He doesn’t know it’s my birthday and it wouldn’t really matter. While Benjamin seems like a decent guy—at least based on the one date we went on—I’m paid to focus on him. He said he joined La Stella’s Gentleman’s Club to try it out because he enjoys the company and it can be difficult to find a companion who isn’t looking for strings. At first, I thought he’d try to hit on me, thinking I’d give him more, but at the end of the date, with a kiss to my cheek, he said good night.
I’ve gone on a few other dates with other guys similar to Benjamin—men simply looking for a woman to have dinner with, or attend a function with. I’m not sure why they waste their money to spend the evening with me, when they could get more from another woman, but I’m making money, and based on how much I get paid per date, a few more guys like Benjamin and I should have enough to sign up for a couple online classes. Gio was right. He does pay his escorts well…very well.
I snap a few more photos of the gardens before heading back inside to get ready. When I turn around, I’m met with a hard chest. “Jesus, Gio! Ever hear of personal space?”
Gio looks down at me and chuckles. “Are you getting annoyed because you weren’t watching where you were going and ran into me?”
“What do you need?” I ask, trying to get to the point. Gio has been making it a point to avoid me, so for him to be here in my space must mean he needs something.
“I just wanted to wish you a Happy Birthday.” He holds out a small box wrapped in silver and pink shiny paper, and I feel a crack in my carefully guarded heart, reminding me I need to keep this man at arm’s length. He made it clear how he feels and now I need to move forward. Letting him in will only hurt me in the long run and I’ve been hurt enough.
“You remembered.” I reluctantly take the gift from him.
“Of course, I did. You’re officially of drinking age.” Gio gives me his signature panty-melting wink. “You don’t have to open it now.”
“Oh, well, I want to.” I rip open the paper and inside the small box is a shiny silver key. “A key?”
“It’s to a dark room. I know you like digital prints, but I remember you saying you loved using the college’s darkroom.” I told him this one night while we were watching an old black and white movie, that I love and appreciate the new technology but sometimes it’s nice to go at it old school.
“You built me a darkroom?”
Gio just shrugs, like turning an entire room into a darkroom is no big deal, when it is, in fact, a big deal. Most of my life I’ve been given gifts that people expect me to want. Clothes, jewelry, a car. Materialistic possessions wealthy people should want. When I was younger, before my mom met Weston, she was different. She would buy me personal gifts like scrapbooks for my pictures. But the longer she was with him, the further apart we grew.
But sometimes, my real mom, the one who knew me, would shine through. One time she bought me a polaroid camera. Weston would bitch every time I would drag it along with me everywhere we went, snapping pictures. The camera would make a loud scraping sound as it would develop, the photo printing right there. I would pull it out and shake the picture as it magically appeared.
I look down at the key sitting heavy in my hand. “Thank you. I can’t wait to use it. There’s nothing like the feel and smell of real photos.”
“You’re welcome. Do you have any plans tonight?”
“I’m working.”
Gio frowns. “Okay. Well, Maggie made you a cake. It’s in the kitchen. Make sure you find time to eat a piece.”
“I will. Thank you.” The awkwardness that surrounds us is palpable, so I make the first move to walk away, but before I do, Gio stops me, his hand touching my arm and sending a bolt of electricity through me.
“I have some info on your ex-boyfriend. We have a meeting in New York we need to go to. It’ll be a same day trip, so you’ll need the day after tomorrow off.”
I have so many questions to ask but hold them in for now. “Okay, I’ll let Cecilia know. Thank you, Gio.”
He gives me a curt nod before stalking away.
* * *
“I have a club opening in two days. I know it’s short notice, but I’ll let Cecilia know I’m willing to pay double for the inconvenience.” Benjamin and I are sitting at the dinner table. Caesar is only about ten feet away guarding me. You wouldn’t know it unless you knew him. He never looks my way, but I know I’m safe no matter where I am because he’s always close. I’ve spent the last two hours pretending Benjamin and I are at this fancy Japanese restaurant for my birthday but when the waiters came out to sing Happy Birthday and they stopped at the table next to us, it hit me that while I wanted this, to work and be independent, I’m not any happier than I was before. While I might be going through the motions of life, I’m not actually living.