Chapter Three

Harper

“You’re leaving early? You never leave early. What’s up?” my assistant asked, her brow wrinkled in suspicion.

Julie Brown knew me only too well. I’d spent many a late night at my desk earning my workaholic reputation; apparently enough that my leaving early constituted an anomaly. What had my life been reduced to? Work, work, and a side of work. I shrugged on my new butter-soft leather coat and decided it was high time I changed that perception.

“Yes,” I said with a patronizing tilt of my head. “Contrary to popular opinion, I do have a life outside this office.”

Not.

“I thought this office was your life,” Julie said, flashing a grin that said she meant no disrespect as she collected my empty coffee cup from my desk. “Oh wait, I meant your empire.”

I winced. I deserved that. Ten years of blood, sweat, and tears had gone into building MediGo. I’d given it every ounce of my focus, and worn my hard work and dedication like a suit of armor. One that had conveniently shielded both my youthful insecurities and my painful, lonely life. Now I hid behind the result… the walls of my business empire.

“Yes,” I replied with an upward tilt of my nose. “Too true. I really should have a solid gold throne installed in here, and a crown encrusted with priceless jewels. Every queen needs a crown, right. Get on that tomorrow, will you?”

“As you command, Queen Payne,” Julie said, bowing her head in mock deference. For a moment, I thought she might genuflect. “Something exciting planned for this evening?”

“Just business,” I said as I wrapped a chiffon scarf around my neck and collected my purse. As in none of yours. I wasn’t about to let on what I truly had planned, not even to my most trusted associate. I felt embarrassed enough having engaged an escort service without making it public knowledge. “Have a good night, Jules.”

I left my ivory tower in downtown Rochester with a spring in my step that belied my trepidation over the evening ahead. No one would ever guess that Harper Payne, CEO and founder of MediGo, the first and most successful online medical database and social networking site in the world, was about to hire a gigolo. Man whore. Lothario. Libertine. If I stopped to think about it long enough, I felt like I might pass out.

Of course, those weren’t the politically correct terms. A ‘professional escort’ sounded much more acceptable. But the fact remained that at age thirty-two, despite all my education and accomplishments, I was still a virgin.

And I hated it. No, that wasn’t even close to being strong enough. I despised it so bad it consumed too many of my thoughts each day. Too much of my precious energy that could be focused on my business instead of my moldy vagina.

Most of my life, I’d been so self-conscious about my weight I never felt confident or natural around men. I’d dated some, even had a steady boyfriend in college up in Duluth. But it didn’t last. After several tries at intercourse, he finally said he ‘couldn’t get it up’ with a fat chick, and dumped me. I was heartbroken. If I had collected all the tears I cried over my lifetime, I was sure they’d have filled Lake Superior.

After that, I buried myself in all things tech. Computers and the internet didn’t care about your weight, your age, or your ineptitude in the bedroom. I liked math, I liked computers, and they both liked me. They became my perfect match. They were my companions and my teachers. But they could never be my lovers.

And I really, really wanted a lover. And intimacy. Part of my heart remained empty, yearning, and searching for something to fill it besides code, formulas, and cost-benefit analysis.

I went home, and as I got dressed for my date, I stood naked in front of the mirror and took a good long look at the new Harper Payne. Five-foot-three and one hundred and fifty pounds of curvaceous splendor, but much more toned than I’d ever been in my life. With the same determination I’d used to build my business, I’d shed my old body like a lizard’s skin and discarded it forever on the desert floor. I could barely see the tiny scars from my breast reduction surgery. My beautiful new full D tits stood proud and perky above my flat abdomen. Lasers had erased the freckles sprinkled over my face and body, and my blonde hair that flowed halfway down my back had attained a perfect platinum shade with the help of a high-priced hairdresser. An exclusive personal trainer was to thank for my Brazilian butt and sculpted thighs. But to what end? If a pretty girl stood naked in the forest and there was no one to see her, was she still pretty?

I turned away from my reflection. Enough with the self-inspection followed by deprecation, Payne. Tonight, I was in charge. According to Irene Sutton, a gorgeous man would be my beck and call boy, bought and paid for five figures. I told Irene in no uncertain terms I wanted a muscular man with plenty of testosterone raging brawn and a huge cock, who could screw my brains out to make up for the lack of his own. I didn’t want some intellectual pontificating over the state of my virgin pussy. No, I wanted a man who would know how to take charge and get shit done. Then I could toss away the dreaded V-card once and for all. And maybe then I wouldn’t be afraid of getting on with the rest of my life, maybe even sleeping with a man of my choosing.

I took a cab to Irene’s office, knowing her company provided limousine service for their clients. They certainly should for the prices they charged, but the money didn’t concern me. I had more than I knew what to do with, so I could spend it on a ten thousand dollar fuck every day for the next ten years if I wanted to. And since I’d used a fake name, I could do it with impunity and no strings attached. Exactly how I wanted it. Then I could finally get on with the rest of my life.

