Dirty Little Secret by S.E. Law

2

Luke

I’m meeting my date at the Soho Grand, a luxury hotel in downtown NYC after I get off work. It’s a great boutique hotel, and one of the most discreet in the city. After all, I’m not exactly on a date date. I’m looking for an escort, and hopefully, this one will deliver.

After all, I have a stalker, and hopefully by hiring a girlfriend, I’ll get Jocelyn off my back. As a wealthy man with a public profile, it’s not that uncommon to have a stalker, but Jocelyn’s taken it to the next level. Just today, I saw her hanging around on the sidewalk outside our company headquarters. She was pretending to eat an ice cream, but I know the truth: she was clearly hoping to catch me. Fortunately, I managed to get in my vehicle sight unseen, basically fleeing the aggressive woman.

It’s sad. That was almost an hour ago, but I’m still feeling the lasting effects of adrenaline flowing through my veins. Seeing Jocelyn always makes my skin crawl because she’s more than annoying at this point; she’s off the reservation, and the restraining order I took out against her isn’t doing any good.

I force my knee to stop bouncing under the table. I’m usually better at keeping my emotions and physical tics in check, but for some reason, I seem to have lost that ability tonight. Then, I take a sip of my merlot and check my watch. The escort’s a few minutes late. I sigh and run my hand through my black hair. Maybe she got cold feet? Wouldn’t that just be the cherry on top of an extremely stressful day? If I wasn’t so desperate for this girl’s help, I would have left already because in general, I don’t wait for women. Then again, I’ve never run from a woman either, so today is a day of firsts for me.

A few minutes later and I’m about to call this a bust, when a ripple of energy surges through the room. What just happened? I turn my head in time and sure enough, a beautiful woman’s just entered. She’s gorgeous with brunette curls and a lush figure clad in a demure cocktail dress. Is this my date?

Sure enough, the host leads her toward me, and I catch my breath as they come closer because this woman looks even better than her profile photos. She’s every bit as curvy as her pic promised, and her décolletage looks appetizing, it’s so creamy and soft. My cock throbs and I want nothing more than to take her on a real date, but that’s not going to happen because this woman is a professional with a job to do.

Get it together, Luke,I counsel myself. She works on her back for money. But as the brunette nears, I stand to meet her. “You must be Patricia,” I growl, “I’m Luke Montgomery.” I offer my hand.

Her pink lips part a little as she stares at me, and a faint blush fills her cheeks. I smirk. Is she surprised? Was she expecting a crotchety old geezer instead of a tall, handsome man obviously in his prime? The host says something about our server being right with us, but I’m focused on Patricia. Her hands flutter as she gathers her hair and collects it over one shoulder, veiling her cleavage in the most tantalizing way.

Then, she smiles shyly and accepts my hand. Hers is small and soft and feels curiously right nestled in my large palm. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Montgomery,” she says. Her voice is low, sweet, and a bit husky. I wonder what she would sound like in the throes of passion?

I hold out her chair. “Please, just Luke. Have a seat,” I say.

She does so, and I take the chair across from her. There’s already a glass of ice water on the table, and she sips delicately from it. I watch her closely, my gaze following the subtle ripples of her throat. She’s very classy, and I like it. In these few moments, I already know that Patricia’s perfect for my scheme.

“Would you like something stronger?” I ask courteously. “The bar has a fantastic wine selection here.”

She shakes her head. “This is fine for now, but thank you.”

I look at her askance.

“Do you not drink?”

She giggles like a tinkling chime.

“Oh no, I do. It’s just that I’m hot from my walk here, so the ice water hits the spot.”

I nod, eyes flashing.

“That’s good because I don’t trust people who don’t drink, sweetheart. It’s just strange not to.”

She laughs.

“I know what you mean, but don’t worry, I’m no teetotaler. I just need to cool off first, that’s all.”

I want to keep talking to her just to hear more of her melodious tones, but then the server comes to take our orders.

“Would you like some food, honey?” I invite. “I haven’t eaten, so I’m aiming for a steak.”

She blushes.

“Are you sure you don’t mind? They weren’t clear about the date. I thought it might be just drinks.”

I shake my head.

“No, it’s fine, baby girl. Order anything you like.”

She nods, picking up the menu and gazing at it. I get my usual king-cut steak with a side of roasted asparagus and grilled corn, and then Patricia surprises me by ordering the same but with mashed potatoes instead of asparagus. Good. I like a woman who eats. The sommelier comes by and soon, we’re comfortably enjoying a bottle of wine together.

“I like a girl with an appetite,” I say once he’s left. “And one who knows how to enjoy wine,” I say approvingly as she sips at her merlot.

“Oh really?” Patricia asks playfully. Her leg crosses under the table. Her toes bump up against my knee just slightly. “But neither of those qualities are particularly ‘ladylike.’ I thought you were looking for someone respectable.”

I smile at her. “I am, but there are many ways to be respectable. The picture that Margaux shared with me made you look…”

“Innocent? Obedient?”

“I was going to say ‘sweet.’”

She laughs. “Margaux told me what you had in mind, and I figured I’d try to be accommodating.”

