Void (10 page)

I HOPPED INTO A CAB and headed towards lower Manhattan. I held my purse close to me, knowing that I carried twelve and a half grand in there, full of cash. I knew exactly where my first stop was going to me.

Agent Provocateur.

Although expensive, it held some of the world's most beautiful and exquisite lingerie that was designed to reveal or conceal, hug curves, or be flirty, fun, and sexy. Since my profession required me to be physically enticing to my clients, I thought it could be both a luxury and an investment. Most of all, I really had a deep desire to please both Andris and my client.

The boutique was beautiful with a plethora of designs and styles to choose from in a vast range of colors. My eyes zeroed in on a gorgeous teal blue silk and lace piece.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

I turned around and smiled at the saleswoman who had approached me from behind.

“It is.”

“It’s from our Cassia collection. This color would look great with your skin tone and blonde hair,” she said, fingering the material before picking it up from the table and holding it up to my chest.

“Would you like to try it on?”

“That would be great, thank you.”

I followed the lady to the back of the boutique where she offered me a luxurious fitting room to change in. After closing the door, I removed my clothes and stood staring at the lingerie that the sales lady had hung up on the back of the dressing room door. I let my hands run over the material, relishing in the soft feel of the silk and lace. I removed the bra from the hanger and placed my hands through the straps, before snapping the ends together at my back. It was a quarter cup bra that swept up to fan across my collarbones, creating a delicate opening that accentuated my full breasts. A tiny black bow completed the bra as it rested in the middle of the cups between my breasts.

I reached for the thong, pulling it on over my legs to allow the stretchy silk sides to rest gently on my hipbones. Lace graced the front of the fabric and also in the rear. The same contrasting black bow that was on the bra, sat in the front, just at the top of my mound. I reached for the suspender, pulling it on to where the lace top part swept romantically over my hips. Lastly, I put on the pair of matching thigh-high teal silk stockings and secured the black clasp at the end of the suspender to them. I turned around to look in the mirror, amazed at how the delicate fabric felt. I ran my hands down the front of my body, imagining what my mystery client’s hands would feel like as he touched both my skin and my fabric. My face flushed with heat, as blood ran to my face at all the possibilities of pleasure I would get to experience with him.

“Everything okay, Sweetie?” The sales lady asked as she knocked gently on the door. I undid the lock and opened the dressing room door a fraction of an inch so that I could see her.

“Can I get your opinion on this?”

“Sure,” she said, smiling. I opened the door wider so that she had the opportunity to look at the entire ensemble. I slipped back into my black heels and stood before her to be assessed.

“I think the color looks gorgeous on you. Your décolletage looks phenomenal in the Cassia bra. What sort of look or idea did you have in mind for the piece?”

“Well, I have a
special
date and want to look feminine, sexy…
wanted
.”

“Well, Honey, I think you have all of those nailed down. Your date will be thoroughly pleased, I’m sure.” Her smile was warm, and I appreciated her kindness.

“I’ll take them, then.”

“Great, when you are finished, I will wrap them up for you. Will it be cash or charge?”

“Cash, please. Thank you.”

SEVERAL HOURS AND a couple hundred dollars later, I arrived back at my condo with all my new purchases. I splurged on a few more lingerie pieces for work, as well as a few cocktail dresses and a new pair of shoes. The cocktail dresses could be worn for work or play, seeing as how I did have a few clients that only used my services as a companion date, for a social functions or business dinners where they wanted or needed a companion.

I dug in my purse for the keys as I balanced all of my packages on one arm before opening the door. A crunch was heard under my foot as I stepped into the condo and I looked over my shoulder to find a white envelope laying on the floor addressed with my name. Someone must have slipped it under the door while I was gone this morning. I walked over to my couch and sat all of my packages and bags down before going to retrieve the envelope. Lifting the flap, I pulled out an intricately designed invitation to the retirement party of my former therapist, Robert Gunn. Who was also Andris’s uncle. That meant that he would be there as well. Did I want to subject myself to seeing Andris again so soon? I read through the invitation and noticed that it was for tonight at eight pm. I looked at the clock and noticed it was three in the afternoon. It gave me just enough time for a small nap and then plenty of time to get ready.

My rest was fitful, when I finally fell asleep, images of the night before would begin playing on repeat. It seemed that every time I reached for my blindfold so that I could pull it off in hopes of getting just a glimpse at my mystery man, I would jolt awake before my eyes were ever uncovered from the darkness. By the time I was finally able to shut my brain off long enough to get rest, the alarm on my phone had gone off telling me it was time to get up and get ready. I stumbled through my dark condo, moonlight savings time having the pleasure of it being dark at five pm.

The shower was soothing as I washed and buffed my body, amazed at how aware I was of the excitement I felt about getting to see Andris tonight at the party. I couldn’t help but think about all the faces I would see there and wondered if I would be searching the crowd all night wondering if
he
was there.

After my shower, I towel dried my hair and rolled it in my foam rollers before venturing to my room. The Agent Provocateur bag rested on the foot of my bed and I wondered if I wanted to wear the contents that were inside. Shrugging, I decided to go for it. Maybe if my mystery client was there, he would see me and decide that he wanted to have another session sooner rather than later.

I enjoyed putting on the teal piece again, enjoying how sexy it made me feel and to have the ability to smile knowing what was underneath my clothing. I don’t care what anyone says, a good pair of lingerie always makes a woman feel sexy, no matter what.

