Rome

The shower helped with washing away the annoyance and the dread from my body the call created. What is it with water? Somehow, regardless how pissed off, how shit, or crappy you feel, a shower always makes you feel better. At least, that’s how it works with me.

The only thing which would have made the shower better, would have been Carlene pushed hard up against the wall and my cock buried to the hilt inside her hot, wet pussy.

Shit! Are these really my thoughts? I never think such things about a client. Yeah, I mostly enjoy sex with clients, but it’s still work. Since when has Carlene moved to different territory in my own mind? In my own desires?

It happened sometime.

Was it when she first came through the doors of the airport or was it when she looked at the crystal in cynical wonder? Maybe it was when she let go with a full body shiver as my tongue touched her clit for the first time?

I really thought she’d have joined me in the shower. In fact, I would have sworn it would have been the case until I saw the strange look on her face as I walked in from the balcony. The one I’m still trying to figure out hours later. What’s been going through her head? Is she annoyed I took the call?

If that’s the case, then it sure surprises me. Oz doesn’t seem the type of woman to get bent out of shape over something like a call. And isn’t that the fundamental rule with this game—you never can pick ‘em. It’s a timely reminder. Even if I did feel real desire for her. Client, Rome.

Not yours to keep.

Client.

We arrived in San Fran early afternoon and headed straight to the Japanese Tea Gardens. It’s one of the spots Oz mentioned she was looking forward to seeing. I’m hoping a walk through the garden will return the Carlene I’ve come to know.

Carlene has been pleasant and cordial the whole drive up the coast. Ordinarily, I’d have happily taken such a demeanor from a client. Problem is, we’ve moved past that point. At least, I thought we had.

I’m the master of small talk, intimacy, sex, and fuck it—relationships—if I needed to be. God knows, I’ve provided more relationship advice than Dr Phil over the years. Most people don’t realize just how often an escort is very much a relationship or sex counsellor.

Women love to talk, and they love a guy who will listen to them talk. My number one attribute for a new guy to my team is his ability to really listen to a lady. If he can’t listen sincerely and care, he isn’t the sort of guy I want at Perfect Gentlemen. We’re the perfect partners, even if it is fantasy.

Right now, I’m at a loss as to what her problem is. She’s normally so up front and direct. It’s one of the things I find most attractive about her. I’d expect her to just come out with it if she had a problem.

“Oh Rome, look at how beautiful that is.” Her voice is thick with wonder. It’s the first truly genuine sentence she’s spoken today. She’s speaking from the heart; her emotions are unguarded.

My eyes follow the line of her finger. She’s pointing at a giant size bonsai tree on the bank of the koi pond. Around it are a ring of scarlet shrubs. It’s picture postcard beautiful. I can feel the serenity radiating across the pond, and immediately, some of the weight of my thoughts lifts.

I lace my fingers through hers and squeeze, wanting to be joined to her in the moment, wanting to experience the magic connected to her. It’s one of those standout moments in life from the pure beauty of it, and I can’t think of another person I’d rather enjoy it with than Carlene.

“It’s hard to find the words to describe just how beautiful it is,” I eventually murmur, not wanting to break the moment.

“It’s so powerful, I can feel the energy pulsing around us,” she says and squeezes my hand tighter. The energy isn’t limited to what our eyes can take in. It’s so much more. I can feel it pulsing through us, from her to me. From me to her.

The energy is bigger than both of us, rejuvenating, positive.

Time stands still, and we both pause, transfixed by the power of the moment—experiencing it as individuals and together, connected by our hands.

Maybe it’s the power of the moment giving me the courage—I have to know. “Are you okay?”

She turns her face up to me, her eyes hidden behind her sunglasses. “Are you?”

Straight back at me, I get her directness, but her words confuse me. What does she mean?

“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You got that call this morning, and, well, it looked like it wasn’t good news. And I guess I realized you’re kind of stuck here with me, and I got to thinking about things…” Her voice trails off, and I can only imagine what she’s thinking.

“It wasn’t great news, no. But nothing I can do anything about at the moment.”

