CHAPTER FOUR
AMBER
I’d been deep in thought when Annabelle took a seat next to me in the teacher’s lounge.
“How’s Channing?” she asked as she opened her lunch bag.
I couldn’t actually tell her the truth.
Well, Annabelle, I’ve masturbated to thoughts of him every night since his arrival. It’s a problem.
“He’s great, actually. I’m really enjoying his company.”
Well, that was the truth, too.
She bobbed her head to the side as she looked at me. “You seem like you have something on your mind.”
I have a lot of things on my mind, and most of them are not safe for work.
“Well…it’s nothing…it’s just…”
“What?”
I thought up an analogy to explain what I was feeling.
“You know how when you’re on a diet…as long as you don’t bring bad stuff into the house, you’re fine, but as soon as someone brings over that box of cupcakes, all of your willpower is gone? That’s sort of what having an attractive man around does to the celibate woman. Being around Channing is making me realize how badly I need to get laid.”
Annabelle was laughing at me. “The solution seems simple to me.”
She just couldn’t seem to get it into her thick head that I refused to go there with Channing. Just because two people are single doesn’t mean they’re a good fit.
“I don’t know how many times I can explain it to you. I could never be with him in that way.”
She examined my face then said, “I worry that the real reason you’re afraid to consider that is because of Rory.”
The R word immediately triggered my defenses. “What about Rory?”
“A part of you thinks that Rory and you are going to get back together, and you know that sleeping with Channing would ruin that because Rory would never be able to accept it. Am I right?”
God. Maybe. Maybe, that was at the back of my mind.
“I don’t know. Maybe, subconsciously. There is no doubt that Rory would never get over it if something happened with Channing and me. That’s for sure. But first of all, even if I didn’t care about the repercussions of sleeping with Channing, I don’t think he looks at me in a sexual way. He never did. He sees me like a sister.”
“How can you be so sure of that?”
“I can’t entirely…but he could have almost any woman he wants. Well, everyone but some chick named Emily. So, it’s a safe assumption.”
“Emily?”
“Some girl he was telling me about that led him on then went back to her old boyfriend. I bet she’s out of this world gorgeous.”
He’d surprised me with that story. Emily must have really been something for Channing to want to consider settling down. That whole thing made me a little sad for him. I was jealous of Emily and kind of wanted to kick her ass for hurting my friend at the same time.
Her mouth was full when she said, “Have you looked in the mirror lately?”
“Yes, and I need to get my eyebrows threaded. Badly.”
“You’re selling yourself short. I’d kill for your body. Don’t let it go to waste. You’re only young once. We got to get you back in the game.”
Annabelle would often compliment me. With her frizzy, black hair, prominent nose, and stalky body, we were opposites physically.
“My problem is…I’m not ready for a relationship. But at the same time, I don’t want to just hook up with someone, either. There’s really no in-between. You know what I wish?” I looked around to make sure we were still alone. “I wish I had like a superpower where I could have sex with a man and erase the whole experience after, so that there was no aftermath or guilt. I would never run into him again. In fact, he would stop existing after that. But that’s just a fantasy.”
“Uh…no, it’s not. That’s called a one-night stand.”
“Well, you’d have to actually go out or online date to have a one-night stand. That sounds really daunting to me right now. I’m not ready for either one of those things.”
“You just want to get laid by the magically disappearing cock.”
I couldn’t help but laugh when I said, “You need to lower your voice.”
Annabelle squinted her eyes. She was giving me a weird look, making me think she was cooking up something in her brain.
“What do you have up your sleeve?” I asked.
“Who says you can’t have what you want?”
“What do you mean?”
“When you just told me about your little superpower fantasy, you reminded me of something.”
“What?”
“Okay, you know my cousin Shae, the single attorney who lives in Wellesley?”
“Yeah. You’ve mentioned her.”
“Well…the last time I saw her was at my sister’s wedding. She had a little too much to drink and began to open up to me at the reception.” Annabelle lowered her voice. “She told me that she went to see a male escort.”
Looking behind my shoulder, I whispered, “You mean a prostitute…”
“Technically, yes. But she said this guy was amazing both physically and personality-wise. She said it was one of the most enjoyable nights she’s ever had.”
