“She only saw him once?”
“Well, it’s very expensive—like a thousand dollars for one night. Shae said it was worth every penny. Apparently, it was just what she needed to feel confident and sexy again. A little while after that, she started to put herself out there and began dating the man she’s now engaged to. But she attributes this escort with getting her out of the funk she’d been in. Not to mention, she said it was the best sex of her life.”
“Really…well, I could never do something like that.”
“Suppose you had the money, though…why would you say that you would never do it?”
She couldn’t be serious.
“Because he probably has some disease, for one.”
“Actually, I brought that up with her, and she said that they discussed it before they had any physical contact. He told her he gets tested frequently and is very rigid about practicing safe sex. He was very open about everything. They spoke quite a bit online before they met.”
“Wow. Well, that definitely doesn’t sound like what I envision a male prostitute to be like.”
“It wasn’t. I guess this company caters to the professional woman. They know that smart women want more than just a night of sex. They want to be with someone who is both sexy and intelligent. Honestly, if I were single and had the money, I would totally do it.”
I wasn’t sure I believed her. “Really? You would?”
“Why not? I agree with you that dating can be brutal. Sometimes, a girl just needs a good lay and nothing more.” She whipped out her phone.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m texting Shae for the information on the escort service.”
“Why?”
“Just in case you want to look into it.” She winked. “You can start saving now. Skip the gel nails and the lattes for a few months.”
“You’re crazy. Don’t bother.”
She ignored me and kept typing. “Like I said, can’t hurt to have the information.”
We’d been so wrapped up in this conversation, I hadn’t even heated up my lunch. I popped my bowl into the microwave, waited, and just as it dinged, so did Annabelle’s phone.
“Oh, she responded!”
I blew on the escarole soup. “What did she say?”
“Let me read it verbatim.” She paused. “It’s called Newbury Gentleman’s Club. They have a generic website. They obviously don’t advertise the fact that they offer more than just escort services. The woman who owns it has a direct email. Most of their business is through word of mouth, since they can’t be too blatant in their advertising. You contact this woman initially, and she gives you a password to a secure portal where you can choose the person based on physical attributes and a brief description of personality traits of the man you want to meet. For example, you can indicate whether you want to be with someone who’s rough in bed or someone who is more gentle. You can indicate preferences like blond or dark-haired, bulky or lean. They don’t show photos to protect the man’s privacy, but they guarantee that on a scale of one to ten on the looks ratio, all of their men fall in the ten range.” She turned to me. “God, this is better than being a kid in a candy store! Anyway, she just pasted the email address of the woman in charge but also gave me a password that she said might still work to bypass having to contact the woman in order to get into the secure site. I’m forwarding you all the information.”
That made me nervous for some reason. “Why?”
“Because I want to live vicariously through you. I think you should look into it.”
Annabelle had seriously lost her mind.
“And where exactly am I going to get this money?” I asked even though I wasn’t really entertaining this.
“Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”
I neglected to mention that I had quite a bit of savings, and that technically, money wasn’t the issue. I could easily afford the thousand-dollar price tag without denting my bank account because I’d always been smart with my money and saved a lot. That wasn’t the deterrent for me so much as my fear of disease and my pride.***A few days later, it was Sunday night, and my emotions were all over the place.
I’d just logged into Facebook to find Rory had been tagged in a photo posted by someone named Jennifer Barney. They were walking along the Charles River, both wearing athletic clothing. I assumed he must have been dating her. It was the first time I’d had to see him with anyone else, and it was absolutely devastating.
After thoroughly stalking her photos, I realized that Jennifer’s features were similar to mine, which made it all even worse somehow. He’d broken up with me to spend time with someone who looked like she could be my sister. And that burned.