Skylar's Pov
I'm out by 3pm. The journey is a hassle; I have to take the train first and then switch to a bus. As I'm leaving my building, I'm privileged to ease drop on Royce's wife, Linda, standing right there in the parking lot and cursing him out for staying out all night. There's another girl hiding behind him, some young thing from one of his many affairs. I just shake my head and keep walking. It's a mess I'm glad to be leaving behind, even if just for a few hours.
It's a good thing my test came out negative last week. I'm pretty sure it's because of the condom, but you never really know with guys like him. A wave of relief washes over me every time I remember the results.
I realize I've never prepared this much for a deal before. On the way to the station, I stopped at a shop down the street and bought a tight red dress. I have these fancy heels stashed in my bag, the kind that kill your feet, so I replaced them with practical flats for the road. I spent hours this morning straightening my auburn curls, only to tie all my hair up in a severe bun right before I left. I did a light but bold makeup look on my face, something that says I'm trying but not trying too hard, before dousing myself in a perfume that cost me an arm and a leg a few years back. I need every advantage I can get.
I'm thinking I could make a good impression on this Rhys guy and maybe become his regular escort. I mean, this is a guy wealthy enough to deposit $10,000 upfront alongside an extra $1000 just for my transport fare. I think a long-term escort contract with someone like that could be six figures. The thought is almost dizzying. A part of my brain screams that I could be walking to my death, but it's a great thing to die rich, right? I'd rather die that way than wasting away in that slump, another forgotten face in a dead-end neighborhood.
After an hour on the road, the scenery finally changes as I make it to the city. I get off the bus and stop at the first decent-looking restaurant I see. I use the excuse of a quick lunch to hide in their bathroom and change into my heels. I chew a handful of breath mints and take a minute to redo my makeup under the harsh fluorescent lights, making sure every detail is perfect.
My phone beeps with a text from the man, whose name I've learnt is Rhys.
R:[are you still coming over?]
Q: [I just got to your city, would be there soon]
R: [Perfect, do you want me to pick you up? I'm almost finished with everything here]
He's truly a gentleman, or at least he's playing one very well. Something tells me that he's some quirky, awkward nerd but I don't think much on it. I don't need to know his life story, just that his money is good.
Q: [it's okay, I've got it]
I'm going to take a pretty good use on all the money he's sent me. He doesn't respond again, so I board an Uber, giving the driver the address I have written down. We drive towards an estate, and I'm glad I looked it up last night to avoid gawking like a fish out of water when I see it in person. It's even more exquisite up close, built right into the mountain side like it was born from some old novel like Wuthering Heights. It's the kind of place that doesn't just scream money, it whispers centuries of it.
The phone beeps again as the driver navigates the vast, winding driveway. I roll down the window to take in the fresh, clean wind, so different from the city smog. I suddenly feel rich. I mean, I am rich currently, but this atmosphere, this view, it just places a stamp of approval on my new, temporary status.
R: [Sure. For context, Daisy loves talking so you're probably going to listen to her for hours. Cassian can count, say his alphabets and is a little more chaotic than the rest so you'd have to look out for him more often, he's usually under the diner table or in the kitchen cupboards. The last is Lou or Louis, he has a very huge appetite so please feed him when he cries. I don't know... it's how he calms down]
The Uber comes to a smooth stop in front of a massive front door. I stare at my phone, my mind scrambling to process the words. What is he talking about? There's a girl? I'm not a lesbian. Shit. I didn't think this through. He's probably some kind of freak, the type who would watch people have sex for his own pleasure, and I just got paid that large amount of money already. I need to call this off. I could run off now, tell the driver to just keep going.
I should run off but I know how these rich people are. He'll find me before I even get a passport. And I can't even get a passport with all the charges on my record—bulgary, drug dealing, and fraud. I'm a walking felony. There's nowhere for me to run.
I heave a deep breath, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ears as I pay the Uber driver. I summon every ounce of courage I have left and force my legs to carry me towards the imposing front gate. I press the doorbell, hearing a soft chime echo inside. It opens after a few minutes that feel like an eternity. I'm suddenly trembling, my hands shaking at my sides. I've never trembled before a job, not once. I swallow a hard gulp when I step into the place, my new heels clicking on the marble floor.
The first thing I hear is a loud, happy squeal. Then a little boy, maybe three years old, comes running full-tilt into the foyer with nothing but his underwear on. A tall, muscular man I recognize as Rhys from his website photo follows behind him, catching him in one smooth, practiced swipe.
"Stop it, Cassian. You can't keep running from a bath," the man says, his voice tired but fond.
Cassian?
"Daddy, Daddy!" A little girl with pigtails calls out, running out to the patio just as a loud, piercing cry from a baby shakes the whole place. "Lou's hungry," she announces.
"I'm coming, Daisy," the man, Rhys, sighs, adjusting the wriggling boy on his hip.
My eyes dart from the girl to the boy to the sound of the crying baby. Lou? Daisy? My brain finally pieces it together, the reality of the situation hitting me like a ton of bricks.
They're kids?!