. How can I even consider continuing down this path? I can’t do that to Jackson!
I felt torn between my obligation toward Aunt Betty, Uncle Tom, and Charlie, and Jackson. How could I possibly choose between the two?
I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I did know one thing: I had to see Jackson right away and tell him what happened.
***
My eyes felt dry and heavy as I gulped down the rest of my morning coffee. It was almost ten in the morning the next day and I was only a few minutes from Jackson’s fraternity house. Unable to fall asleep after the previous night’s events, I’d left Philadelphia just before five in the morning. During the entire five hour drive, I replayed over and over again everything that’d happened the night before.
I knew that I needed to talk to Jackson. He’d told me before that he didn’t want to hear about the guys I’d slept with, but I think this had to be an exception. He might not want to know, but sleeping with his father was not something I wanted to keep from him.
When I pulled up in front of the frat house, I saw a few guys mulling around in the yard, cleaning up the beer cans and red SOLO cups left over from last night’s party.
Must be pledges
, I thought to myself.
I checked my phone to see if Jackson responded to my text messages telling him I was coming into town. Nothing.
The front door of the frat house had already been propped open, so I decided to check to see if he was already awake. I knew I was being crazy for coming here unannounced, but after what had happened last night, I just needed to tell Jackson as soon as possible.
Besides a couple of guys and girls passed out on the various couches in the common area, the first floor of the house was empty. I headed up to Jackson’s room, remembering it from the handful of times I’d visited him within the last year he’d lived here.
When I got to Jackson’s door, I thought I heard him talking inside. But when I knocked, no one answered.
Maybe he didn’t hear me.
Without another thought, I opened the door and walked in.
I gasped at what I saw. But my gasps were drowned out by the even-louder cries of the naked girl with long, strawberry blonde curls cascading down her back. She was straddled on top of Jackson and riding him like there was no tomorrow. Jackson’s hands gripped her waist as he thrusted up in time with the movement of her hips.
I tried to back out of the room before they saw me standing there, but it was too late.
“Fuck! Chloe? What the fuck are you doing here?” Jackson screamed when he spotted me, and I watched as he pushed the blonde off of him.
For a brief moment, I averted my eyes away from Jackson’s hard, rigid chest and enormous, throbbing erection, feeling my cheeks flush at the sight of him as my body react in a way that I’d never felt before.
Why am I turned on all of a sudden when I see him naked? He’s my best friend!
But when I turned back to face them, my eyes locked onto the last person I was expecting to see, and my body stiffened at the sight of her.
“Don’t you know how to knock, Chloe? Or do they not teach you guys that at Penn?” Amber flashed me a condescending smirk as she placed her hands on her perfectly-curved hips.
Amber and Jackson?
Shock paralyzed me as I looked between the two of them, unable to believe my eyes.