Page 8 of The Secret Stalker
“You do,” I say softly. “You are my driver by day, a personal trainer by night or morning or whenever it is you train. You have your life mapped out. You probably have a secret girlfriend or boyfriend you are about to propose to for all I know too. Probably some kids on the horizon, a nice house with a picket fence. But who wants me? An aging, glorified escort that normal clients don’t want to speak to or get to know because they use me for what they need and go back to their ‘normal’ lives with their loved ones, their giant houses and their white picket fences.” I’m beginning to sound shrill but I can’t help the pain in my voice.
“Sophie, I can promise you now, I do not have my shit together and my life mapped out. Not even close. I know we chat on our journeys together but there is so much about my life you don’t know and wouldn’t want you to. I promise you, my life is no rosier than yours. We are all pushing our own shit up different hills, sometimes you don’t know it until you scratch the surface.”
I soften and frown into my eyemask. “Zee. We have been friends for years, you can speak to me, why have you never said anything to me? I want to be friends that share. I know this is meant to be a working relationship, but work friends can share too.”
“It’s complicated,” Zee replies with a heavy sigh.
“I can do complicated Zee, I want to. We’re friends, good friends in my eyes. I told you about Mack. It feels so much better sharing. He’s bringing colour back into my life, Zee. He’s adding the flavour and the spicy aroma that has been missing lately. He’s turning my beige into redhot flames and I’m not sorry about it. I want to feel anything but beige and if that is because some hot guy chose me to be his online submissive, then I’ll take that option over beige one thousand times over. Wouldn’t you?” We sit in silence for a minute as Zee, I assume, digests what I’ve just laid bare to him. Until now, I hadn’t realised how low I’d let myself become. I hadn’t realised until voicing it just now, how much I need something, anything to change up the rut I’ve got stuck in that is my life. I say goodbye to more people than I let in. I want to let Mack in, I have a great big giant black hole in my life and it’s sucking me in, it’s consuming me. Zee clears his throat.
“I’m sorry Sophie, I was just concerned for your welfare is all. I can understand your need to break up the routine before you get lost in it and it sours you from the inside out. I get it, in more ways than you may realise. You’re right, if some secret gorgeous lady messaged me out of the blue and wanted to be my online playmate, I can’t imagine I’d ever say no—ever. I want you to be careful, that’s all. You already know what is happening is not normal, and this guy, this Mack, you need to pay attention and watch out for any red flags and you need to take note of them, don’t ignore them. No should haves, could haves, would haves. This is serious—yes enjoy yourself, but do it with your eyes wide open. Promise me.”
“I promise, Zee. But if you have anything that bothers you or you need to talk about it, I’m here OK? It sounds like you have stuff going on behind the scenes, maybe I can help?”
I can hear the warmth return in his voice as he begins, “I know you would. I just don’t like sharing the shit stuff, I prefer to just chat like we do and have a good time when we’re together. That is always the route I prefer to take, that is what makes me feel better.”
“Ok, if you ever do want to talk about the shit stuff, ourshit stuff might be similar, and you might not know if you don’t bring it up. It might help?”
“It’s not, but I will do my best to share the good bits and the bad bits. How’s that?”
“Better.”
“Good because we are here. Please be careful. I know all the members are vetted but still. There is a first for everything. I will be close by should you need me. And use your safe-word if you need to, what is it Sophie?”
“It’s Neptune, but I will be fine,” I say, removing the mask to see we have arrived in an underground car park. I look around blinking in the lights to see we’re parked next to the elevator but see no cars on this level. I look towards Zee meaningfully as he turns back to look at me. “Promise,” I smile back and can’t help the excitement I feel bubbling up inside of me at my impending job.
I open the door to hear Zee back to his playful self, “You are to go to level 12, room 1201. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“As if!” I reply, us both knowing I will absolutely be doing everything Zee would never do, because that is why I am a playmate and he is my driver.
FIVE
Sophie
I close the door laughing, feeling better to have shared about Mack, even after the almost argument I just had with Zee. I walk to the elevator, press the up button to call the lift and wave to Zee that he can go. He stays put like the stubborn man he is. Watching. Waiting for me to disappear out of sight. It is funny that I was allocated Zee when all the other playmates I know were allocated men in their fifties to be their drivers.Maybe there weren’t any available when I joined the Clarendon?I muse.
The elevator door opens, I walk in and press the twelfth floor button. I look around and see thick canvases over the floor and around each side of the lift.There must be someone moving in or out,I consider as I excitedly move high into the building until the lift stops and the doors slide open to the sound of a ping. I step out into the hallway of the twelfth floor and turn my head to see which side I need to walk to, to get to apartment 1201. I see it’s to my right so make my way to theend of the corridor and stand in front of the plain white door. I take in a deep calming breath and say a little prayer which is my usual routine when I get to a client’s door.Please be nice and don’t chop me up into small pieces.I really need to stop watching so many horror movies. I raise my hand tentatively and knock gently. I wait two breaths and on my third the door begins to open. I startle at the vision of a familiar face in front of mine, a regular client of mine. “Robert?” I ask, unsure why he is here and not the masked topless man that I was expecting.
“Sophie, come in.” He acts like he was indeed expecting me. My mouth opens and closes as I remember my manners. If Robert notices my surprise, he doesn’t comment on it. “Let me take your jacket,” he asks, standing quickly behind me, peeling my jacket from my shoulders before I’ve even answered him. I try to gather my thoughts. I know this is not Mack for two reasons: One, Mack has brown wavy unruly hair and Robert has tight blond curls, clipped short. Two, I’ve been booked by Robert more times than I can recall. I would recognise everything about him if he were Mack. So why did Mack send me to Robert?
I turn to look back at Robert expectantly, trying to keep my features neutral and not show the ‘what the fuck is going on here, where is Mack?’ question on my mind. “Please call me Rory,” he says softly in his Irish lilt that always melts me.
“Rory?” I ask, confused if I heard him correctly.
“It’s my real name, well Ruairi is but Rory is easier,” he chuckles. “I’d like you to use my real name,” he confirms.
“Use your real name? Why?” I ask, barely able to string the words together because, aside from expecting Mack and getting Robert, this has never happened before.
“Because I would like our booking to be more personal, if you will allow it?”
“Why now?” I ask because we both know I’ve been seeing Robert for years.
“Things are changing Sophie, this is just the beginning.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“It will have to, for now. But it will be the only question that is left that way. Tonight is going to be special. For me but I hope for you too. It’s our beginning after all.”
The beginning of what exactly?is my first thought. I’m caught between utter confusion and a responsibility to be professional and go along with my client’s wishes, even if everything so far seems absurd, and if I hadn’t met Rob— Rory before or knew to trust him, I would be more rattled. I can go along with the changes, but understanding why things have changed seems to be off the table right now. I want to ask if this has anything to do with Mack, but if it doesn’t, I really don’t want to offend him. Instead I say, “Ok Rory, I will try and get used to remembering your actual name, I’ve never had to use someone’s real name in this job, it feels so much more intimate.” I watch as the muscles around his eyes relax subtly and his rich chocolatey eyes look back at me, pleased I’m playing along with this new game of his.
