Maybe

10

Miranda Rodriguez.

MIRANDA DOESN’T LIKE the way the limo driver keeps looking into his mirror, staring at her. It’s nearly midnight, the road shiny, slick with rain. It wouldn’t do to have an accident. She presses the button on the armrest and holds it while the glass between her and the driver goes up. She continues holding the button until the thick material of the divider rises to block his view completely. She doesn’t want to be rude, but he seems to know what she’s up to, and he’s made her uncomfortable.

She takes this opportunity to call her new best friend, who says, “Miranda! Hi!”

“Did I wake you?”

“No, of course not! I’m a night owl. What’s up?”

“I’m meeting Donovan Creed tonight.”

“Yes.”

“You…knew?”

She laughs. “How could I possibly know?”

“You don’t sound surprised.”

“It was my first thought why you might call me this late.”

“He’s flying me to Louisville on a private jet.”

“And you’re excited.”

“Yes.”

Her friend’s voice is warm. “You like him,” she says.

“I do, Rose. A lot.”

“That’s good. I’m so happy you do.” Rose pauses, then adds, “It’s late. Are you tired?”

“I’ll sleep on the jet.”

The two friends are quiet for a moment.

Miranda says, “I’m excited and scared at the same time.”

“Enjoy the feeling. And remember everything we talked about.”

“I will. And thank you so much for everything!”

“It’s an exciting time for both of us,” Rose says.

Three hours later, Miranda knocks on Creed’s hotel room door.

11

Donovan Creed.

MIRANDA LOOKS LIKE a million bucks. By the time I shut the door behind us, she’s on me like fire on a match head! Between kisses it dawns on me the polite thing to do is offer her champagne, but then I realize propriety-like Miranda’s clothing-has been left at the door.

“Do me!” she says.

I smile. “Right now?”

“Do me!”

“No drinks or chitchat?”

“Do me!”

I do her.

Then roll onto my back to catch my breath.

After a few minutes Miranda says, “Are you comfortable?”

“And then some.”

She sits up in bed, flashing a sly smile.

“I hope you’re not too tired,” she says.

“Because?”

“Because sex is like pancakes.”

“Pancakes,” I say.

“Uh huh.”

“Do tell!”

“When you make pancakes, you always toss out the first one.”

“Ah. And that’s because?”

“The purpose of the first pancake is to get the skillet warmed up just right.”

“In this example, which of us is the skillet?”

“That would be me,” she says.

“And this means?”

“I’m going to rock your world!”

“Right now?”

“If we haven’t used up all the batter.”

I sit up, figuring we’ll start with a kiss. But she pushes me back gently and says, “I’ll take it from here, Flapjack!”

“Okay.”

There are two absolutes where hookers are concerned.

One, cash is king.

Two, you get what you pay for.

The escort food chain ranges from street walker to courtesan. Top of the list initials include C, PS, and GF, in that order, and less than one percent attain it.

GF stands for girl friend experience. Young ladies fresh in the business naively offer clients a girl friend experience, a claim that triples their hourly price. But it’s usually unsustainable. Before meeting the first client it seems plausible a young lady could fake a warm smile, be super friendly, and tongue kiss Richard Gere from Pretty Woman, and-oh yeah, have romantic sex with him.

But the guy who shows up to claim her kisses looks nothing like Richard Gere. In fact, he probably looks a lot like the very men she finds disgusting, and would never look at, much less kiss. That first hour will prove to be the longest of her life. Her client will go to the internet boards and post he had a rip off experience. After a few negative reviews the young lady will no longer be able to charge GF prices.

Those who truly offer a GF experience are few and far between, and they earn every penny they get.

PS means porn star. Women who promise their clients a Porn Star experience should be prepared to make a serious physical commitment. Clients who pay a premium for PS aren’t looking for missionary.

C stands for courtesans, the rarest of the elite. Courtesans represent the highest form of professional romance. You don’t just call a phone number and request a courtesan. You meet her in a neutral setting, exchange conversation, and she makes the decision to date. You want a relationship with a true courtesan? You’ll have to pass an interview, and give references for two prior GF’s. And yes, she’ll interview your references!

Courtesans are guaranteed to be beautiful, intelligent, charming, witty, fun, sensual, and classy. These are the women who turn heads at formal parties and keep conversations flowing. They’re also great listeners, highly empathetic, and have a thorough understanding of the three or four men they’re willing to date.

And they’re expensive.