Her face drops away and turns to look across the pond. I can see her weighing up things in her mind. Then she turns back to me.

“If you need to go, then please don’t feel obligated to stay on with me. I’ll be fine.” There’s a stubborn finality to what she says. It feels as though she’s forcing herself to do the right thing. And yes, I’m confident Carlene will be just fine. She’s a capable and resourceful lady. If you want practical and reliable, Carlene’s your girl.

She’s giving me an out if I want it. Immediately I realize, it’s the last thing I want. I want to finish the journey with her to be the woman I know she has the potential to be, the sensual feminine goddess. The other side of her personality she knows so little about.

I run my fingertips gently down her cheek. I can’t resist the need to touch her any longer. Her skin is warm and silky soft beneath my fingers. I angle my body in a little more to hers.

“I don’t have to go anywhere. The call, although annoying, was nothing more than that, annoying.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her everything, but they’re my problems, not hers. She isn’t paying me to listen to my problems. Client relationship, I chant in the back of my mind.

She nods slowly. “I want you to know that if you have to go or if you need to talk to your family or something, I’m okay with that. I realize you’ve been incredibly attentive to me, and I’ve probably been unreasonably monopolizing your time. I’m not sure how these things work or whether you’re supposed to have time out from me or what…?”

I kick myself for being a fool. I should have realized it. Carlene is a kind and considerate person, she’d feel awful if she thought she’s been imposing or somehow taking more than what she should.

“You’re not monopolizing my time. I’m here for you, full stop. It’s all about experiencing new things, seeing new places. This trip is all about you, and I’m honored to be the one who’s got to show you all these things.” I leave the “it’s what you’re paying me for” unsaid. It would have most definitely cheapened our time together, and what is between us doesn’t feel cheap or plastic in any way. In fact, it feels anything but and isn’t that confusing? Maybe, I really have been out of the game for too long if this is how I’m feeling?

I push my sunglasses up off my face, then do the same with hers. Carlene’s open, honest eyes will tell me the truth.

“I understand that. I guess this morning made me realize you probably need time to call people, do what you need to do in your life outside of this. It must feel like being in a cage, and I’m sorry I didn’t consider it earlier. I was too swept up. I forgot for a little while, I’m just a client.”

Her words cut at me far more than they should—an ugly reminder of what I’ve been inadvertently trying to forget.

And right here, is another moment, when I hate this job.

I want nothing more than to haul her into my arms and tell her it isn’t so. Tell her she means more to me than just money. Carlene can never be a cold, hard business transaction to me. There’s something deeper, warmer about her, about us together—never just business.

But it will also be a lie to say it isn’t about the money. Money has made our time together possible. After all, it brought us together.

“Being with you doesn’t feel like being in a cage, Oz. In fact, the opposite. It’s been great, and I hope it stays exactly the same. You’re special, Oz.”

Her eyes grow warm at my words, and a little breath puffs out in a tiny sigh.

“I’ve enjoyed every minute of being with you, far more than I could ever expect to. And I don’t want you to worry about monopolizing my time. You’re not. I don’t have anything pressing that needs my attention. Everything at home is under control and nobody is expecting me to check in.

“My parents live in Florida, and I probably see them twice a year, if we’re lucky. They have issues with how I earn my living. I have no brothers or sisters, and I certainly don’t have a significant other I need to worry about.”

The closest thing I have to family on the West Coast is Roxie. She’s an employee, a close friend, and the family I choose in a purely platonic way. My home is a modest house in a quiet suburban neighborhood. I don’t even have a pet.

But I can’t tell her any of this. So I go with escort speak. “I may need to take a few calls. I’ve had an unexpected business matter pop up. I’ll do my best to make sure it doesn’t cut into our time together or plans. I appreciate your understanding. I know the call threw you, and you started thinking. Stop. Live in the moment. For the duration of the trip, there’s nobody else, just you and me. I just want to go back to how we were before the call.”

Her head nods slowly in agreement. What I said is reasonable, but we both know it’s only as much of the truth as the situation allows.

