“What kind of women do you like?”
“Uh . . . pretty ones?”
The women on the other end gave a mild laugh. For such an articulate man, Darren was struggling with his words.
“I meant, sir, what kind of woman do you like? Let's start with ethnicity. White, black, Asian, Indian, Iraqi . . .”
“Whoa, um . . . let's keep it simple. I'd like . . . an African American woman.”
“Okay. Do you prefer women heavy, petite, blond or athletic? Do you like an intellectual woman? Any fetishes?”
“No . . . no, hell no. I mean . . . no. No fetishes. I do, however, like fit women.”
“How tall, sir?”
“Uh, I don't know.”
“How tall are you?”
“Six feet two inches.”
“You want a woman your height, shorter or taller?”
“Wow, you have women that are taller than me?”
“We have everything that you desire, sir.”
“Everything?”
“Everything.”
“Okay. Then I will take a pretty, fit, African American woman, but shorter than me. Maybe five feet four inches tall.”
Darren felt insecure. He felt weird, as if he were ordering pizza from a new restaurant in town. He paced back and forth in his condo.
“I need more detail than that, sir.”
“I'm sorry?”
“Pretty is too subjective. In order for this to work, Mr. Howard, I'm really going to need you to tell me exactly what it is that you want.”
“I'm not sure if I know what I want.”
“That's fine. Is this your first time?”
“Can't you tell?”
Darren laughed a bit himself this time. So did the woman on the phone, but she still remained professional.
“Mr. Howard, let's try a new approach. Describe an African American woman who you think is beautiful. You can even give me the name of a celebrity and I can take care of everything from there.”
The whole conversation seemed surreal. Darren couldn't believe that he was going through with this. He felt nervous at first, but the more he talked to the sexy voice on the other end of the phone, the calmer he became. After a while he began to feel more confident. He decided to take on the persona of his client, a confident and influential African American man.
“Okay. I think Keyshia Cole is beautiful. I also like Jada Pinkett Smith. There is also Meagan Goodâoh, and I also happen to love Serena Williams. I think Serena has an amazing body.”
“Slow down, Mr. Howard, I think I have an idea of the scale you are looking for. Let's begin slowly. Would you like someone this evening who looks like Keyshia or Serena or a combination of both?”
“A combination of both? Is that even possible?”
“It is.”
“Damn, what are you guys doing over there, building them in a lab?”
“No sir, we are simply... elite.” The woman spoke in a very sexy tone.
“Well, let's start with a woman who looks like Keyshia.”
“Do you want a woman who looks like Keyshia Cole in the âShoulda Let You Go' video, or the âPlaya Cardz Right' video?”
“Wow. I think I'll take blond Keyshia.”
“Will she be there for a few hours or overnight?”
“Uh . . . How much is each?”
“A few hours, three to be exact, is fifteen hundred. Overnight is four thousand.”
Ouch! Darren thought.
There was a brief pause on the phone.
“Mr. Howard, are you still with me?”
“Huh, oh . . . yeah. I'm with you . . . four . . . thousand . . . dollars.” Darren couldn't believe it himself.
“I tell you what, Mr. Howard, since this is your first time and you have been referred by an elite VIP, I will charge you two thousand for an overnight. This option is a onetime offer. But you will have to act now. How does that sound?”
“Uh . . . um . . . okay. Two thousand. I'll take the . . . um . . . two-thousand dollar package.”
Darren couldn't even believe he was saying this. He couldn't believe he was doing this. Two thousand dollars? That was four car payments, or a round-trip ticket to Vegas. Hell, it was only sixteen hundred dollars for his trip to Brazil last year. This was two thousand dollars for one night. He was beginning to have doubtsâserious doubts. He was zoning out until the operator pulled him out of the daze he was in.
“Okay, Mr. Howard and how will you be completing your transaction?”
“Huh?”
“How will you pay for this?”
“Visa.”
“And this card number, will this be the card that you plan to use in the future?”
“Uh . . . I don't know that I will be using you again in the future.”
“Oh, I think you might,” the woman said confidently.
“Really? What makes you so sure?”
“We're Elite . . . remember?”
“Elite . . . yeah . . . got it.”
Darren and the phone operator exchanged information. His heart was pounding hard in his chest the whole time.
“Okay, Mr. Howard, you are all set. I just need your address.”
“3324 Jefferson”
“House or apartment?”
“Condo. The garden unit.”
“Your package will be there in two hours. There are just a few rules; they will be explained to you upon the package's arrival. Thank you for using Elite.”
“Thank you.”
Â
Darren let out a heavy sigh. He was really going to go through with this. He was already dressed, but became anxious at the prospect of having a call girl come to his home. He looked around his condo, which was always clean, and for whatever reason decided to clean up more.
He waxed the hardwood kitchen floor, wiped down the granite countertops, and sprayed glass cleaner on the cocktail table in the living room. He remade his bed, pulled out a few candles, and strategically placed them all over. He sprayed air freshener and pulled out some custom-made CD's. He pulled fresh fruit from the fridge, and staged his condo as if he were getting ready for a date. Only this date was costing him two large.
He paced back and forth and soon after lost his nerve. He started to call the escort service and ask them for a refund. He was sure there would be a no-refund policy or at the very least a cancellation fee.
