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Love Story Of A Call Girl

One last glance at him, one last glance at the penthouse suite, and then I was a minuscule creature below the grand marble arch entrance of the penthouse suite; the residence of the wealthy in the suburbs. Then I took a few steps further to the boulevard ahead of me. I dared not turn back for I might just change my mind and run back to his suite; knocking like crazy on his door, begging him to let me in. The breeze became more volatile the further I left the boulevard. I walked towards the coastline. Sand made its way into my ballet flats, causing my skin to feel its rough friction against my flats, but I was too determined to be distracted by it. Then I walked towards the rising tide. I saw waves; its crests subtle and light in movement. Now, at the edge of land and sea, the sun had yet to shine and the moon yet to fade away. I felt that I was here; I knew I was here; I could feel my joy and my sorrow; everything and nothing flashed before me. I brushed the flapping shawl away from my chest and touched the icy cold moonstone at my neck. I felt the weight of the world in a tiny moonstone; a stone which had been with me throughout my life, dangling in front of me like a sacred pendant. Gazing at the stone, I knew I could no longer keep it. That time had passed. I wanted to move on, and the stone reminded me of all that was; the pain, the joy, the sorrow.

LiNa_Author · Général
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38 Chs

An attractive man?

"You have so kindly pointed out to me that I am a terrible judge of character without my medication. I see that you do not trust my judgment; however grounded I take myself to be. I see the error of my ways. Do you not see that I might be teasing you?" He asked in a quiet voice.

There was silence in the room.

"No, of course you do not. Those expressive eyes of yours look at me quite perturbed." He said.

"Please, let's just have a normal conversation like other people do." I said.

"I'm not normal, Lila. And so are you, I am apt to think. Both of us stand as we are, quaint and queer at the mercy of the other." He replied.

His next question was again wholly unexpected.

"In your line of work, you must have met many men. Tell me, do you find me an attractive man, Lila? Tell me in all due honesty. I will know if you lie. I have developed the ability to read those eyes of yours, to a certain extent at least." He said.

He again had that languid look about him. Something in his look told me that he was teasing me, whatever my answer was going to be.

My eyes widened. Was it all just because my cheeks turned rosy?

I felt the need to justify my blush first. I was not blushing because I liked the faint hint of a tan which made him look more human. I was blushing because he thanked me for the recommendation. Indirectly he was acknowledging that the notebook I gave him was well utilized, and most of all appreciated. That was enough to make me blush like crazy. Hours of work was invested to a good cause. I was proud of my work, of course but my confidence had taken a plunge ever since I had met him. Because I had no answers to his unusual questions, I doubted the reliability of my notes.

But now my standard notebooks came into the fray again. I was mortified that I could possibly little so little about them. They were, after all, my companions for life.

He had spoken to me in a rather forced manner, although civilly; and it seemed to me that he was a natural at it. Perhaps it was indeed the way he spoke to everyone. When he paid me a compliment, I had to blush because you did not expect a man who is used to getting his way, suddenly say something nice to you.

Now that his complexion gained some colour, he did not look like a pale, ghastly man, just like on the night we first set eyes on each other.

"If a stranger were to thank me, I would have blushed too. People drop all courtesy especially when they know what I do. They whisper, "that's the call girl." but not in a nice way. You have not exactly been the epitome of courtesy either, Mr. Boardmann. You have treated me somewhat..." I said, pausing while trying to find the right words.

"The ever civil and reticent Lila. I'll finish your sentence for you. Snobbishly, rudely, condescendingly? Take your pick. You already know that I'm a brute." He said.

There was humour in his tone and he seemed to enjoy watching me having to conjure proper answers to his questions.

"Therefore you can surely understand why I was so I pleasantly surprised when you thanked me." I replied, choosing not to pick from the list of qualities he decreed.

"Point taken, Lila. Now, let's start again. Pretend I had not noticed you blushing. Do you find me an attractive man? The one who could get your heart racing and make those cheeks of yours blush like the crimson sun?" He asked again.

He seemed to be having fun with his words. He looked much too relaxed as opposed to my more heightened feelings.