I was praying it was a coincidence. There was no way in hell that the first girl I had found attractive in years was the one I had been hired to date … but you were. Our conversation that evening was the most interaction I had voluntarily had with someone since before my divorce. Talking to you was easy. It felt like I’d known you for years and we were just catching up. That was the first glimpse of daybreak in years of darkness.
“We texted and called often until we could go out again. I turned into a thirteen-year-old boy, waiting for my phone to ping with a notification, and I got excited that it was you or disappointed because it wasn’t. You brought me the layer cake to work, which was the first time someone had baked for me since before my mom died. You really have no idea how much that cake meant to me.
“Then, we had our date. Everything was going according to plan. I was supposed to text you that I wasn’t ready for a relationship, and then we would go our separate ways. But we went back to Mama Java’s, and the place was packed for the concert. I told you to hang out in my office, but you jumped behind the counter and helped take care of customers while on our date. That’s when it happened; you became the sun and broke the horizon. Your selflessness and kind heart don’t come along daily, and I knew then that there was no way in hell I could say good-bye to you. Not when I was seeing light for the first time in years. Not when your smile was my favorite sight in the entire world. Not when I felt the start of happiness.
“Mandy met me that evening, and I refused her money and returned the first payment. I broke the contract. I didn’t want money. I wanted you.
“It wasn’t too long after that when you told me about Mandy and Noah. I was furious and confronted Mandy. She threatened to tell you about our deal, and I panicked. The possibility of you walking away before we even got started scared the shit out of me.
“Then, Curaçao. Up until then, I was still working for CCI. The second day in Curaçao was our snorkeling trip, and while I watched you play with those turtles, I knew I was falling for you. The one thing I’d sworn I wouldn’t do after getting divorced was happening, and it was happening fast. I emailed my boss from the boat and told her I quit. Since that day, I’ve never looked back.”
Misha shifts in her seat and finally speaks, “How did you get into being an escort?”
“I met my boss in a bar after a baseball game in Baltimore. She offered me the job, but I kind of laughed it off at first. It was when I realized that I couldn’t keep my head above water financially by just the coffee shop that I considered the escort gig. I had Carrisa’s college to pay for, bills from Mom, my own student loans … I knew I’d make quite a bit, working with CCI, so I gave it a shot.”
“Did you ever sleep with any of your customers?”
“No. Absolutely not. I won’t lie to you; there were plenty of opportunities, but no. Not only was it against my contract, but there was also no way I could allow myself to do that.”
Misha picks the polish off her nails and flings the paint onto the ground. “I don’t know what to think, Jake. My head is in ten different places. My heart wants to believe you—so much that it hurts. But I know deep down that I need some time to decide what is best for me.”
This is definitely progress, and I’ll take it. “Understood. I’ll give you space. Just let me know if or when you’re ready to talk again.”
“Okay.” She stands and smooths her skirt over her legs. “I’m going to head back in and catch the rest of the show.”
“Here, I’ll call Carrisa to meet you, so you can go back to your seat.”
I pull my phone from my pocket, but she stops me.
“Let her sit up front. I’ll go up in the balcony with you.”
Fuck, that makes me excited. “You sure?”
“Yeah.”
She walks ahead of me and back into the theater, and it’s hard, giving her space when she’s so close.
31
Misha
Last week, I was about to give in to