she wasn’t coming in today. I wanted to tell her everything that had happened last night, to tell her that Damon was someone I did want to continue seeing. I was attracted to him; he was confident and funny, and last night I saw a far more sensitive side to him, one that I could relate to.
After the morning meeting, I kept looking at the time in anticipation of lunch hour, when we would be meeting for the photo-shoot. The day went by far more slowly than usual, but finally the time came. I met Debra in front of the photography room, a level down from us. Issobelle was already there. I noticed another male in a maroon suit having his makeup and hair fixed and I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. After looking around the room, I noted the absence of a certain someone.
“Where’s Damon?” I asked Debra.
She looked at me with very little interest before a spark came to her eyes. “Oh, he didn’t tell you?” She left that comment to hang in the air for a few seconds before continuing. “Issobelle has known this model for a while and wanted to do this favor for him, so he’s going to be our cover shot. It was beneficial for us to go this way. I realized I didn’t have Damon’s number, so I had Cassidy call him and inform him this morning.”
“Why didn’t you ask me to do that?” I asked, trying to cover my annoyance. It was always me who called the workers and oversaw the cancelations, so why was this time the only exception?
“Well, I just didn’t think of you.”
Debra looked out of the corner of her eye to Issobelle, who had begun taking photos. Debra looked at me again, her eyes striking like a snake. “Your dress is a little low-cut, wouldn’t you say? Slightly inappropriate for work, maybe?”
She rested her hand on my shoulder, giving me a slight nod. Her expression was as patronizing as her tone. I boiled with rage and held her glare strongly. She walked away without saying anything else.
My dress was not low-cut and only showed slight skin. But her words had the desired effect: I was embarrassed and self-conscious. I felt pathetic that I attempted to appear more attractive to Damon. She knew what I was doing, and she exposed me for the fool I was. I had let myself be vulnerable. I sighed heavily, looking to the ground. What was I doing?
I waited impatiently for the photo-shoot to end. The flashing of the cameras was the only distraction I had from my brooding thoughts. Afterwards, my work took me longer than usual. I couldn’t concentrate, and, much later, I found myself slumped in my chair, my head and arms across my desk in defeat. There was no one in the office but me. I had finished my tasks fifteen minutes prior to my collapse. I just couldn’t bring myself to leave. I was internally beating myself up for being hurt, like a bewildered young schoolgirl who had been stood up. It had always just been business, so why did I read so much into it? Why did I have to blur those lines?
Finally, I made my way out to a taxi and began my journey home. My head rolled against the seat as I craned my head. We were about to drive past the café and bookstore that Damon and I had visited the night before. My eyebrows rose in surprise as I looked through the window to see Damon with a dark-haired woman with tanned skin. She was beautiful and they were laughing over something.
It seemed like the car slowed as I watched the scene. Perhaps this was guidance from my father. Coincidently I had driven past at this exact time to see Damon for who he really was.
I felt humiliated that I had thought of it as any more than what it really was. He was just an Escort. He always had been.
*
After a spell of sobbing I reminded myself of who I was. I was an independent and strong woman. I had never required the interests of men before, and I still didn’t now. Tensions went high at work as Cassidy excitedly brought him up, only to be quickly assured by me that there was nothing between us. She questioned
After the morning meeting, I kept looking at the time in anticipation of lunch hour, when we would be meeting for the photo-shoot. The day went by far more slowly than usual, but finally the time came. I met Debra in front of the photography room, a level down from us. Issobelle was already there. I noticed another male in a maroon suit having his makeup and hair fixed and I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. After looking around the room, I noted the absence of a certain someone.
“Where’s Damon?” I asked Debra.
She looked at me with very little interest before a spark came to her eyes. “Oh, he didn’t tell you?” She left that comment to hang in the air for a few seconds before continuing. “Issobelle has known this model for a while and wanted to do this favor for him, so he’s going to be our cover shot. It was beneficial for us to go this way. I realized I didn’t have Damon’s number, so I had Cassidy call him and inform him this morning.”
“Why didn’t you ask me to do that?” I asked, trying to cover my annoyance. It was always me who called the workers and oversaw the cancelations, so why was this time the only exception?
“Well, I just didn’t think of you.”
Debra looked out of the corner of her eye to Issobelle, who had begun taking photos. Debra looked at me again, her eyes striking like a snake. “Your dress is a little low-cut, wouldn’t you say? Slightly inappropriate for work, maybe?”
She rested her hand on my shoulder, giving me a slight nod. Her expression was as patronizing as her tone. I boiled with rage and held her glare strongly. She walked away without saying anything else.
My dress was not low-cut and only showed slight skin. But her words had the desired effect: I was embarrassed and self-conscious. I felt pathetic that I attempted to appear more attractive to Damon. She knew what I was doing, and she exposed me for the fool I was. I had let myself be vulnerable. I sighed heavily, looking to the ground. What was I doing?
I waited impatiently for the photo-shoot to end. The flashing of the cameras was the only distraction I had from my brooding thoughts. Afterwards, my work took me longer than usual. I couldn’t concentrate, and, much later, I found myself slumped in my chair, my head and arms across my desk in defeat. There was no one in the office but me. I had finished my tasks fifteen minutes prior to my collapse. I just couldn’t bring myself to leave. I was internally beating myself up for being hurt, like a bewildered young schoolgirl who had been stood up. It had always just been business, so why did I read so much into it? Why did I have to blur those lines?
Finally, I made my way out to a taxi and began my journey home. My head rolled against the seat as I craned my head. We were about to drive past the café and bookstore that Damon and I had visited the night before. My eyebrows rose in surprise as I looked through the window to see Damon with a dark-haired woman with tanned skin. She was beautiful and they were laughing over something.
It seemed like the car slowed as I watched the scene. Perhaps this was guidance from my father. Coincidently I had driven past at this exact time to see Damon for who he really was.
I felt humiliated that I had thought of it as any more than what it really was. He was just an Escort. He always had been.
*
After a spell of sobbing I reminded myself of who I was. I was an independent and strong woman. I had never required the interests of men before, and I still didn’t now. Tensions went high at work as Cassidy excitedly brought him up, only to be quickly assured by me that there was nothing between us. She questioned
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