Despite my surface bravado, I still felt nervous as I approached the door to Irene Sutton Formals. I checked my dress, hair, and lipstick before stepping inside. Here goes… everything.

“Good evening, Laurie,” Irene’s sultry voice called as I entered. “You look lovely, dear. Please come in.”

“Thank you, Irene. You’re too kind.”

“Not at all. You’re stunning, and I know you’ll have a wonderful evening,” she said, walking toward me across the foyer. I knew she was sucking up to me because of my bank account and high profile, but I wolfed down the compliment just the same. Even after my transformation, they’d remained few and far between. “I have your theater vouchers right here, and the limo is waiting downstairs. But I must tell you, the escort you chose has come down with the flu and is unavailable tonight. I’m very sorry, but not to worry. I’ve arranged an alternate I’m sure you’ll like. An athlete. Let’s go and meet him.”

Alarm bells went off in my head, and every cell in my body rebelled. The only reason I was semi-confident about this evening was because I’d chosen the recipient of my V-card gift and he’d been fully vetted. Photos, a background check, and an online video had been provided that I’d reviewed until I knew his personal details by heart. I hadn’t put that kind of money down for a spin at the roulette wheel. I wanted who I wanted. With a sluggish reluctance, I followed her into a meeting room across from her office and exhaled a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding. She stepped aside, and…

There. He. Was.

It felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from the room. I struggled for a basic inhale. The man had his back to us, but I could still admire the breadth of shoulder and tight ass. This new dude was everything I could have hoped for and yet nothing even close to what I had expected or originally chosen. Tall. Handsome. Familiar.

I hissed in another breath so fast I almost swayed in my stilettos. I clamped my eyes shut until I could get it together. Not him. Anyone but him. There was no fucking way I could make it through this night, and I didn’t want to. But I couldn’t turn and flee right now like I wanted to without offending Irene, embarrassing myself and screwing up any possible chance of a reschedule with someone else.

God damn your inability to get this mercy fuck over with back in college, Harper. Now, look where you’ve found yourself. In a knee deep pile of shit with nowhere to run.

“Reed, may I introduce Miss Laurie Arnold,” Irene said in her practiced Emily Post style, gesturing to me with a dainty sweep of her palm. “Laurie, this is Reed.”

“Hello, Laurie. A pleasure to meet you,” Reed said, extending his hand. I took it, felt his strong fingers close over mine and hold them, safe and solid. Electricity flowed from his skin to mine just like it always had whenever he’d turned an innocuous touch on me. I looked into his green eyes and searched for what should have been there, but found… nothing. What a complete piece of shit. I felt the pain of the past envelop me all over again with a fresh wave of agony. Reed Matheson stood in front of me after fifteen years and had just met Laurie Arnold.

Perhaps it was all part of the job. Anonymity. Role playing. Was it even possible he didn’t recognize me? A hundred pounds and twelve years certainly changed a lot of things… for both of us. Reed Matheson, my childhood neighbor and once-upon-a-time friend, former pro hockey player and publicly-jilted husband, stood before me. A high-class hooker! How the mighty had fallen. Instinct told me to run, hide. Fucking fake a seizure if necessary. But I didn’t because my wobbly knees refused to move at my mind’s beckoning.

“Hello,” I said coolly. The revenge I’d dreamt about all through my horrific college years now loomed before me. Close enough to touch. To taste. Something nasty inside of me insisted that I play this out. No way would I gift a douche like Reed Matheson with the ultimate gift, but morbid curiosity about how he came to be in this position tugged at my mind and heart. The last time I’d seen Reed, I was crying outside our high school arena over words that still agonized me. Time might heal all wounds, but not that one. I’d really considered him my good friend until that fateful day. The day I realized he never saw me as anything but Bacon Payne, the fat girl he’d merely tolerated rather than befriended. He never knew how much he’d hurt me. No, humiliated me. Worse, he didn’t even remember it.

He didn’t remember me.

“That’s a lovely dress you’re wearing. It complements your eyes.”

He sounded like a kid rehearsing for a school play, reciting his lines. But he was right about the dress. I’d worn blue for that very reason, hoping to impress my date into actually pretending an attraction for me, making the uncomfortable situation easier for me through a little roll play.

“Why, thank you, Reed. You look very dashing yourself.”

Was that my voice sounding so calm and pristine? Irene handed Reed an envelope and stepped back, looking satisfied.

“Curtain time is eight. You’ll find your transport waiting downstairs. Have a pleasant evening,” she said, disappearing into her office with the silent stealth of a cat. If she had a tail, I imagined it would be swishing back and forth in contented avarice, anticipating her cut of the fees. The woman had just banked over two thousand dollars just for making a few phone calls.

Reed smiled and offered to take me by the elbow. “Shall we, Laurie?”

“Yes, of course.” He smiled at me, giving me his undivided attention. I would have done anything for him to look at me this way all those years ago. But I was a different person now. And I’d never be Bacon Payne again.