“She only saw him once?”
“Well, it’s very expensive—like a thousand dollars for one night. Shae said it was worth every penny. Apparently, it was just what she needed to feel confident and sexy again. A little while after that, she started to put herself out there and began dating the man she’s now engaged to. But she attributes this escort with getting her out of the funk she’d been in. Not to mention, she said it was the best sex of her life.”
“Really…well, I could never do something like that.”
“Suppose you had the money, though…why would you say that you would never do it?”
She couldn’t be serious.
“Because he probably has some disease, for one.”
“Actually, I brought that up with her, and she said that they discussed it before they had any physical contact. He told her he gets tested frequently and is very rigid about practicing safe sex. He was very open about everything. They spoke quite a bit online before they met.”
“Wow. Well, that definitely doesn’t sound like what I envision a male prostitute to be like.”
“It wasn’t. I guess this company caters to the professional woman. They know that smart women want more than just a night of sex. They want to be with someone who is both sexy and intelligent. Honestly, if I were single and had the money, I would totally do it.”
I wasn’t sure I believed her. “Really? You would?”
“Why not? I agree with you that dating can be brutal. Sometimes, a girl just needs a good lay and nothing more.” She whipped out her phone.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m texting Shae for the information on the escort service.”
“Why?”
“Just in case you want to look into it.” She winked. “You can start saving now. Skip the gel nails and the lattes for a few months.”
“You’re crazy. Don’t bother.”
She ignored me and kept typing. “Like I said, can’t hurt to have the information.”
We’d been so wrapped up in this conversation, I hadn’t even heated up my lunch. I popped my bowl into the microwave, waited, and just as it dinged, so did Annabelle’s phone.
“Oh, she responded!”
I blew on the escarole soup. “What did she say?”
“Let me read it verbatim.” She paused. “It’s called Newbury Gentleman’s Club. They have a generic website. They obviously don’t advertise the fact that they offer more than just escort services. The woman who owns it has a direct email. Most of their business is through word of mouth, since they can’t be too blatant in their advertising. You contact this woman initially, and she gives you a password to a secure portal where you can choose the person based on physical attributes and a brief description of personality traits of the man you want to meet. For example, you can indicate whether you want to be with someone who’s rough in bed or someone who is more gentle. You can indicate preferences like blond or dark-haired, bulky or lean. They don’t show photos to protect the man’s privacy, but they guarantee that on a scale of one to ten on the looks ratio, all of their men fall in the ten range.” She turned to me. “God, this is better than being a kid in a candy store! Anyway, she just pasted the email address of the woman in charge but also gave me a password that she said might still work to bypass having to contact the woman in order to get into the secure site. I’m forwarding you all the information.”
That made me nervous for some reason. “Why?”
“Because I want to live vicariously through you. I think you should look into it.”
Annabelle had seriously lost her mind.
“And where exactly am I going to get this money?” I asked even though I wasn’t really entertaining this.
“Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”
I neglected to mention that I had quite a bit of savings, and that technically, money wasn’t the issue. I could easily afford the thousand-dollar price tag without denting my bank account because I’d always been smart with my money and saved a lot. That wasn’t the deterrent for me so much as my fear of disease and my pride.
***
A few days later, it was Sunday night, and my emotions were all over the place.
I’d just logged into Facebook to find Rory had been tagged in a photo posted by someone named Jennifer Barney. They were walking along the Charles River, both wearing athletic clothing. I assumed he must have been dating her. It was the first time I’d had to see him with anyone else, and it was absolutely devastating.
After thoroughly stalking her photos, I realized that Jennifer’s features were similar to mine, which made it all even worse somehow. He’d broken up with me to spend time with someone who looked like she could be my sister. And that burned.
I did something I considered doing a long time ago but never followed through with: I unfriended him to avoid having to see his posts. It was time. I didn’t want a front row seat to his moving on.
The condo was eerily quiet as I sat alone with my misery. Well, I wasn’t completely alone. Kitty was sulking on the other end of the couch. It was the first time Channing had left her alone with me.
