"Ah. But that was not the question. You really are a terrible listener."
"I'm a fantastic listener. How else would I know the difference of your breathing changing because you're flustered with me and it changing because you're fantasizing about me."
Brie pins me with a disgusted look.
"You do get used to it. And honestly, it hardly registers any more. I've had security details since I was in diapers, so no it doesn't bother me. They're sort of like family after a while and as you can see, you develop a relationship that allows an amount of respectable space when the time is needed. Believe me, having Swiss around is much better than Vincent, the guard I've been ditching since I was 15. He's rarely as understanding."
She hums, "I can't imagine having a ghost over my shoulder."
"It's one thing to become accustom to it and completely another when you don't know anything else."
Guards and details are mundane accessories at this point in my existence. From daily activities in the outside world to dating, they've never really registered as an issue. With that said the women I've spent the majority of my time around also have their own eyes and ears lurking around them. Brie's not the first but she is one of the few who aren't under a watchful eye. Yes, I'm sure in some subconscious part of my brain I enjoy that fact.
At the doors, Brie presents them with her phone where she has the tickets waiting to be scanned. Afterward, the oversized woman gives my attire a long strange stare yet keeps her opinion to herself and motions for us to move along.
Once we're inside, I question, "Which way?"
"We're gonna head to the left, but first I'm going to get something to eat. I'm starving." She glances over her shoulder at me. "And you're probably going to want to pick up some ear buds. Shit gets pretty loud."
"You don't need any?"
"I came prepared." She smugly smiles.
The urge for payback increases. "I'm going to snag a pair. I'll meet you in line?"
She nods and migrates towards the closest concession stand. Quicker than I expect, I manage to purchase a pair of ear plugs and maneuver my way back into the line where Brie seems to be unable to decide what she wants by the expression on her face.
"So what are we having for our first date?" I ask, shoving the object into my pocket.
"Only date," she mumbles her correction. Her eyes gravitate to mine. "You like nachos?"
I give the list of toppings a read. "Over processed liquid cheese, beans from a can, and questionable beef. What's not to like?" When the line begins to move, allowing us to order, I add, "It's all fine. Just no jalapenos."
Our eyes meet again. "You allergic?"
"No."
Brie turns back to the woman waiting and states, "One order of Monster nachos, monster size with extra jalapenos."
How did I miss that coming?
"One monster order of popcorn. And two waters." She leans over and drops her voice to an exaggerated whisper. "As you can see, someone is clearly trying to watch their figure."
The head motion my direction makes the workers behind the counter laugh alongside the couple behind us.
"Twenty-two dollars even," the woman announces, which is when Brie looks at me.
Promptly I question, "You don't expect me to pay do you? Did Mistress Lacey forget to mention that all accommodations during my service are to paid for by the client renting my time?"
Brie's eyes enlarge as it seems she's rendered speechless.
"Escorts don't pay for their own meals," I pretend to be in shock. Suddenly, I say to those who are listening, "Was it not obvious? I mean why else would someone wear something like this to an event? Miscommunication between her and my employer." The eavesdroppers nod their understanding and I let my eyes meet Brie's enraged ones. "Obviously."
Her bafflement remains yet the cashier speaks again. "Ma'am. That'll be twenty-two dollars."