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  My copper brown eyes blinked away the tears as I watched my thick dark-brown lashes blinking in front of me feverishly. I didn't need a man, an engagement ring or sexless nights to prove maturity. I was going full gangbusters career, and sex with the men I pay to escort me - was a thing of the past. Escort services in general were out of my repertoire. I was going to prove that I was a strong independent woman who was incredible in marketing and international sales, and I was not going to be doing it 'under' Cynthia for very long.

  I walked out of Prez's office with a new sense of intention. Nobody was going to mess with me now. And, as far as Christian and his little journalistic black mailing career, he wasn't going to know what hit him once I slammed the media with everything I've got on him. No amount of water was going to douse this firestorm.

  Chapter Two

  Two years later, I was thinking about Cynthia and her twins that kept her at home. Her soon to be ex, and her begging me to have her job back, underneath me. I would give her a day or two to squirm, and then I would hire her, as an office staff until she could prove herself with a bit more decorum. She was great at sales, just awful as a boss; however, I think she had enough bad experiences in the last year to realize we made better team partners then backstabbing employees.

  For now, I was on a stage talking to a room full of thriving business women, and they were hanging on my every word. I took pride in forging women ahead of the game, and now it was my turn to give back to them.

  I took an inhalation as I looked out to the room full of women there to hear me speak. I let a sensual smile creep across my face, and then I exhaled before concluding my speech. "...sexual satisfaction is one thing; dependence is another. All I am saying is... you can have one without having the other, and it makes building a corporate career a hell of a lot easier. It takes moxy and patience to build a successful high-end career as a woman. A man can only complicate things. I'm not old school. I'm new school, and I know exactly what it takes to make it up the corporate ladder. Having a man at home depending on you, expecting you to do the old school cleaning and cooking is not the first steps in getting to the top. No ladies, if you want a career like mine, you better climb on top and grab the bull by the horns. Hold on tight because it can be one hell of a ride." I listened to the room full of women clap and cheer as I walked off the podium with a huge grin on my face and clutched in the grips of my right hand was my third sales award this year.

  Speaking to a group of all women entrepreneurs with my 'from the hip' style I was known for was a bit scary. I was not sure how I was going to be perceived this time. However, these women seemed to have it in them to win it, but could they go without it for too long?

  I knew my desire was slowly building within me. The old cravings I had to have a man to come home to, a man to wake up next to. It went against everything I had been preaching to these women, yet it was the yearning I felt building inside of me. Instead, I tampered it down each time I felt it and decided to live the lifestyle I was choosing to live. However, it came with its pitfalls. Being successful in a career, with good looks and available, only brought out the rodents from between the cracks. Men who were looking for a sugar momma and sometimes the women only found out too late. I was not going to be one of them. I did not work this hard to get ahead by going without a significant other. It was not as if I was going without sex, I was just choosing to go without a man who depended on me - emotionally. The physical parts of men I had readily available in my little pink book ap on my phone. Men, ready at the touch of a text that knew what I was requesting and that my strings were not attached nor were they available. Keeping this charade up for how long, was only a matter of time.

  This was not my first time around the block. I had used escort services before. However, this one... this particular one, came at a high price and for a reason. They were top notch, classy and thoroughly discreet, which I needed. Nobody at my office needed to know that I was using a pretend boyfriend. Covering for the fact that I had no time to have a dating lifestyle, let alone the energy and concentration a relationship takes. I had been down that path, and it got me nowhere but frustrated. My career was first now, and that was how I made it to Director of International Sales at I.N.Zime International Marketing as a female at the age of thirty-three.

  A week later, I found myself sitting in a comfortable brown leather chair, across from an attractive intelligent man asking me personal questions about my likes and dislikes. I noticed two cameras on me that I could see, but I sensed someone was watching me from behind a mirrored glass window straight ahead of me. I found myself glancing that way and smiling flirtatiously. If I could not see my watcher, then I shall let him see me, my seductive side. I felt like I was putting on a show for someone with the way I flirtatiously answered questions and poised myself. The camera lighting felt a bit blinding from time to time when I tried glancing towards the mirrored glass, so I would glance away and look down with a smile and light laughter before I would look up and answer the gentleman's questions.

  Zachery was his name, the gentleman asking me personal preference questions as to what I liked in a man, what I preferred his background to be, and how he should dress for my arrangements. Those arrangements would be, a man on call for social engagements so it looked as if I had a boyfriend, without all the hassle. This would be my solution to my pending problem in work social situations. I know; I had sworn I would never use an escort service again, yet this service guaranteed incognito and professional. With what they charged, I doubt they wanted to mislead their potential clients with another Christian. I had no time to find a date and let I remind you the type of men I had on call for sex, were definitely not the type of men who should be integrating into my social work life.

  This whole thing came about when a female Japanese executive from our top clientele list explained to me how a successful woman from Harvard, had three kids and a gorgeous intelligent boyfriend yet was able to be the president of such an elite company that was successful, look incredible at forty-five and keep it all together. This questioning ensued over sushi and Saki, too many Sakis, or I do not think she would have divulged her secret.

