Post by Lord Sinistra on Mar 9, 2014 9:46:17 GMT -8
She slipped her hand back into his, but this time the spark was more of a tingle, and it caused a warm sensation to flow up her arm. She closed her eyes to it, letting it envelope her in an embrace that was the first really soothing thing she felt since she woke up in a body bag. She held for a couple minutes, then let go of him, sliding her hand back across the table as she opened her eyes. There was a strange hesitance in her eyes, and from the flow of emotion between them, she had quite a bit greater insight into him. "You're relieved. You're angry deep down at something but now you're hopeful. And there's a dash of happiness over a lot of loneliness."
She felt a little drunk and woozy from the exchange, trying to come to terms with the sensations of being a shade. Her lips barely moved as she murmured, "I guess that makes two of us."
She never really had close friends, she had contacts and clients, people willing to sell her looks for a slice of the pie and the people willing to pay for it. She had a couple friends in college but her nights were spent as a call girl, working the social scene. After graduation, she had a day job but it was never as lucrative as the things she did at night. So she started working from home doing medical coding while at night, she continued the parties and dates. Sometimes her work was one on one, sometimes it was a lavish gathering of the upper echelons of Chicago society. However taudry the details might have been, society painted on a smile to see her, as she represented one of the less intrusive disruptions to their carefully crafted wives. An escort is a companion for a lonely bachelor or a traveling dignitary. They posed no threat to a wife or a family life. They were as replaceable as a household servant. She had learned this the hard way.
No matter how charming she was, she would never be one of them. She was fine with that, as she had rationalized it in her mind that she was using them too, taking their money to pay for the lifestyle she had wanted growing up as a little girl in a coal mining town so far back in the woods, the sunshine had to be piped in. A freak turn of genetics had given her the good looks to get her out of there as soon as she could muster. Her mother died when she was a kid, her father was an alcoholic miner, who spent all his days deep in the coal or at the bottom of a bottle. He didn't care for her wearing makeup or having dreams of leaving and when the drink had, those disapprovals came with slaps and bruises. She had enough of it at 16 and left to stay with an aunt until she was watching West Virginia fade in the side mirrors of a greyhound at 18.
She felt like that again, watching a former life fading in the rearview as she was driven off into something new and completely over her head.
"So what do I need to know about starting over?"
She felt a little drunk and woozy from the exchange, trying to come to terms with the sensations of being a shade. Her lips barely moved as she murmured, "I guess that makes two of us."
She never really had close friends, she had contacts and clients, people willing to sell her looks for a slice of the pie and the people willing to pay for it. She had a couple friends in college but her nights were spent as a call girl, working the social scene. After graduation, she had a day job but it was never as lucrative as the things she did at night. So she started working from home doing medical coding while at night, she continued the parties and dates. Sometimes her work was one on one, sometimes it was a lavish gathering of the upper echelons of Chicago society. However taudry the details might have been, society painted on a smile to see her, as she represented one of the less intrusive disruptions to their carefully crafted wives. An escort is a companion for a lonely bachelor or a traveling dignitary. They posed no threat to a wife or a family life. They were as replaceable as a household servant. She had learned this the hard way.
No matter how charming she was, she would never be one of them. She was fine with that, as she had rationalized it in her mind that she was using them too, taking their money to pay for the lifestyle she had wanted growing up as a little girl in a coal mining town so far back in the woods, the sunshine had to be piped in. A freak turn of genetics had given her the good looks to get her out of there as soon as she could muster. Her mother died when she was a kid, her father was an alcoholic miner, who spent all his days deep in the coal or at the bottom of a bottle. He didn't care for her wearing makeup or having dreams of leaving and when the drink had, those disapprovals came with slaps and bruises. She had enough of it at 16 and left to stay with an aunt until she was watching West Virginia fade in the side mirrors of a greyhound at 18.
She felt like that again, watching a former life fading in the rearview as she was driven off into something new and completely over her head.
"So what do I need to know about starting over?"