I walked over to the closet and sifted through the numerous dresses I had that accompanied some of the other lingerie pieces I had in there. The event was formal, so I needed something that would fit the events of the evening, while giving me the sexy edge that I wanted to create. I found a silk dress in nearly the exact same color as the lingerie I was wearing and decided that it would be perfect. Pulling it off the hanger, I held it up in front of me. Fate must have been on my side because I didn’t realize that the top of the dress matched the top of my new bra perfectly. I looked at the tag.

Agent Provocateur.

It was a slip dress that Lexie had gotten me for my birthday this past year. I laughed at the irony and proceeded to slip into the gown. It featured two thigh-high slits up both sides of my legs that rested just to the edge of my stockings. In the back, the lace tapered from the nape of my neck down all the way to the top of my ass, exposing most of my backside. It was sexy and elegant at the same time. I needed to remind myself to thank Lexie later.

I returned to the bathroom, zapping my rolled hair with the dryer and then let the rollers sit to cool while I applied my make-up. I wanted something very sexy and simple to go with my dress, so I chose to do a simple cat-eye lined lid with a few swipes of mascara and a dab of pink lip gloss. The deep black line of my eyes made me look like a 1940’s pin-up girl, so to complete the look, I removed the rollers and sectioned off my bangs. Parting them over to the side, I created a small pinwheel look to them before pinning them in place and then swept my long and now wavy hair over to the side to rest on my shoulder so that my back would be exposed. A few spritzes of my favorite honeysuckle perfume and I was ready to go.

After returning to my room to slip on my grey sequined strappy sandals, I grabbed a matching clutch from the top of my closet and ventured into the living room to transfer all of the items I would need tonight into it from my purse, even throwing in a few extra condoms.

You know. Just in case.

I called ahead of time for a cab, because I didn’t want to stand out in the freezing cold to wait for one knowing that the wind would cut right through the delicate silk dress I was wearing, even with my trench coat on. The ride over to the hotel where the party was taking place was spent thinking about Andris and my mystery client. Since it was a business type setting, I assumed that Andris would have me address him as such as opposed to Sinclaire. The more I thought about it, the Sinclaire name didn’t really fit the rugged sexiness that was Andris Gunn.

I arrived at the hotel just a little past eight pm, and as the cab pulled up a gentleman in a well-tailored suit and white gloves opened the door for me and I felt the cold breeze hit my legs as I stepped from the cab. I thanked him, pulling my jacket tighter around me to combat the cold and proceeded up the stairs to the hotel entrance.

The New York Palace was a beautiful hotel set in Midtown that blended modern with classic New York elegance. The party was being held in a bar beneath the hotel’s large grand staircase in the lobby. Trouble’s Trust was modernly designed with deep red liqueur walls and embossed leather panels. It featured an intricately designed liquid metal bar, but the most impressive thing about the room was the floor to ceiling wine display.

There were probably already close to seventy people in the bar when I arrived, making it difficult to spot Andris.

Not that I was looking for him.

A gentleman at the entrance accepted my coat and I held onto my clutch just in case I needed anything inside. I made my way over to the bar, standing behind two older women who were engrossed in conversation. Their hair was immaculately styled, and their makeup done to perfection. I could tell that the women were older than what their appearance showed, thanks to the wonders of Botox.

“Madam, what may I get for you?” The bartender asked when he noticed I had picked up one of the specialty drink menus from the bar.

“I think I would like to try the ‘Queen of Mean’ please,” I said as my eyes scanned over the rest of the menu. Breuckelen Wheat Whiskey, Ginger Beer, Red Jacket NY Apple Juice,

Averell "Damson Gin", elderflower syrup, fresh lemon, and a baked apple chip garnish seemed enticing enough to me. The bartender went to work mixing my drink just as the two older ladies turned around to look at me.

“Your dress is beyond gorgeous, my dear. If I were younger, I would have to show it off myself. How do you know my husband?”

At first I was a little shocked by her question. Given my profession, I met a lot of women’s “husbands”. Was she asking me if I slept with her husband? Did I sleep with her husband?

She must have noticed the furrow of my brows as I tried to search my mind for who she could be, so she reached out and put a gentle hand on my forearm.

“Doctor Robert Gunn.”

“Ah, yes,” I said giggling. “He was my therapist for many years, until recently.” I explained to her, feeling relived that I had
never
slept with Dr. Gunn.

“What is your name, dear?”

I extended my hand to hers while her older friend looked on.

“Nicola Forbes. Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Gunn.”

She took my hand delicately in hers, rubbing her thumb on the back of my hand.

“Please, call me Dottie. That Mrs. Gunn shit makes me feel old. Nicola Forbes. You must be the beautiful daughter of former Senator Forbes.”

I tensed a little. I hated it when people brought up my parents. Not that it bothered me to speak about them, but years of “I’m sorry for your loss,” or hearing about how “wonderful” my father was when I knew different got rather old.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, how that old fart made such a beautiful woman like you is beyond me. Oh, no offense, dear.”

I liked her instantly.

“None taken, trust me.”

“Forgive me, this is my friend Shelby Patterson. She flew into town yesterday to surprise her husband. We go back many years. Her husband often comes to New York on business, but it is rare she gets to attend.”