  The ex to the three kids they share, lives in Hawaii and has them every summer. All summer. The three kids attend private school during the school year along with two full time live in nannies. The gorgeous intelligent boyfriend was practically mail ordered from a discreet private escort company. She had never slept with him; he was only arm candy for all the social events, poised for pictures to keep the barracudas at bay - those being the men who want her for her money and status. In a rambling conversation, she carried on how if she must really admit it, her staff was her success, but she did not always want them to know that. It kept them on their toes a little easier that way. By nights end, I had only a phone number to what might be my saving grace to one of the very dilemmas I seemed to be having myself. That phone number connected me to a very elite and discreet escort service that guaranteed I would not be getting another Christian Conner. I had my hesitation in doing this again, but her words of guaranteed success not only with herself but a list of camaraderie females in the business that could contend that this service was a god send legit.

  Being single, yet making the money I do and looking top of my game had me spending more time fighting off potential barracudas. When what I really wanted to be doing was make that large bonus this year by concentrating on my clients. This seemed like the best solution to my problems, although it came with such a high price tag, I had some reservations as to if it would all be worth it.

  Zachery's smooth timber voice brought my attention back to him from the wayward thoughts that kept popping up in my head. "Jennifer, what would you describe as your best features?"

  I glanced off at the mirror I had used earlier to fix any stray hairs. I caught my reflection, mentally said my name to myself. Jennifer mysterious Everest, what are your best features?' I looked deep into my copper brown eyes that had always caught men
's attention. I had round sensual eyes with just a curve to the end that gave me an erotic look. Long dark eyelashes that came with my auburn-brown hair, which was recently colored with a hint of dark dominance look to it. My hair now shoulder length, was always styled in a professional fashion, but today, I had chosen to wear it with a few large soft curls. My skin had a soft golden glow, thanks to an expensive spray tan salon that came to my office discretely once a week. I did not have the time otherwise. My height of five foot eight out of heels could offend a shorter man; I would need a tall man. My athletic build often had to be supplemented with push-up bras to show the curves I desired in low cut attire. I stared at my reflection long enough to make Zachery uncomfortable that his voice filled the room with a second question. "Let me ask you it this way. If you could describe yourself like a product to someone with only a few descriptive words, like say strict, confidential or stylish and smooth. What words would you choose? This helps us in placing you with the appropriate male to stand next to you and compliment you in all the social settings."

  So, he wasn't looking for descriptive words to my looks, more the person I am. I glanced back at the reflective mirrored window and smiled seductively. "If I was a product. I would describe myself as mysterious, sensual, seductive, sensible, persuasive, priceless, one of a kind, unusual, did I say persuasive?"

  Zachery laughed. "You did. Those are perfect words to describe what I have discovered from you so far. So, my next question is something that I am sure you know already. Describe your perfect man. The type of man you want next to you while you work your magic. The type of man, that when you take him to these social engagements, you can feel proud of the choice we have selected for you. Then describe to me what preferences you have in the looks department."

  I was attracted to tall men with dark hair and handsome, but I had dated several types from Spanish to British to Asian to black. It was my traveling abroad that always had me attracted to new and interesting men. Growing up and attending college along the California coast, the one type of man whom I just had enough of was the blonde surfer boy. They no longer held any interest for me. I only felt a deep attraction once to one particular surfer boy and then never again. I cleared my throat quietly and proceeded to describe the type of man that I needed to fulfill this position. Because that was what it would be. No sexual contact, just gestures that made it look so. When we had our picture taken together for publicity, he needed to look at me like desire and sex. However, he was not getting either. I had contacts for that. I could dial my little pink digital book and get any number of sexually satisfying men with a punch of a few digits. However, that was not why I was here. I was here to find a man that could fill the void the corporate world needed me to have, in order for me to get my goals accomplished, and sales completed. I needed an escort for hire who would be employed by me, did what I said, attended what functions I needed, wore the clothes I needed and nothing more.

  If I wanted anything more, I would get it myself, not through a service. At thirty-two, I had been around the block to know; that marriage and kids were not for me. They were only distractions in life I didn't need. A good orgasm, I could accomplish myself. A sensual lover was something I could get easily. What I needed now, was just a good-looking intelligent man to stand next to me, sing praise about me, attend functions and not expect me to pick up his dry cleaning or cook him a meal after a long hard day at work. I had Henry for that, my personal chef who cooked healthy gourmet meals for most of the corporate executive single neighbors who lived along the beachfront area where I lived, off the coast of Santa Barbara.

  I looked at Zachery and smiled seductively then I glanced to the reflective window and proceeded to describe the very man I felt would be perfect for the job. "Tall. At least six feet. I prefer men with dark hair but have no preference as to the skin color. I like a man with strong features and a smile that seduces women. I need the man that stands next to me, to be able to flash his flirtatious looks to a possible client, male or female and make them cream their panties or get rock hard. I have a lot of gay clients that I deal with, and I need the man who stands next to me, make them want my man." That got a soft laugh out of Zachery as he used his digital pen to write notes on his iPad, occasionally tapping the side as if he was indecisive as to how best convey that message to his notes.

