The Doctor's Fake Nanny(53)

Whew! Life in the city. She decided she'd be very careful about  separating her new job and anything else that happened in her life.  Coming or going, she'd be in low heels with a coat concealing whatever  she was wearing. She had to see about getting a locker at the agency.  She never wanted this to happen again …  ever.

She looked at the time and realized she needed to get ready for her  first night of work as an escort. She slipped off the robe, carefully  removed her new dress from the hanger, and slipped it over her head. In  the room's tiny mirror, she adjusted the dress around her body. She  turned around and looked over her shoulder. Yes, she looked good. She  turned back and brought her face close to the mirror.

Her dark curls were full and framed her face with her new haircut. She  fluffed her hair. She studied the lines of the make-up Sheena had  applied with such skill. The arched eyebrows, the shaded lids, the dark  mascara framing her brown eyes. Somehow the blush on her cheeks  highlighted her bone structure without looking as though she had painted  cheeks. The dark ruby lipstick brought out the fullness of her lips.  She'd never realized before what a difference make-up could make.

After all the work Sheena had done, she didn't look painted. The make-up  enhanced her features without being noticeable as make-up. She had to  admit she looked good. Sheena had given her a small compact of the  lipstick and a retractable lip brush. She pulled them out and refreshed  her lips.





She took one more good look in the mirror and liked what she saw, then  retrieved a long coat from the closet. She looked around the tiny, grim  room. One glance was motivation enough to get out of there as soon as  possible. Fred just added to that motivation.



She took a breath and whispered to Dee. Okay, here we go, baby child.





Chapter Twelve




The look Ms. Tillie gave her was nothing short of incredulous.

"Oh my God!"

"You like?" Cassidy teased, pirouetting like a runway model.

"Uh-huh. You look sensational!"

"Thanks for the tip. I found this dress at the boutique, and Sheena  volunteered to do my make-up. Good thing, too, as I probably would have  just washed my face and called it good to go," Cassidy laughed.

"Make-up should be your friend. Look at you. You came in this morning looking like a girl. Now you look every bit a woman."

"Well …  too bad all these things will just go to waste. I'll probably sit out the whole night. You know, being new and all."

Ms. Tillie had a twinkle in her eye when she replied, "That's where you're wrong. I have someone for you tonight."

"You do?" Cassidy answered, alarm in her voice.

Even if she had agreed and signed the contract, she wasn't really sure  if she'd go through with this. She had managed to compose herself with  the thought that tonight she'd make friends with some of the girls and  learn from them. Ms. Tillie's announcement threw her off guard.

"Yup, the guy is a regular and all the girls say he is great. Pays well,  too. The girl I sent over this morning didn't work out, but he took her  to lunch and paid her just the same."

"What went wrong with the girl this morning?" Cassidy was curious to  know. That would be just her luck rejected on her first date.

"Probably not his type …  I don't know. You'll have to find out for  yourself. And, oh …  by the way, he sent cab fare and the address where  you'll meet him. Here!"

Cassidy accepted the small piece of paper with trembling fingers.

"Cassidy, I know you're nervous but I think this guy is perfect for you. That's why I decided to send you to him."

"Perfect? Why is that? I mean, you don't really know me. We just met earlier today."

Ms. Tillie smiled. "Cassidy, I've seen a lot of girls in this business.  You're young, beautiful, and starving for work. All the girls tell me he  is not only a gentleman but truly interested in who they are as a  person. Two of them even used the word respectful. I don't know of a  better recommendation for a first date. Plus, he likes women of color. I  think he prefers dark glamour. You are just the ticket."

Cassidy swallowed the lump in her throat, nodded her head, and thanked  Ms. Tillie who handed her cab money. She headed outside and hailed a  passing taxi.

"The Carlton House, please."

Cassidy had never been to The Carlton, but knew it was one of the most  coveted residential addresses in NYC. The man must be rich. She wondered  why he would need an escort for the night. And what happened with the  girl Ms. Tillie sent earlier? She had simply said, "it probably didn't  work out." Cassidy wondered what that meant. What did the guy want that  the escort couldn't give him? The thought was slightly unsettling.                       
       
           



       

Cassidy was mesmerized by the collection of haute couture ateliers and  boutiques as they passed Madison Avenue. This area was among the world's  most fashionable shopping destinations for the rich and famous, and  just a stone's throw away from Central Park.

She recognized the brick and limestone exterior of The Carlton House as  the cab came to a stop. She paid and stepped out onto the pavement,  willing her heart to stop beating wildly inside her chest.

A white-gloved concierge opened the door that led to the lobby, its  marbled mosaic floors reflecting the modern architectural lights hanging  from a domed ceiling. Muted sofas in mink and pearl colors were  clustered strategically around a gas-fed fireplace. Cassidy tried to  ignore the unease she felt in such luxurious surroundings as she  approached a receptionist behind an alabaster desk.

"The penthouse, please … " Cassidy muttered, looking at the piece of paper  with the address written on it. Ms. Tillie must have overlooked the  name of the client.

"Take the private elevator on the left. That will lead you directly to the seventeenth floor," the girl answered coolly.

Cassidy couldn't help thinking that the receptionist knew what she was  here for, but she brushed the disquieting thought aside as she entered  the lift. She instead focused her thoughts on her baby back home and the  reason why she was doing this.

"This is all for you, Dee," she whispered to herself, and somehow the notion made her feel braver about tonight.

The elevator hardly made any noise as it came to a stop on the  seventeenth floor. The carpeting was lush on the hallway floor that lead  to a lone door with the number seventeen written in italics. It was the  only unit in the entire seventeenth floor.

She drew a deep breath and pulled back her shoulders as she knocked to announce her presence.

"Come in, please …  the door's open," a male voice hollered from inside.

Cassidy pushed the door open and entered the foyer. She gasped as she  noted the spacious living room with its wide glass windows, bringing  into view the grandeur of nighttime New York. Her heels clicked softly  on ebonized white oak flooring as she made her way to the salon that was  furnished in blue, black, and grey. A cloisonné dish with scalloped  rims and candlestick holders of the same design decorated the mantel of  the fireplace. Potted indoor plants in brass bowls were scattered  everywhere, giving the whole area a relaxed ambience.

The living room was bordered on both sides with hallways leading to  different parts of the penthouse. An open stairway lead to the upper  floor, which Cassidy surmised must be the eighteenth floor of the  Carlton House. She wondered where the owner was. She heard the distinct  sound of water flowing from the hallway to her right.

A voice coming from that direction called out, "Make yourself  comfortable …  there's food in the fridge if you're hungry. Taking a quick  shower …  be with you soon."

He seems friendly enough …  sounds young, though. I would have thought  it'd be someone older. Look at this penthouse. It definitely reeks of  money, Cassidy mused as she sauntered towards the glass windows.

The view from up here was truly beyond words. The lights of New York  brightened the night sky. She recognized landmarks. It was like owning  the city. No wonder he had this place. Money could bring that easy  feeling of ownership. She knew that view was probably more expensive  than the penthouse itself. She wondered about the man who lived here.  Did he even appreciate what he had just outside his window? Probably  not, she opined with a grimace. He probably takes all these for granted,  she thought, glancing at the lavish furniture littered all over.

Without realizing that she was working up a snit, she added,  … Like  hiring an escort to keep him company. What's wrong with going out and  meeting someone? Normal people do that, don't they? Unless he can't be  bothered because paying for a woman's company is easier to do.

And then a nasty thought assailed her. Maybe he's disfigured or  something? But he has so much money he'd have no problem getting  cosmetic surgery, for Christ's sake. What's wrong with the guy?