Breaking Into the Business by Hadley Knox Page B

be.”
    “If
you quit gigolo-ing? You would definitely have a chance with me.”
    “Well,
that’s just something I’ll have to keep in mind.”
    Even
over the phone, I could tell he was smiling that over-confident way in which he
smiled. I shook my head and rolled my eyes.
    “Enjoy
your date with the work friend,” he said. “Let me know if you hear anything on
the new super-secret phone.”
    “I
will,” I said and then hung up the phone.
    Luckily,
I had made it home before my new cell phone rang. As I answered the line, I ran
across the living room and sat in the kitchen chair in front of my laptop.
    “Hello,”
I said as I accessed the calendar and got my mouse ready to click on a date. I
just realized that we didn’t have a name for the business.
    “Did
I reach Greg?” a voice said on the other line.
    “I’m
his associate,” I answered. “But you have the right number.”
    “Okay,”
she said, slightly confused and abundantly uncomfortable.
    I
realized that I needed to come up with a word track or some other way of
answering the phone that didn’t immediately put off the caller.
    “So
you would like to schedule a time with Greg?” I asked.
    “I
guess I do.”
    “Are
you not sure?”
    “I’ve
never done anything like this before,” she said.
    What
was I supposed to say to this woman? Was I suddenly her counselor and life
coach? My personal answer for her was that she should hang up the phone and try
to find sex and companionship in a more traditional way, but I knew that I had
a business to run. I needed money like a fat kid needed a treadmill.
    “Don’t
look at it that way,” I said. “Keep in mind that you are buying temporary
companionship and that is all. Many people do this sort of thing and there’s
nothing to be ashamed of.”
    “I
guess you’re right,” she said softly. “When can I schedule the visit?”
    “He
has openings tonight,” I said.
    “I
am available tonight. Or really any night,” she added in a whisper that I knew
wasn’t meant for me. “Yeah, tonight is fine.”
    “How
does eight o’clock sound?”
    “That’s
fine.”
    “For
how long will you be requesting Greg?”
    “How
long does it take?”
    “It
depends on what you’re looking for,” I said, cringing to myself. This
conversation was harder than any walk of shame up my driveway after a one-night
stand. I wanted to claw out my throat with my hands.
    “Would
one hour be enough?” she asked.
    I
had a mortgage to pay and children to take care of. For me to make money, Greg
would have to work hard.
    “I
think you would want two hours minimum,” I said finally.
    “Okay,”
she agreed. “Then I would like to schedule him from eight to ten.”
    “Good,”
I said. “That will be four hundred dollars total. You can pay him when he
arrives. Now, I need the address of where you would like to meet him.”
    She
gave me the address, which I quickly typed into the notes on the calendar.
    “We
appreciate the business, and if you like your experience, please feel free to
call back or tell your friends.”
    That
last part I added on my own without planning to. I thought it was nice little
touch. Return customers were instrumental in any successful business.
    “Okay,
thank you,” she said and hung up the phone.
    As
soon as I set the cell phone down, I felt the remorse well up in me. I had helped
some lonely woman find her way into the arms of a man who slept with women for
money. Somehow, she felt like she was being dragged down into some dark, seedy
underbelly of society, and she couldn’t stop herself. There was no way she was
backing out now, but she still couldn’t escape that feeling of dread that she
was taking herself down a course that she would not be able to turn back from.
     
     

 
    Chapter Eleven
     
    Even
though I was eating with the girls, I still made dinner for the kids, and poked
a little at my plate while they ate.
    Jake,
of course, was interested in why I hadn’t come home the night