He’d flown back to Chicago for the weekend. I was grateful for the reprieve, not because I didn’t enjoy his company, but because I was starting to enjoy it a little too much—his smell, his laugh, everything about him. It was also nice to not have to worry about what I looked like as I lounged around in my sweats.
But now I sort of wished he were here. He’d likely say something to make me feel better.
Desperately needing a distraction, I scrolled through my phone and came across the text message Annabelle had sent me containing the information for Newbury Gentleman’s Club. My curiosity got the best of me. Pulling up the website, I must have stared at the screen for over fifteen minutes.
The truth was, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the male escort thing since Annabelle’s and my conversation in the lunchroom.
My heart was pounding. Was I really doing this?
I told myself that I was just innocently checking it out, that I wasn’t really serious about it. An unsettled feeling in the pit of my stomach, however, seemed to contradict that. And an inner voice that felt new and untrustworthy was telling me that I deserved this, to put my carnal needs first, that no one needed to know.
A box prompting the user to enter a password popped up onto the screen. If the code that Annabelle’s cousin had given me worked, then I would be convinced that was a sign. If it didn’t work, then I would walk away. After I punched the code in, I was diverted to another site.
I was in.
The page was black with gold accents and sleek fonts. A slow and seductive piano tune played. The site featured a detailed description of the club’s services. You could choose from a minimum half-day experience, full-day, or even an entire weekend, which seemed to be the maximum duration offered. The full-day rate was two-thousand dollars with the cheapest option being the half-day rate at a cool grand.
I clicked on a link titled Meet Our Gentlemen. It was essentially a menu of men, each numbered Gentleman One through Gentleman Twenty. A disclaimer noted that for the privacy of the men, photos would not be provided.
I began clicking through each profile, reading the descriptions.
Gentleman One is an actor by trade. He loves older women, gentle lovemaking, and intelligent conversation. With blond hair, blue eyes, and a tall, lean body, Gentleman One is an all-American dream. Celebrity Doppelgänger: Alexander Skarsgård.
Gentleman Four was born and raised in the Dominican Republic. Known as our gentle giant, with his massive frame and strong, muscular body, he’s often mistaken for a pro-wrestler. Celebrity Doppelgänger: Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson.
I read through them all, eventually returning to the one who had stood out the most: Gentleman Nine.
Gentleman Nine is a Southern gentleman, raised right. He believes chivalry isn’t dead, and his goal is to make you feel as comfortable as you will feel sexy. Celebrity Doppelgänger: Matt Bomer.
He had me at Matt Bomer.
Underneath the description was a button that said Contact Gentleman Nine. I entered my email address where it asked for it to activate the chat feature and began typing.
Hi,
My name is Amber, and I can’t even believe I am writing to you right now. I don’t even know what you look like or whether you’re a psychopath. Well, given the fact that my writing to you is essentially synonymous with trolling for sex, I guess the shady one in this equation is me. I’m really not…shady. I’m not unattractive or desperate, either. I’m sure you see your share of those types, but I felt the need to let you know that I’m not…gross. I’m twenty-five, svelte, and have been told that I’m attractive, although I don’t feel that I am the proper judge of that. I just want to be clear that I’m not contacting you because men aren’t interested in me. I could definitely find a man to sleep with if I wanted to deal with all of the other things that go along with that. I am not looking for a relationship. This past year, I got my heart broken by the man I thought was the love of my life. And, well, since then, I haven’t felt ready or able to open my heart to anyone. Not sure if I ever will. Some days, I miss him and that makes me even angrier…because you shouldn’t feel that way about someone who dumped you. I don’t want to go off on a tangent here. I’m sure you’re very busy…very busy getting busy. I’m sorry. I know. I’m not very good at this. Anyway, the reason I’m writing you right now is because I’m starting to really miss sex. I’m wondering if one night with someone who really knows what they’re doing and who won’t judge me or expect anything more from me might be what I need right now. I don’t feel comfortable just showing up to a hotel room without knowing a little bit about who you are. And I’d also want confirmation that you don’t have a disease. Not sure how that will work. Anyway, I’d love to chat. If we can come to some sort of an agreement, then I would take the next step to meet you for a half-day session.
Best,
Amber W.