Cindy

The following Tuesday

I can’t wait to hear Rex’s side of the story after what Sammy told me. She invited him onboard her father’s yacht on Friday evening and didn’t let him go until late Sunday night. She’s definitely seen the light sexually, explaining orgasms and squirting to me as if I’m a virgin. I’ve never been sold on the squirting thing, but she swears it was real. I had a similar experience when Rick and I were first dating. Back when he could make my panties wet with his charm alone.

“Hey, Cindy. Sorry I’m a few minutes late. Parking is a bitch around noon,” Rex says, rushing through the door and immediately taking a seat across from me. “Well, your first referral is definitely a satisfied client.” He is literally beaming from ear to ear. You’ve got to love the look on a young man who thinks he’s got the world by the balls.

“I just got done with Sammy about fifteen minutes ago,” I tell him, unable to hold back a smile. “I’ve never seen her smile like she did this morning. She told me she stopped counting orgasms at five.”

“There were quite a few,” he says, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. “I can’t believe she’d never had one before. It’s not like it was difficult or anything.”

“With her it’s always been mental. She has always viewed her boyfriends as weak, even though she’s the one who causes them to be that way.” I glance back at a note in her file. “She believed that you were above all of that, so she respects you. You’ll never have a great sex life with someone you don’t respect.”

“That makes sense. I know how wealthy her father is. He’s in the upper echelons of the Forbes four hundred,” he informs me with a wag of his eyebrows. “Like thirty billion or some shit, but it doesn’t make a bit of difference to me.”

“So after the first encounter she offered you a thousand bucks to spend the night?”

“Yeah. I was totally cool with that. I’ve never slept on a yacht. It was cool as hell, even though it was sitting in the marina.” He adjusts in his chair, the way he does when he’s getting wood. “I’ll tell you. I’ve never had a weekend like that in my life. People would show up to make us gourmet meals, change the sheets and bring whatever we wanted. As soon as they left she’d want to fuck again.” His eyes widen. “Sorry for using that word.”

“That word describes exactly what you guys were doing. Good old down and dirty fucking. So, she gave you three grand for the whole weekend?” I ask, wanting to hear his take on it.

“Yeah. Three grand my very first weekend.” He literally looks like he has stars in his eyes. “If I just worked weekends I’d make twelve grand a month!” I simply smile, knowing that seems like all the money in the world to a kid his age. His total expenses are probably a couple grand, so he wouldn’t know what to do with all that cash. “Do I have to pay taxes on it?”

“As a U.S. citizen we’re all required to pay taxes on our income, regardless of where it comes from. If they pay you in cash, however, it makes it pretty hard for the IRS to track anything,” I reply, not wanting to give any advice in that area. “You’ll definitely want to sit down with a CPA who can explain how you should handle it.”

“That’s a good idea. I can see where this could definitely get out of control really quickly.”

“Going back to the client for a bit. You do realize that she’s simply trading one issue for another right?” I ask, seeing if he picks up on the problem without me telling him.

“Yeah, I know.” He squirms uncomfortably in the chair. “She wants to keep paying me to stay with her. She offered me ten grand if I’d stay through next weekend, but her dad needed her to take care of her mother. Otherwise, I’m not sure how I would’ve gotten out of it. It’s not like my schedule is booked or anything. She knows I’m new at this.”

“She’s totally excited about the fact that she was your first client. You haven’t been hoeing around yet.” I giggle, reiterating her words. “She actually talked about the fact that she would gladly pay thirty thousand per month to keep you to herself. But I told her that it will end up being the same as her other relationships. The basis of the relationship is still money instead of mutual affection or maybe even love.”

“I actually like her a lot,” he says defensively. “But yeah, I told her that I don’t like the idea of being a kept man. There’s something very demeaning about that. I’m sure she would get sick of paying me eventually.”

“Maybe not, but again she would lose respect for you. She’ll start treating you just like her past boyfriends. It doesn’t really matter whether or not you’re actually attracted to her. In her mind, you’re only there because of the money,” I explain.

“So, what am I supposed to do?” he asks, suddenly looking quite concerned.

“Keep it professional. Keep letting her know that you are there to help her,” I advise, knowing exactly what Sammy needs. “Also, limit her access to once or twice per month. Don’t be rude, but let her know that’s what is best. You’re a professional, not a plaything.”

“Exactly! I’ve been wondering how to handle that,” he says with obvious sigh of relief. “I didn’t even know what to say when she wanted me to stay for the whole week. Thank god her dad insisted that she come home and take care of her mother. I should’ve been able to handle that myself.”

“You’re going to learn just as much as your clients over the coming months,” I reply with a knowing smile. “You’re going to run into all kinds of weird situations. Speaking of which, are you ready for your second client?”

“Sure. Another one like Sammy preferably.” He smirks, both of us knowing the odds of that are pretty slim. “Is she at least a little cute?”

“She’s such a sweetie. She works with disabled children, teaching them to be as independent as possible.” I set Sammy’s file aside and open Suzette’s, turning to my notes. “She’s a sweet woman, who just needs a little self-confidence boost. She grew up in a family where she was the only introvert. Her sister was a cheerleader and her brother was an athlete, so she always felt like she didn’t fit in.”

“I can understand that. I grew up in a family of academic over-achievers,” Rex says, shaking his head. “When I got hurt they all felt vindicated for harping about academics. It’s not like I got bad grades in school. I was a solid b student.” He sits quietly with his arms folded, appearing to be stewing. “This woman must not be very attractive since you called her sweet twice while describing her. Hopefully you’re downplaying her the same way you did with Sammy.”

“You’re really going to like her,” I assure him with a giggle. “If you’re going to survive in this type of business, you’ll have to learn to see the inner beauty in people as well as their obvious physical beauty. Most of us aren’t born beauty queens.”

“As if you have any frame of reference,” he scoffs. “You’re gorgeous.” I feel my cheeks flush as I reach for my phone and pull up a high school picture of myself.

“Believe me, I know what it’s like to be unattractive,” I reply, showing him the picture that I keep as a reminder to keep working on myself. “It’s from my junior year of high school. I was as flat chested as any of the boys, had terrible acne and a really bad haircut. My gut stuck out about three inches further than my breasts.” I shake my head, recalling how the boys avoided me like a plague back then. “This picture changed my life. It kept me motivated to workout nearly every day since it was taken.”

“All these years later?” His eyes widen.

“Yes. All these years later, I still look at it whenever I don’t feel like working out.”

“And your flat chest?” he asks, glancing down at them.

“What can I say? I blossomed in college.” I clear my throat and turn back to the file. “I think we should schedule Suzette for this Friday. That way you’ll already be booked if Sammy contacts you.”

“That sounds like a good plan. What do you think I should do with Suzette?” he asks, looking for direction.

“The same thing you did with Sammy. Find out where she would like to go and treat her like she’s the only woman in the world. You did a fabulous job with Sammy by following your gut, so I trust you to do the same with her,” I tell him, hoping he’s mature enough to handle the task. Most twenty-one year olds wouldn’t have the tack necessary to pull it off, but something tells me that Rex will do just fine. His mother has raised him well, whether he wants to give her credit or not. The proof is in the pudding.