“We don’t need any icebreakers. Let’s talk until we feel comfortable around each other.” I said, looking into his eyes.
“Are your eyes gray?”
“Yes, they are and naturally. Someone on my mother’s side had them, and somehow I inherited them as well.” I said and was being honest. My parents thought something was wrong with my eyes when I was born, but Grandma Pep came in and cleared that right up. Apparently, her uncle and her firstborn, Gloria, had gray eyes.
“They give you this mystique and sultry look.”
“Thanks.” I blushed.
“So I’m taking you’re quite familiar with how this goes and everything?”
“What do you mean?”
“Being around old ass men like me who whine about being lonely and wanting companionship.” He chuckled.
“You’re not old, Antonio. You look good for your age. And this is your time, we can do whatever you want to do. I don’t judge, nor do I complain. So what’s on your mind?”
“What’s on your mind? You look like something on your brain, and you’re trying to avoid it by getting me to talk about mine.” He smiled.
“I’ve been trying to mask it since I got here. I’m sorry, I’m usually more focused.”
“Well, tell me about it.”
“It’s personal.”
“Too personal to share?”
“No, but I don’t feel comfortable bringing my personal life into my-”
“Job.” Antonio completed.
“My time with you. It’s not really a job if you love what you do.”
“Do you love what you do?”
“Yes.” I lied.
“You’re too beautiful to be lying to protect my feelings.”
“I’m not lying.” I lied again.
“I work in the military. I’m trained to spot the truth and rule out lies.”
“Why can’t we just talk about you and whatever you want to share.”
“I pay a therapist $300 a week to do that with. I spend $1200-$5000 with a lady of my choice to help me forget all this shit I went over with my therapist. I like a natural conversation and unforgettable evenings, not boring-ass nights.”
“I’m boring?” I asked, offended.
“Ehhhh..” He said. I punched him in his arm, and he laughed.
“Sorry,” I said, embarrassed.
“It’s fine. I usually like to get into the kinky shit after four dates, but at the rate, this is going, this will probably be the last.” He joked.
“Really?”
“Mhm. When Charisma said she was sending the next best substitute, she definitely wasn’t describing the woman sitting in front of me. Can’t be the same woman who she described as intelligent, funny, and stunning. She had the stunning part right, but the rest is ehhh.” He said with a smile, but I knew he was serious. I was fumbling my own bag, an easy bag at that. I was too embarrassed to stay here now. I sat up from the couch and looked for my clutch.
“I’m sorry. You can call the agency and request another girl. Sorry for disappointing you, but please don’t complain about me. I need this job.” I said as I got up from the couch. I began to head towards the door, but Antonio grabbed my hand and stopped me.
“I was only joking. Do I think things can go better? Yes, but I am enjoying your company. You’re different from the girls that they usually send but in a good way. You don’t seem like you’re going off a script or secretly counting down the time we have left. You’re having a bad night, I get it, but there is still time to turn it around. Please stay.” He said. I paused, then sat back down next to him.
“I’m married. However, I’m not happy and think I’m ready for a divorce. The woman I married is not who I thought she was, and I’m not in love anymore. Hell, I don’t think I was in love as I thought I was. We were high school sweethearts and stayed together throughout college. However, she stepped out on me during a semester and got pregnant. She claimed it was a one-night stand. I was going to leave her and move on, but she asked me to raise the child with her because she feared what her parents would do since they were super religious. My dumb ass agreed to portray as the baby’s father, but her parents weren’t having that shacking up shit, so she begged me to marry her, and I thought I was doing the right thing at first.”
“What changed?” I asked.
“It never felt right. Even after twenty years of being married, my feelings never changed. We eventually had our own son years later. But only because her parents started to get suspicious that we weren’t having as many as they thought we would have after college. I don’t know how, but my wife definitely trapped my ass and got pregnant. I only say trapped because I always used protection and she was on birth control because we agreed that we were going to do this marriage shit for five years then end it. We were going to tell her folks that it didn’t work out, but I agreed to co-parent for Aaron’s sake. However, she ended up getting pregnant, and of course, I stayed.”
“Why? Why didn’t you keep your agreement and just co-parent?”
“During those times, how would it look if I was to leave my pregnant wife and five years old? Despite our situation, my folks didn’t raise me like that, so I did what I felt was right...again.”
“So, what’s making you say this is it?”
“I think she’s stepping out on me again and is up to some no-good shit. I don’t want any parts in anything she’s doing, and my kids are grown now. Aaron is twenty-two, and my baby boy Andre is turning eighteen in a couple
