Chapter One
I knew what I was about to do would forever change my life. Maybe not in a bad way, but it would definitely be changed. When I had agreed to take on this job I knew the dangers it would entail. You see, I am an entrepreneur by heart, but most would call me an escort. I’m not a prostitute, which is a very big misconception of the professionals in my career. This is not to say escorts don’t have sex with their clients, but I most definitely do not, well, not on every occasion.
I never envisioned myself doing this line of work. I actually aspired to be a teacher, but when I found out I had terminal cancer I let my feelings and emotions fall into a deep hole in the pit of my soul. It wasn’t until I met my current employer, George Santino, that my depression started to lift. He must have seen the desperation and despair that encompassed me, because when he offered to help get me out of the rut I was stuck in, I didn’t think twice before accepting. It was as if something inside me snapped awake and I could see clearly. I don’t know how it happened, but I knew I wasn’t going to waste the time I had left.
George wasn’t a pimp, which I know most people would assume him to be. He was more of an equal opportunist. Maybe he saw something that no one else saw, or maybe he knew what would erase the cloud of unhappiness that surrounded people? Whatever it was, he was good at it. He showed me what the work entailed, even went as far as to explain what would and wouldn’t be expected of me. He assured me I was not getting paid to have sex with men, but to be their arm candy, to make them look more powerful, more desirable. If I had any bad feelings about what George offered, or that he was lying to me, I would have bolted out of there. He was honest. After a year of going to expensive dinners, parties, even balls and operas, I knew my gut had been right about him.
My job wasn’t easy, not in the least. Having to entertain a man for an entire evening, laugh at his obnoxious jokes, even play house with him while in the company of his esteemed colleagues really wore a girl out. I was good at looking like I enjoyed myself and making a man feel like he was the only one in the room. I'd even kick out my hip and pout my lips enough to have all the other men jealous that I was on my date's arm, and not theirs. Maybe I could have gone back to school, fulfilled my dream of being a teacher, but I liked what I did, liked being envied by all the other females and lusted after by the men. It was empowering and made me feel alive which is exactly what I needed at this junction in my life. The newest assignment offered to me was going to prove to be my most challenging yet.
It all started when George offered this once in a lifetime opportunity to entertain a private and discreet party over on East Collins Street. At first I was stunned. Why hadn't any of the other girls with higher seniority jumped at the opportunity? Every house on East Collins was elegant, ritzy and screamed of old money. The payoff was sure to be big, so the fact that I had been offered it, and not Holli or Sara, who had five more years in the business than I, did seem odd and I’ll admit, slightly fishy.
It was then, when George was actually rambling off the details that I realized why no one else wanted to take it. You see, not only would the lucky girl get to entertain four rowdy men, but said men would be vampires. I wasn’t too shocked at the whole four guys scenario, what the real problem was, and why no one wanted this particular job I concluded, was the fact that it was four vampires.
In my world, the supernatural was the norm. Creatures of myth and lore walked right beside me on a daily basis. I had been out with the supernatural species, knew what they were capable of, how strong they were. The whole conundrum of this sticky situation was that we all knew what a vampire lived off. When one of them—or in this case, four of them—wanted to have a little company, a girl could get a little drained. Pun intended.
The other girls may have been able to turn this job down, but I needed the money. I had plans for myself, ones that didn’t include letting any more drunk men grope me or offer to “fulfill every deepest desire I ever had.” I had stashed away the majority of my earnings, but this job would allow me to finally go away—for good. I wanted to live out the rest of my days in peace, to be able to die comfortable and in solace. No one at work knew about my cancer and that was exactly how I liked it. I would only get their pity which was not something I thought I could handle.
Cancer could really put a kink in a girl's plans, and even though I didn’t want to die, I knew my time was running out. At first I was afraid of dying, feared the physical and emotional pain that came with it. I thought about everyone I would leave behind, all of the things I would never get to accomplish, never get to experience. My life hadn’t been one of wealth and riches, hadn’t even been all that happy or exciting. My mother and father had divorced when I was young, but not too young that I didn’t remember the daily yelling and screaming, punches and scratches. Maybe they had fought because my father had been an alcoholic, maybe because my mom had boyfriends on the side. Maybe it was just that they didn’t love each other anymore. It didn’t matter because whether they were together or not, my life hadn’t changed in the end.