They scheduled a small but discreet hotel. She would arrive around eight, and he would arrive half an hour later. They ended the call. Isaac stared down at the phone and realised he hadn’t given her his name.
For the first time in a long time he was looking forward his evening. He thought about the photo Brad had shown him and the beauty of her eyes and the innocence in her face. She must have suffered much in her short life to feel she had to resort to an escort agency.
He waited for Brad to answer his phone.
“Hello,” Brad said.
“Noelle phoned. We’ve organised to meet tonight.”
“I hope she finds what she’s looking for. Don’t be horrible to her, and let her down gently. I don’t know if this is a good idea.”
“Why wouldn’t it be a good idea?”
“Lying to her. She deserves better than this. Promise me you’ll take care of her.”
“Of course I will.”
“Okay. I’ve got to go, and I’ll talk to you soon.”
Brad ended the call, which left Isaac staring at his mobile phone in confusion. This had been the other man’s idea. Not his. Flipping his phone closed, he finished up his day of work. He intended to leave early to prepare for his night. He had no idea what was going to happen. The whole idea was a stupid one, and he couldn’t explain why he was going through with it. Noelle sounded nice on the phone, and it was his own curiosity that had made him agree.
He left his office at five, drove home and changed for the night ahead of him. The moment he walked into his apartment, he went straight to the shower. He pulled all of his clothes off his body and spent ten minutes under the warm water. After he got out, he dried the water from his body and went to his wardrobe.
He had no idea what escorts wore. Checking out his clothes, he settled on a pair of black pants and a plain white shirt. He’d take a jacket to keep the chill off.
This would be the first time he met a woman without the back up of his bank balance. He wondered what it would feel like to be Isaac the man rather than the businessman with lots of wealth. Most of the people who came into contact with him knew more about his state of affairs than what drink he liked.
For the remainder of his time, he sat down at his office desk and worked some more. The work he did was a pitiful excuse for a life.
When the clock struck eight, he made his way out of his apartment.
****
Brad found himself at the side entrance to the club. The man guarding gave him a frustrated look and talked into his cell phone. Minutes later, Ben stood at the door looking furious.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“I only want to talk.”
Ben glared down at him and then turned and nodded at the guard. Brad was patted down and made to follow Ben round the back of the club through to his office. Semi-clad girls walked past him, but none of them held any appeal. He walked into the office and waited for Ben to shut the door.
“Have a seat.” Ben took the seat behind the desk and stared at him. “I’m pleased you’ve gotten help, Brad. I am. I know all about Noelle and the help she’s given you.”
“Thank you. I want to know what I did, Ben. I can’t remember much about that time. I know you were in my life, and I believe at one time we were lovers.”
Ben laughed. “You’re not ready to deal with what you did to me, boy. Getting involved with you was the biggest mistake of my life. I appreciate that you’re struggling, but my advice would be for you not to come round here anymore.”
“I can’t just leave like this.”
“Yes. You can. Tell Noelle I said thank you, but I think it would be best for both of us if you give me more space. I’m not ready to deal with you, yet.”
Brad wanted to argue with him. He held his tongue because he couldn’t find the right words to even try to defend himself. The fact that Ben had finally decided to allow him the time to talk even though it was to tell him he wasn’t ready, was success in itself.
Ben showed him out of the back exit of the club, and Brad watched him walk away this time, his anger cutting into him. He’d been the cause of Ben’s pain. He hated himself for the problems he’d caused.
Turning away from the vision of his ass moving away from him, he went along the street until he entered the nearest bar. He sat on a stool and looked at the lines of liquor bottles available to drown himself in.
The bar man asked him what he wanted to drink.
“Scotch over ice.”
Minutes later, the drink was placed on the bar. Brad stared at it. His world was once controlled by the small amount of liquid at the bottom of the glass. He lifted the glass and scented the whiskey. His stomach turned over even as his mouth watered for a drop.