Breaking Into the Business (14 page)

“I
took his card off his kitchen counter on my way out.”

“Stalker
much?” Pearl muttered.

“Whatever,”
I told her. “You didn’t experience the sex. I would have taken anyone’s card
that did what he did.”

“Okay,
then I guess I would have, too,” Pearl smiled.

“So
we met for lunch, and I was innocently asking him questions about his business,
and he was telling me about how unorganized he was, and I made an offhanded
comment about him needing a pimp. He asked me if I wanted the job and of course
I said no.”

Betsy
sat her glass down and burst out laughing. Soon after Pearl joined her.

“What’s
so funny?” I asked.

“I
just got a mental image of you being a pimp,” Betsy finally managed. “How funny
would that be to see you getting calls from desperate women and then booking
his sex appointments? Oh my god, I would pay a hundred dollars just for a
picture of that.”

“I
know, right,” Pearl agreed. “I’ll put my last two hundred dollars on that one.”

“Why
is that so funny?” I asked. “It’s just a business.”

Betsy
stopped laughing and stared at her a moment. “Wait a minute. You said yes.”

Pearl
slapped the table. “You did say yes. I can see it in your eyes. You want to
defend this whole notion of you being this ho’s pimp.”

“He
is not a ho.”

“See,
there you go. You’re already defending what he’s doing,” Betsy said.

“Is
there a problem with that?”

“No,”
Pearl said. “It’s just funny to watch you squirm like that.”

“Would
you two please get serious for a minute,” I pleaded.

“Okay,
I’m sorry,” Betsy said. “Now tell me how this could possibly have happened.”

“I
haven’t told either of you about my financial issues,” I explained. “Frank left
me with every cent we owned, but unfortunately his job paid much better than
mine, and it was his job that allowed us to live in the house that we do. I
don’t make enough by myself to afford it. I’ve been pulling from the savings
just to make the mortgage payment.”

“Then
let’s sell it,” Betsy said. “It’s a beautiful house and you’ve maintained it
immaculately. I could have it sold in days.”

The
waiter walked up and asked if we were ready to order. The other girls were
ready, but I hadn’t a chance to look at the menu. Since I had eaten here
before, I could mentally scan the few dishes that I had eaten, so I just
ordered a pasta dish that I remembered enjoying.

“I
can’t sell. The only way for my kids to stay in their school is to stay in this
house. I really want them to graduate from that high school as that will help
them get into the best college.”

“Why
don’t you ask your dad for money?” Pearl asked.

“Absolutely
not,” I said. “I would rather sell the house and get an apartment before I
borrowed money from them. They let you have money and then they dip their hands
into your life.”

“Maybe
you can find another job,” Betsy offered. “The editing gig isn’t panning out,
but maybe you can find something else that will bring in more money.”

“I’m
not qualified for the job that it would take to get the house and bills
covered,” I said. “I just have to make it until Mallory turns eighteen and
graduates and then I can sell the house, and I’m in the clear.”

“So
your answer to this is pimping?” Pearl said. “You are going to expose your kids
to this?”

“No,
definitely not. I pledged that I’m going to keep this away from my children. If
Greg comes over, it is just as a friend. In fact, I’ve set them up for that
already and told them that I had a new friend.”

“So
you’re serious about this?” Betsy asked.

“Dead
serious. I went out today and got a new cell phone and Greg has updated his ads
and cards with the new number. I’ve got a program on my computer that can
manage the schedule of a dozen men.”

“A
dozen men?” Pearl asked. “You’re going to be a pimp for more men that just
Greg?”

“I
don’t like the word pimp. Can you just refer to me as a madam?”

“I
can’t believe this,” Betsy said. “You’re going to become a part of the seedy
side of society and you are promoting prostitution. You are not that kind of
person.”

“What
do you mean
‘
that’ kind of person? And who says that there’s anything
wrong with making lonely people feel like they are desired. Even if I had hired
Greg last night, what would have been the problem? I’m sad and depressed
because my husband left two years ago without any explanation. So what is wrong
with the idea that I could pay a man a little bit of money and be happy for
just a few hours in my life. You act like male escorts are serial killers.”

“I
don’t really see a problem with this,” Pearl said. “I agree with Betsy that
this doesn’t seem to fit you, but I don’t see the moral dilemma.”

“I
can’t believe you’re supporting her in this,” Betsy said.

“Again,
I don’t really see the problem. I don’t want anyone judging me, so why would I
turn around and try to judge her. I work in insurance. I’ve had these old
people whose only form of income is their meager social security checks, and
I’ve denied their claims. I wouldn’t want Lana to sit there and tell me what a
bad person I am, so I certainly won’t tell her what a bad person she is.”

Betsy
smiled. “I was testing you to make sure that you really knew what you were
doing.”

“You’re
a jerk,” I said. I wanted to throw something at her face. “I want to hear what
you two have to say, even if it’s not necessarily supportive,” I said.

“But
you’ve already made your decision,” Betsy pointed out.

“I
have. From crunching the numbers, I think this will be the difference in
keeping the house or not. If I can get just a few more guys working under me,
this will work.”

“My
cousin Ray has always said he wanted to be a gigolo,” Pearl said.

“Wait,
your cousin Ray wants to be a gigolo?” Betsy asked. “Isn’t he five feet four
and two hundred and fifty pounds?”

“That’s
him,” Pearl smirked.

“And
isn’t he in his late forties?”

“Yes,
he is.”

All
three of us burst into laughter at one time.