He wanted to cancel, but by doing so, his client whom he used as a reference would surely be notified. He had to see this thing through. The problem was he was worrying himself to death. When he looked up, it was 10:59
P.M.
At exactly 11:00, his bell rang.
Darren's heart pounded in his chest. His breathing was erratic and he was nervous, more nervous than he had ever been in his life. He was even more nervous now than he was at graduation. He swallowed hard before opening the door. His jaw dropped as he looked at the stunningly beautiful woman who stood on the other side.
“Hello, Mr. Howard.” The woman's voice was smooth, sultry, and seductive.
Darren was speechless.
“My name is Keyshia.”
He stood there in the doorway in complete awe. There, in front of him, was a woman who looked the spitting image of the celebrity singer. Darren's mouth was wide open and he took a second to gather his composure. The woman was absolutely... breathtaking.
“Wow,” he said in a voice just above a whisper.
The woman blushed and smiled at the compliment.
“Can I come in?” she asked.
“Please. Please do.”
She had a honey-brown complexion, long, dark eyelashes, and a soft pink lipstick that perfectly complemented her bronze complexion. Her hair was a short feather cut and it was blond. She had pearly white teeth with a slight gap in the front two teeth and a smile that spoke volumes of seduction with a hint of shyness.
Her eyebrows were dark brown and she had big, beautiful brown eyes. She was top heavy and her stomach was flat, but not ripped. At first glance, she looked and sounded exactly like the R & B singer. She was dressed in a dark green strapless dress with matching heels. She had on gold hoop earrings and her nails were painted the same pink that matched her lipstick. There was no other word to describe her other than breathtaking.
“Please, sit down,” Darren said. “Do you want something to eat?”
“No, thank you. I would like a drink, though,” she said.
“What would you like?”
“Just water for now.”
He went to the kitchen and retrieved a glass of water, handing it to her as she sat on the couch. He sat across from her. Darren was nervous, but he was no longer thinking about the coin that he spent. The escort spoke first.
“So, I hear this is your first time.” She looked at him seductively, innocently.
“It is.”
“Well, there are a few rules. Do you mind if I go over them?” She placed the glass of water on the table as she spoke to him.
“Uh, no. Please. Please do.” He poured himself a drink: rum and Coke in a short glass.
“Well, for starters, there is no kissing on the mouth. If you want to initiate intimacy, you begin by kissing me here, on the neck. I don't play rough, and I don't expect you to. I use protection and I supply the protection. At any point if I feel unsafe or I say stop . . . I expect you to do just that.”
Darren felt uneasy at this point; he felt dirty. Suddenly he felt very wrong in doing this. Again, however, he felt he needed to see things through. He started this and like many experiences in life, you can't un-ring a bell.
“I . . . uh . . . I understand,” he said.
“You can touch me anywhere. You cannot digitally penetrate my backside, however. Also, just as a disclaimer, the agency knows where I am, and they have all of your information. I provide a service. You pay for the fantasy and are entitled to the fantasy, but in no way, shape or form, are you entitled to the woman. Are we clear on that?”
“Uh . . . crystal clear.”
“One more thing. I don't date clients. I don't see anyone outside of the realm of this arena. I do not share personal information. So please don't ask me how or why I'm in this business. Please don't try to save me from this business and should you see me in public with anyone, male or female, please do not approach me. I could be with a customer or I could be with family. In either case, I don't mix my business with my personal life. If it's possible for me to approach you to say hello, I will. If I don't, well, please don't take any offense. I expect you to conduct yourself as a professional. Are there any questions?”
“Uh . . . no.”
Darren looked quite disappointed. The look on his face spoke volumes about how ashamed he was to have called a service. He felt dirty, seedy, and desperate. He didn't feel like a professional at all. Nor did he feel like a man who commanded respect. Upon hearing the disclaimer, he immediately felt that this was a mistake. The escort could see the regret on his face. She got up and sat next to him to reassure him.
“I know this all sounds . . . impersonal; maybe even cold. But once we establish the boundaries, I assure you everything else will fall in place. I also promise you that I won't disappoint you.”
He could smell her perfume. It was expensive. She smelled amazing. She wore scented body lotion that smelled like fresh fruit. She looked good and smelled good. Good enough to eat. Darren was at a loss as to what to do next, so he asked her.
“So . . . what do you want to do? I mean, how do we do this?” He replaced the glass on the table.
“Everything is up to you. You have me for the entire night.”
She took his chin in her hand and kissed him on the cheek.
“You're beautiful, you know that?”
“Thank you.”
She smiled a beautiful smile and Darren thought his heart might just stop then and there. He had to keep telling himself this wasn't real. It was a fantasy, a very expensive fantasy. He immediately could see why his client was addicted.
“Do you want to go out and get a bite to eat?” he asked.
“If you're buying, I could eat.”
Darren smiled. “Okay, then. Let's go.” He took her by the hand and they left.
They went out to the garage that was attached to the condo and headed to Darren's car. They went on Lake Shore Drive and took in the city's beautiful skyline while listening to soft music. They took Lake Shore Drive to Roosevelt Road and then drove from South Michigan Avenue to North Michigan Avenue. From there they drove to Rush Street and had dinner at Gibson's steak house.