Rules, they’re a necessary evil, to keep both the client and myself safe. Carlene understands and respects that, doesn’t mean either of us have to like it. I lean forward and lower my mouth to hers. I can’t give her the words and the truth I want to but I can give her this.

She tilts her head up and waits for me to slowly join my lips to hers. It’s a slow, soft kiss of understanding and unspoken words. One that portrays the truth of what words between us can’t. My body is as real as I can get—through it I can tell the truth, and I hope she can read it in my kiss and believe me.

Carlene presses closer to me, and I drop her hand to wrap my arms around her. Why does she have to feel so right against my body? I fear letting her go is going to be hell.

Our lips part, and rather than pull back, I place her cheek on my chest, and I drop my chin to the top of her head.

I need to take my own advice and stay in the moment, even if I’m becoming more and more tied up with feeling so foreign to me. I don’t think I’m going to want to let her go.

Don’t mix business and pleasure…

Really, how ironic when you’re in the business of providing pleasure?

Carlene

I said what I wanted to say and gave him the option. I can’t do more than that. If he has troubles needing his attention, then I’ve given him the opportunity to address them. It’s up to him if he decides to act on the option or not.

Just like it’s up to me if I’m going to enjoy the remainder of our time together or dwell on the thoughts which have plagued me since Rome took the call.

With words, he tried to sell me on the concept. Then why does his kisses feel like something very different? What is the truth?

Stay in the moment.

That is my new mantra.

Enjoy every second of the here and now.

Soak up the experience and leave the thinking until after our time together has passed. It isn’t as if I have anything pressing to do once I leave the US. I have a long plane ride and a non-existent business or social calendar. Surely, there will be time to figure out what I want to do in all that nothingness?

“Come on, let’s go and check out the drum bridge or half- moon bridge—it’s freaky,” Rome urges, gently adjusting my sunglasses back over my eyes before dropping his own back into position.

His hand slips into mine like it’s the most natural thing in the world and we head for the crazy looking bridge which seems to defy all logic and rationale. As we get closer, I realize the bridge is more like an architectural feat. There aren’t stair treads, rather it looks to be a cross between an old-style water wheel and a ladder! Pieces of timber are placed like rungs over the rounded structure.

The closer I get, the more my mind starts to boggle at how I’m going to scale it. Somehow, we seem to have missed the crowds, at least that’s something. There won’t be anyone around to see me fall flat on my backside.

“Are you sure we’re allowed to climb it?” I ask skeptically.

“Of course, we can climb it. In fact, it’s designed like this to specifically slow us down and put us in the right frame of mind to enjoy the tea house that’s on the other side. Come on, it’ll be fun!”

I glance at the bridge again and feel intimidated by its weird structure. “Well, it’s definitely achieved its intent. I’m slooow.”

He gives me a light tug on the hand. “Come on. It’s easy.” Rome powers up the rungs with me in tow. Before I realize, we’re pausing at the top to survey the beauty of the gardens from the higher vantage point.

“I thought it was beautiful before…”

“These gardens are just magical. One of my favorite places in San Fran. Wait until I take you to see the redwood trees. There’s a magic and a tranquility, you just have to experience to believe. This is special and unique. The redwood forest is different. It’s kind of all encapsulating. You’ll understand when you experience it.”

“I can’t wait. I really prefer these sorts of sights to the typical man-made tourist things. I love experiencing the more natural sights.”

Rome nudges me with his shoulder affectionately. “You’re not much of a shopper either, I’ve discovered.”

“I mostly hate shopping!”

He chuckles, and his mouth remains in a playful grin. “So not like a woman! There is, however, a little shopping experience I want you to have later. Will you permit me this liberty, my lady?” He gives me a sweeping bow a la English gent style.

I make a performance out of eying him suspiciously. “Mmmm, tell me more.”

“Nope, that’s not how it works. You just need to trust me on this. Can you do that?”

I immediately know I can and do trust him, however that wasn’t part of the little scene we’re playing out.