Betsy
spoke first, “I don’t think there’s a market for fat men in the sex industry.”

We
laughed again.

“Wait
a minute,” Pearl managed between bouts of laughter. “He’s my cousin.”

“He’s
a nice guy,” I conceded. “I just don’t think that customers would be too
pleased if he showed up at their hotel rooms.”

Betsy
reached up, grabbed the wine bottle, and topped off their glasses. I picked
mine up and took a drink.

“So
you’re really, really going to do this?” Betsy said after she swallowed her
wine.

“Yes.
It’s strange, because I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. As
horrible as this whole prospect might seem, I can’t escape the feeling that
this is the course my life has to take. My children are my absolute main
priority, and it’s all up to me. I would never forgive myself if my children
aren’t successful and there had been something I could have done to help them.”

“You
know I’ll support you,” Betsy said. “I might not fully agree with it, but you’ll
have my support as a friend. Also, do you offer a friend’s discounts?”

“I
heard that,” Pearl said under her breath. To me, she said, “Girl, you know I
got your back.”

She
lifted her wine glass in the air, and then Betsy and I both lifted ours to meet
her. The glasses echoed off each other, and even in the loud restaurant, I
could still hear the soft clink of their collision.

Chapter Thirteen

The
following evening, I felt rushed to get ready for my date with Jeremy Towers.
The outfit was the most important part of the preparation, and I tried on each
of my new outfits to see which suited me the best for the occasion. I wanted to
toe the fine line between slutty and sophisticated. I had pantsuits, dresses,
skirts, and everything under the sun, but nothing felt quite right for the
world famous author.

Finally,
I settled on a dark green dress, which had a rather low neckline, but not too
low to make me look like a runway model. The real challenge came in finding a
bra that would work with the outfit. After going through each and every one
that I owned, I realized that the dress was meant to be worn without one. I
sighed and gave up the search.

In
the bottom of my closet, I found two-inch black heels that worked perfectly
with the ensemble and a small clutch that matched the dress.

Finally,
I was ready and I had two minutes until Jeremy was schedule to arrive. When I
walked out into the living room, I was not surprised to find both of my
children there waiting for me.

Jake
spoke first. “Wow, Mom, you look great.”

Mallory’s
eyes were big as she stared me up and down. “Damn, Mom, you look hot.”

“Watch
you language, young lady,” I snapped, and then added, “thank you.”

“Are
you nervous?” Jake asked.

“A
little, but I’ll be okay.”

“I’m
sure you’ll do fine,” Jake said.

“Are
you going to let him kiss you?” Mallory asked.

I
smiled. “I don’t owe him anything. Even if a man pays for dinner, you don’t owe
him anything, Mallory. If I kiss him, it will be because I have had a good time
and feel as if a kiss is appropriate.”

“I
don’t need a lecture, Mom,” she said.

“I
just want to set a good example for you.”

“Whatever,”
she mumbled and then went back to texting.

The
doorbell rang and I knew that it was go time. I had already prepared my
children for his arrival and asked them to stay in the living room. I planned
to greet Jeremy at the door, but not admit him inside. If I were going to date
someone, then I wanted to make sure that it was serious before he met my
children.

When
I opened the door, I was surprised to find a man in a suit waiting for me. I
stepped back when I saw him, wondering who in the hell had shown up on my
doorstep. Instantly, I thought of the husky voice that had threatened me for
money.

“Ms.
Ford,” the man said. “Mr. Towers waits.”

The
big man stepped back and motioned with his left arm towards the black sedan
waiting at my curb just behind my mailbox.

I
pushed past the goon and walked towards the car. If I were forced to rate the
first five seconds of the date, it wouldn’t have been very well. How could he
possibly think that sending his hired help to the door to get me would make a
positive impression?

When
I approached the vehicle, the back window rolled down.

“Hello,
Lana,” Jeremy said from the back seat. “Won’t you join me?”

“I’m
not sure,” I said, holding my clutch tighter to my body.

“Is
something wrong?”

“Are
you too damn lazy to get out of your car and come up to my door to get me?”

“Please
get in the car and I can explain.”

“Reverse
the clauses of your sentence.”

“Okay,”
he nodded. “I know that you have children, and I did not want to present an
uncomfortable situation where I might inadvertently meet them. I respect a
single mother’s prerogative to choose the time and place in which a potential
suitor might meet her offspring.”

“Oh,”
I said. That was actually a very sound and considerate reason for sending his
man up to the door to get me. Suddenly, I felt bad for causing such a scene and
had to ask myself how he would rate the first part of our date.

“I’m
very sorry,” he said. “I should have prepared you for that.”

“No,
it’s my fault for jumping to conclusions,” I said.

He
reached over and opened the door. I looked down and met his eyes, trying to
figure out if I should run back inside out of embarrassment or actually get in
the car. He patted the seat next to him.

Ducking
my head, I slipped into the vehicle. Before I had gotten comfortable, his goon
closed the door behind me.

“I’m
sorry again for all of that,” I said. “I promise I’m not like that all the
time.”

“It’s
no problem. Think nothing of it.”

We
made small talk on the short trip to dinner. He had chosen one of the classiest
and most expensive restaurants in town; one of those places that I would never
go to if I were picking up the tab. The prices were triple a normal place, and
the portions looked like an appetizer for an appetizer.

His
goon pulled up to the front where the valet driver was waiting to take the
vehicle keys. Jeremy announced our arrival to the maître d’ and he led us to
our table. As I sat down, I was shocked to see the goon sitting just two tables
over.