Breaking Into the Business by Hadley Knox Page A

said, trying to hide his smile. “Why do we keep doing this? I swear we
have the worst time trying to read each other, don’t we?”
    I
chuckled. “I appreciate that you think I’d be a great pimp for you, but I
already have a job.”
    “That’s
unfortunate,” he said. “I could really use the help.”
    “Just
try to adopt more precise forms of organizing,” I suggested.
    “Are
you sure you wouldn’t reconsider taking the job? You could make some really
good money.”
    “I
really couldn’t,” I said. “But just for curiosity’s sakes, how much does a pimp
usually make?”
    “Well,
you would get a cut of what I earn per hour,” he said. “The percentage is negotiable.”
    “Wow,”
I said. Maybe he had something there.
    No,
I told myself. There was no way I could do that. I had to consider the children
and my reputation. Not to mention the fact that prostitution was illegal.
    “I
could offer fifteen percent,” he said, pushing the issue.
    “I
really can’t, Greg,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
    “Well,
if you change your mind, let me know,” he said.
    “So
you don’t plan on ever getting out of the business?” I asked.
    “Would
that be a condition for dating you?” he asked.
    “I
don’t think I could date anyone that was an escort,” I said. “It would be too
weird knowing you’re out there having sex with other women all the time.”
    “That’s
too bad,” he said. “I think we really could have had something.”
    “Are
you being serious?” I asked. “How do I know you’re not just trying to keep me
coming back as a customer?”
    “I
guess you don’t,” Greg shrugged. “All I can do is to tell you how I feel and
it’s up to you to determine if I’m telling the truth. But do remember that, right
now I’m not at work, so I wouldn’t have a reason to lie to you.”
    “I
have a suspicion that in your line of work you are always on the clock.”
    We
both tried to twist the conversation around to something else at that point. He
asked me about my work, so I told him about the latest few manuscripts I had
edited. I avoided talking about Jeremy Towers, my new assignment and apparently
my new date. Somehow, that just didn’t seem appropriate to bring up at a lunch
with the man I had just paid for sex.
    Once
we ate, I was in a hurry to get out of there. I enjoyed spending time with
Greg, and in an alternate universe, I could even see myself being with him
romantically, but the fact that he slept with countless women on a regular
basis was a deal breaker for me. Although it wasn’t like I had room to talk
when I considered my last twenty-four hours.
     
    A half
hour later, I walked back into my house and set my keys on the bar. So much was
swirling through my mind, but none of that bothered me as badly as I knew it
should.
    I
was on top of the world. Two men had found me attractive enough to have sex
with me. Betsy was helping me to realize my psychotic hang up, and I felt that
I was on a path to overcoming them.
    The
coffee pot needed cleaning and I knew that the dishwasher was full. I walked
into the kitchen, but decided that I could leave that for the maid. She would
be in tomorrow.
    I
realized that for the first time, I didn’t have an impending deadline for my
job, and the children were at school. I could have a free day. One of those
elusive periods of time that never appeared in my life.
    The
phone rang just as I was about to sit on the couch. My heart dropped.
    It
may have been part of my newfound desire to take control of my life or sheer
stupidity, but I decided to answer the phone.
    I
expected the usual heavy breathing, but for the first time since the calls
began, I heard a voice.
    “I
want my money.”
    So
it was a bill collector? Was it some credit card that Frank had taken out while
we were married that I didn’t know about? There was no possible way that one of
my bills was behind. To the detriment of my bank account, I made sure all of my
stuff was