  "I need an athletic man. Sometimes client meetings can take place on a tennis court, a golf course or even bungee jumping. I need a fearless athletic man. One that is not afraid of water. There are a few snorkeling excursions I need to take him on. No hairy backs." The last sentence got an even louder chuckle out of Zachery, and if I did not know better, the man that was watching me from behind the glass was laughing as well. That man, I presumed to be Trey Masterson. Retired surfer beach bum, made millionaire by coming up with this Johnny come lately company not but three years ago after taking a bad fall off the Australian coastline.

  I had done my research, and this private elitist company was not so hidden as much as he would like. Women cannot keep their mouth shut when they find a good thing, just like a shoe sale. This company he had built to take rich women's money was building fast. Rumor had it; the business was just shy of being bought for the right price. Owning an escort service with any benefits a rich woman could desire was a hot commodity. I also knew that he never dated the clients, which was fine by me. I was not into blonde surfer boys who never grew up. However, I was enjoying the fact that I knew he was watching me right now, analyzing me and figuring out what potential man he should match me with. Because I knew if he got me the right match, I could get him more international business than he knew what to do with. I was known for being good at what I do, and making the connections I had made over the last eight years of international marketing.

  A tap on the reflective mirrored glass caught my attention, and I heard Zachery apologize. "Sorry. That's my boss asking me to wrap this up. We've got interviews waiting down the hall in the other meeting room for you. We did a casting call, so to speak, off your original answers online but this one on one interview gives us tape feed to see what we might have missed, and what we need to be looking for. It's all very... how shall I put this?"

  I laughed. "You don't. I get it. I really do. If I was a man looking for a female escort, it would be like selecting a car. I want the leather seats that heat and cool. The steering wheel that is heated in the cold. The brake assist." I started to laugh then I stopped at the second rap on the reflective glass window.

  "Ok. Zachery. It's like this. Tall, mysterious and handsome. A killer smile with athletic abilities that make us look like the winning team. An intelligent sense of humor with worldwide knowledge about foreign countries. He must know how to dress for the occasion and be flexible with time. In other words, I want your premium package. He needs a passport and can travel on short notice with my company's private plane. He has to have the ability to memorize facts about dates and things we did that never actually took place. He has to look at me like a steak dinner that is tender and ready to be eaten, but he can't eat me." We both broke out in laughter at the last part.

  "In other words. I want no sexual contact with this man past the physical touches that he will offer to me in public, to make it look like we do. However, we don't. I don't want that complication. I need a man who will understand this is not personable but business. He cannot make future contact with any of the elitists that I put him in touch with down the line, or they will know this is a sham. I need utmost discretion, and I am willing to pay a premium price for the man I select. I want to go out on a few dates in the next few days with some choices, and then I will let you know."

  "Fair enough." Zachery stood up and offered me a hand to help me out of the brown leather chair I had been sitting in for the last half hour. He set his hand softly to my lower back and escorted me out of the room, past the door that I was sure held Trey Masterson in, who had been watching me.

  We walked down a long hallway, out a private door, that le
d to a side building, which had an incredible outdoor garden attached to it. As I got to my convertible Mercedes, I saw the parking lot to my right filled with a variety of cars, mostly convertibles and sports cars with a few small two-door cars. Cars that most likely belonged to the men being interviewed right now. I had to wonder what kind of men came out for a job call like this, and then I looked down and shook my head at the thought. Not just the economy could make a man do a job like this but the intrigue of the game and the amount of money they made to just stand next to a woman at her disposal was phenomenal. Not to mention, I had heard a few of these escorts actually ended up marrying the women who would never have given their poor asses the time of day before the services. Now they were living La Vida Loca and realizing the lifestyle of the rich and successful isn't what it's always cracked up to be.

  As I started my Mercedes up and lowered the convertible top down, I took one last glimpse into the beautiful outdoor landscaped garden I just walked through. It was one of those things my beach side home did not have. I didn't have the time nor did I have the skill to garden like that, but I would surely like to have one. I'd have to think about that in my spare time, hiring a landscaper for my property. I wondered why this garden was here in such an unusual place. An office suite just blocks from the coast yet it was like someone lived here. I saw the door open and out stepped none other than himself, Trey Masterson. His tall height created a presence that made me do a simple internal word. Yum. His blonde hair, tanned skin, green eyes and a killer smile gave him a double yum. His broad shoulders showed through on the simple white men's tank top he was wearing. His tan muscular legs were hidden from the big khaki cargo shorts he had on and that had me thinking about taking them off. He was not my normal attraction of tall and dark. However, he was definitely more handsome than the picture I saw. I felt something stir of a memory long ago then realized it could not be. Then he turned and looked over to me after bending over and picking up a bright salmon colored Hibiscus flower. I watched him look at me and smile, and then he walked towards me with the flower in hand.