I raise a brow, intrigued. “Why? Do you get “respectable” requests very often?”

She shrugs playfully.

“Not particularly. Every client is different, and being in my line of work, you see it all.” But then she smiles. “I hope you think this outfit is respectable,” she tinkles, twirling a brown ringlet around one finger. My eyes drop to her décolletage, rising and falling softly beneath the velvet fabric, and under the table, my hand clenches into a fist. Oh, this woman. This woman! Does she know what she’s doing to me? I watch Patricia sip her wine, and she glances at me over the rim before letting her gaze slide away. What am I thinking? She’s a professional at seducing men. Of course she knows what she’s doing.

“You know, you’re not what I had in mind either,” she says in a light tone.

I laugh roughly.

“No? Then, I’m curious. What were you expecting?”

“If you want the truth, I was imagining an elderly guy who wanted to show me off to his business partners. You look like you might be closer to… thirty-four? Thirty-five?”

“I’m thirty-five.” I laugh. “You say that like you’ve had experience with that kind of situation before.”

She snorts, and again, I’m drawn by her unladylike mannerisms. “Oh, trust me I have. I could go on and on about the experiences I’ve had with rich men, but I doubt you want to hear it.” She shakes her head drolly. “I’m glad that you’re not what I pictured.”

I smirk. “Hey, it takes a lot of different people to make the world go around. But tell me something about yourself, Patricia. Something most of your other clients don’t know about you.”

She thinks for a moment.

“Hmm, getting intimate are we? But I’ll tell you one secret: Patricia, or Patty, is actually my real name. I don’t use a fake one the way most girls in my line of work do.”

I pretend shock. “So most of the girls aren’t really named Candy, Amber, or Mystic?”

She laughs, and again her giggle is utterly mesmerizing.

“No, I don’t think City Girls would let my co-workers pick a stripper-like name because we’re too classy for that. But yes, Patty is my real name, and another fun tidbit: I’m a classical pianist on the side.”

My eyebrows raise. That, I had not expected. “That’s impressive. How long have you been playing?”

She smiles shyly.

“Close to all of my life actually. I graduated from Juilliard a few years ago, and I’ve always been really into the music scene.”

“Wow.” I glance behind her at the grand piano near the back of the restaurant. “Could you play at a moment’s notice? Because there’s a piano right over there.”

The pretty girl looks over her shoulder, and when she returns her gaze to mine, she’s grinning. “I could absolutely dazzle you on that piano.”

A smile spreads slowly across my face. Patty’s confidence is infectious, and I’m seconds away from taking her up on her challenge, but at that moment, our server returns with our order. He sets the steaming plates in front of us, and as he tops off our wine, the pretty girl gives me a little coquettish grin and says, “Let’s continue this another time because I’m starving!”

With a chuckle, we begin to eat and it’s very satisfying. Our steaks are cooked to a perfect medium rare, and the asparagus is tender. But really, the only thing on my mind is Patty. She’s fascinating, quick witted, talented, and beautiful to boot. And even if she doesn’t come from money, she clearly knows how to pretend she is, which is key for what I need. I can’t imagine someone more perfect for what I have in mind, and in some ways, I’m almost disappointed that our relationship needs to be professional. But again, I have a job for her, and there’s no sense in beating around the bush.

“You know,” I say once we’re halfway through the meal. “I’m glad that you’re not what I was expecting.”

“Are you sure?” she asks, her tone teasing. “I’m still not sure what you’re looking for, Mr. Montgomery, if it’s not a business dinner you have planned.”

I chuckle. “Again, call me Luke, Patty. Mr. Montgomery is my father, may he rest in peace. But again, you’re perfect.”

Her eyebrow raises. “Is that so?”

I nod. “You’re classy, articulate, and incredibly beautiful. Any man would be lucky to have you by his side.”

Her lips part slightly, and after a moment of hesitation, she nods.

“Yes, but what do you have in mind? You still haven’t specified,” she says archly.

With that, I decide to ditch the meal. There’s no sense in stuffing ourselves full when I want to sample the goods, right here, right now. Quickly, I get to my feet and hold out my hand to her.

“Sweetheart, let’s order room service upstairs, shall we? Or we can even get these steaks boxed up and delivered to my suite.”

She’s surprised and pauses, her fork stuck in her mashed potatoes. But this is a working girl who has her priorities straight. She puts down her utensil and nods before taking my hand and standing gracefully.

“Of course, Luke,” she says in a dulcet voice. “I’m happy to have any conversation you’d like.”

I nod, pleased, and walk her over to the elevator banks. Patty feels right on my arm, and I love how other men and woman watch discreetly, seeing that we make a striking couple. Then, the elevator opens and we step inside as the metal doors silently close.

“I promise I’ll tell you everything once we get upstairs,” I rasp as I pull that curvy figure into my arms. “But first, let me show you my suite.” Then I claim her plush pout, but what Patty doesn’t realize is that upstairs awaits the tryout, and it’s not just about words. The curvy brunette’s already ten times better than I anticipated, and now, it’s time for me to sample the goods.