I couldn’t believe the schmuck had actually taken up Lucy’s offer and contacted the agency. Yes, I had work, but it felt slightly under rated as I’d only been given it through somebody else’s doing. Leticia had phoned an hour or so after I’d hung up the phone on Lucy’s call and had told me that I had a booking for the entire evening at the client’s home.
At first, I’d thought this odd. Most of the clients that came to the agency were married, making their family homes completely off limit, and always booked fancy hotels instead. Then again, the perks of being in somebody else’s home, as opposed to a hotel room, was that if anything got broken I wouldn’t be in as much trouble, unlike when I’d once accidentally kicked my shoe off into the air and it had broken one of the room’s spotlights; the manager of the hotel hadn’t been too impressed with me that night.
I couldn’t question the client’s wishes or needs, though – rule number two – so prepped and pampered myself in the routinely manner which I always did before I met with a client. He was new. A first timer, from what Leticia had told me, and I was expected to make this night the most spectacular night of his life; meaning to make him begging for more and running back to the agency and literally throwing his money at us.
Seeing as it was his first time with an escort, I decided to tone it down a little. Instead of my usual seductress style attire, I selected a simple – yet very provocative – floor length red dress, which showed plenty of cleavage, in a shiny, glittery material; it screamed out Jessica Rabbit the minute you laid eyes on it. My make up was heavy, but not as much as usual, with gold painted eye lids and vivid red lips. I teased my hair into fine waves that protruded down one side of my face and across my shoulder. To finish the look, I accessorized with a pair of patent black seven inch heels, the same black gloves I’d worn to the opera and a simple pair of diamond earrings.
I gazed at myself in the mirror, dusting my cleavage with bronzer and spritzing myself with my favourite perfume. I was ready. I just hoped my client was too.
This couldn’t be happening. Had a got the address wrong? I looked back down at the text message Leticia had sent me: Flat1B, 902 Boxer Street. This was definitely Boxer Street, I only lived a couple streets away, but it hadn’t twigged that the club Voyager had been on this street the past two times I’d passed it.
Surely it couldn’t be… I mean, he’d seemed too sweet and gentlemanly to hire a stripper – my sister! – let alone an escort for the night. The address I’d been given was for an apartment above the venue so maybe it wasn’t for him. A neighbour, perhaps? Or a flatmate? If it was for a flatmate and I saw him there I think I probably would have been sick. It would be too awkward.
I approached the door that lead to the apartments above and pressed the buzzer firmly, waiting to be let in.
“Erm… hello, I mean, hi. You must be, err, Roxy?” A nervous male voice soon answered. I smiled seductively to myself, taking notice of the small camera on the buzzer in front of me.
“Are you going to let me in?” I teased, winking. The door clicked and the buzzer alerted me that I could go inside. I pulled open the light door and climbed the rickety staircase carefully, minding I didn’t stand on my dress and fall back down again. There were two floors of apartments. My client, Mr. Wells, was on the first story. Opposite each other sat the front doors to apartments 1A and 1B. I confirmed that I was visiting number 1B and knocked prominently on the wooden door. Waiting nervously, something Roxy would never usually be before meeting with a client.