“I suppose so. You aren’t going to make me do anything too weird, are you?” Making him work for it is fun and besides, I’m not quite sure how far Rome will go. I know his life experience is FAR wider than mine.

“I promise you, you’ll love it.”

I raise my eyebrows at him. “Rome, it’s shopping. How can it be fun?”

“It just will be. I’ll make it fun.”

There’s only one thing to do. I let out a huge sigh as if it is the most tiresome thing I’m going to have to do. “I suppose I can tolerate a little shopping with a sales pitch like that.”

“Wow, you’re tough, Oz.” He laughs and plants a kiss on the top of my head.

For the first time since climbing to the top of the very peculiar bridge, I look forward and realize I am going to have to get down off it, somehow.

Panic runs through me.

“Umm, Rome. Without stating the obvious, but how on earth do we get down? My parkour skills aren’t what they used to be. In fact, I don’t ever recall doing parkour and getting off here looks like I’m going to need some of those skills.”

He moves us closer to the descent and even more dread races through me. We aren’t that high up, but the angle of the descent is ridiculous and totally foreign to anything I’ve ever been on before.

“Right, you stay there, and I’ll hop down then help you.”

“I didn’t realize I had a problem with heights, but this bridge is doing my head in!”

“Now she tells me!” he jokes.

He moves to the edge and nimbly makes it down to terra firma in a few graceful moves.

“I’m not joking. That descent is freaking me out.” Without conscious thought, I start to lower my backside to the timber deck of the bridge. I sit with my knees hauled to my chest, looking over the edge—frozen.

I can’t see how I can get down without going splat! Bridge, it’s more like an oversized barrel. Well derrr, Carlene. Following Rome blindly into all sorts of “adventures” is becoming a habit. I only hope this one has a happy ending like all our other adventures have.

I take a deep breath and look to the ground. If I have to go over the edge, I’ll be doing it with my center of gravity as low as possible. Like very low! Right now, my pride doesn’t give a toss about looking like a big scardy cat.

He looks up at me from his place on the ground and steps up a couple of rungs.

“Turn around and go down backwards like it’s a ladder. Hang onto the railing. I’m right here, I won’t let you fall.”

My heart is pounding wildly in my chest.

I’m being ridiculous. It can’t be more than ten feet to the ground. The angles just look all wrong to my eyes. It doesn’t make sense to my brain.

The railing is warm from the sun as I grip it firmly and turn around. Very cautiously, I step one foot down to the top rung.

“That’s it. You’re doing great.”

As I move down one further step, I feel Rome’s hand cup my backside, and somehow, I can breathe easier again.

“Just a couple more steps, beautiful.”

The last couple of steps are easy with him right there with me.

And just like that, I’m back on the ground.

I look up at where I’ve come down from and feel like the biggest fool.

“I’m sorry…”

He circles an arm around my shoulders reassuringly, and we head to the Tea House.

“Don’t be. You said it yourself, sometimes the mind plays tricks on us when it’s presented with something strange or new. It’s quite an optical illusion.”

Heights are not my favorite thing, but I live in a high-rise apartment and have no issue at all spending time on or looking over the balcony from the top of the building.

“I can’t say I love heights, but I’ve never had a response like that.”

He shrugs. “Just a weird sort of vertigo. Don’t worry about it.”

Easy for him to say. No, I’m not worried about it. More annoyed with myself for having such a crazy mental block about something as simple as getting off a bridge.

I’m still stewing on it when Rome stops and brings my attention back to the water.

“Look at that. The bridge makes the reflection of a full circle in the water.”

It’s remarkable. The simple yet complex nature of the structure casts such a beautiful shadow.

The circle is perfect—no beginning or end.

Just like everything else in the garden. Structured, without looking rigid. Considered, without looking contrite.

The balance is exactly right and the energy just flows.

A perfect state of order and balance of natural and man- made structures.

I wonder if it’s possible to achieve that same balance in my own life. Or am I chasing the mythical unicorn?

Standing here in the garden, soaking it all in, gives me the spark to want to try.