Love Story Of A Call Girl

"Let's cut to the chase. I'm afraid I'm not much one for small talk." He said, after I had lost count on how many times I had smiled at him.

"I understand. Shall we make a move to your place?" I asked, eager to cut to the chase as well.

He barely spoke. He did not seem engaging or friendly, and I would like to get it over with. He had a disillusioned look about him. I expected a rough, hasty round of i.n.t.e.r.c.o.u.r.s.e; after which he would be satiated. Then I would be on my way, never to see him again.

I looked at him, concentrating on the spaces between his eyes. Some clients had gazes which unearthed me. I did not always look at my clients directly but I was aware that I should give the impression of making eye contact. People reacted best when they feel you are looking at them. That was the basic rule of customer service, jotted down in my current notebook. Looking between their eyes made it easier for me to talk and perform what was required of me. I did not have to study them intensely. Getting too involved was a taboo. It compromised feelings and the job. A superficial acquaintance was adequate to do the job. All also etched like stone in the current notebook.

He nodded. He gulped through all the wine. I could sip elegantly no more. To be honest, liquor did not appeal to me, right up till today. I had always ordered red wine because Penelope told me that I would be considered one at par similar to my client's status in society. Furthermore it was considered classy to have acquired a taste for wine.

He settled the bill with a generous tip to the discreet waiter. We made our way outside, and we started to walk to his penthouse suite. I tried to keep up with him. He was walking rather quickly. Now and then he turned to look at me trailing behind him with my three inch heels which clicked and clacked along the pavement.

People stared at us because he was walking so quickly and there was a s.e.xily-clad woman who looked like she was chasing him. I, however, did not ask him to walk slower. I knew that I could easily beat his pace anytime I wanted, without those heels. Oh, for the want of looking the part of a s.e.xy woman!

When he turned around the corner, I had lost sight of him. But I did know where the penthouse suites were. I had done my prep work. They were a hundred meters away to the left from where I was standing. A spur of the moment thought told me to just walk at my regular pace and go to the penthouse suites there. No need to rush for a client who did not have the decency to wait for his escort.

As I started walking down the parallel row behind the restaurants, I saw him walking up to me. He had retraced his steps. He looked at me, rather annoyed.