Desire Inc.. Zoe Zarani
right after you two got introduced, your eyes got a five-carat shine I haven’t seen since I’ve known you.’
I shot her a warning look.
‘Yes, boss, I’m well aware that for you men are, like handbags, just an accessory, but maybe it’s time to come out from behind that steel wall of yours.’
‘If I were hiding behind a wall, which I’m not, it would be made of glass, and don’t call me boss. Now tell me everyone’s reaction to the bags.’
‘Then I’ll have to buy a hammer tomorrow. As to the comments. “Decidedly odd.” That’s from Emilia Howell, who has to be ninety if she’s a day. She did say she might bring in her great-granddaughter. That was the low point. Best one, “I’ll take all of them”, from the buyer for Ramona, that new store in the meatpacking district, who I wooed for three months.’
‘Wooed how?’ I took another sip of vodka. Now that Leila was giving me good news, I didn’t mind the burn so much.
‘With persistence and my irresistible charm.’
‘Ah ha!’
She slapped my thigh. ‘Nooo. She’s not a lesbian. And I don’t go to bed with people to get you more business.’
‘You did for Close Encounters.’ When I started the male escort business, Desire, Inc. was on its first legs, and I didn’t stop to think that I had to be careful to keep Close Encounters secret. I scouted for candidates among waiters, bartenders, most of them actors waiting for the next part. I advertised on Craig’s List. I tested every candidate first for his social skills, then if he was good in bed. I wanted to offer clients a real escort, someone they could take to a restaurant or to a party if that’s what they wanted. The follow-up in bed was up to them.
A meal, a drink in a bar then a romp in a hotel room with no commitment on my part, no chance of getting my heart strings pulled, was fun. Until Leila convinced me it was far too dangerous for me to expose myself. She took over for a while, claiming it made having sex with a woman so much more exciting. I no longer felt that taking the would-be escort to bed was necessary. A drink with him, with me playing client of the website, was enough.
‘I’ll go to bed with you,’ Leila said. She skated her hand over my breast. ‘Best boobs in New York City.’ She was teasing me. I scooted away from her touch. With Thorne still buzzing inside me and my feeling flush with success, I might do something stupid. I’d been tempted a few times, curious to know what a woman’s mouth on my body would feel like, but I knew it would change our relationship, maybe even ruin it.
‘What other comments?’
Leila poured herself more vodka, downed it. She wasn’t into sipping. ‘Janice Sterne, who I just read on Page Six got a forty-million-dollar divorce settlement, piped up with “None of the bags at Barneys are this appealing.”’
‘Forty million dollars? That’s a lot of handbags.’
‘A hell of a lot more than twelve so start thinking of enlarging your stock.’
‘No, twelve it is and always will be. And you know why.’
‘I do and I respect that, but if we want to grow –’
‘– No buts.’
Leila got her what-I-have to-put-up-with look, but only for a moment. ‘The comments were great. It got boring. The crazy bags got the best votes.’
I reached over and gave her a sisterly hug. ‘I couldn’t have done it without you. You know that, don’t you?’
Leila lifted my long hair off my chest, twirled a curl around her finger. ‘I do and I also know I deserve a raise, which you can’t afford. I like the barter system.’
I laughed. ‘What’s gotten into you tonight?’
‘Archer Thorne. You should have seen your body when he was looking at you. You were almost writhing. It got me wanting you.’
‘I did not writhe!’
‘I bet you wanted to. Right under him.’
I said, ‘You are full of it, Leila Charoum,’ just as the downstairs buzzer rang. ‘Who the hell is that?’
Leila uncurled herself from the couch and went to let whoever it was in. The building had no intercom. I got up and with great effort slowly zipped up my dress, while Leila was saying, ‘I bet someone forgot her glasses, or left her ring in the bathroom. Happens every time.’
‘It does?’ I winced as I slipped into my heels. ‘I don’t remember that.’
‘You’re getting old.’ She opened the door. I saw a dark shoulder, heard a low murmur. ‘Thanks,’ Leila said. She turned with a big box in her arms, a heavy one from the way she was holding it.
She read the label. ‘Nicole Wenders.’ She was trying to keep a straight face.
‘Is this from you?’
‘No.’ She carefully lowered the box on to the nearest table.
I read the label. Nothing about who sent it. ‘Geoffrey and Giles did it again.’ They always liked to be mysterious and surprise me. After the last presentation they sent me an unlabelled parcel with a three-pound box of Max Brenner chocolates.
‘I’ll get scissors,’ Leila said. We kept them in the office.
‘Takes too long.’ I tore at the box, broke a nail but got it open. ‘Wow!’ This beat the chocolates by a mile.
Leila peeked in. ‘Now we can really celebrate.’
Six bottles of Dom Perignon were staring up at me. A small envelope peeked between two of them. Leila took one bottle out, removed the foil, unwound the metal wire.
I left the note where it was. I was getting a funny feeling. Geoffrey and Giles were both in AA. ‘What are you doing?’
‘What does it look like? Opening it up.’
‘It’s warm.’
‘First two bottles are ice cold. Very thoughtful of them. Aren’t you going to read the note?’ Her eyes were gleaming with a mischievous light.
‘What do you know about this?’
‘That at a hundred and fifty dollars a bottle I can’t afford even one.’ Leila reached in the box, extracted the small envelope, opened it, handed me the note.
I noticed that you had run out of champagne. You deserve to celebrate. The other six bottles are with me, waiting for you. Well, five bottles. Tonight I’m emptying one to celebrate you.
Archer
He’d written his cellphone number in one corner. I showed Leila the note. ‘How does he know I celebrate with champagne?’
Leila threw her hands up in exasperation. ‘I can’t believe you! Everyone celebrates with champagne.’
‘How did he know we’d run out?’
‘Come on, Nicole. Relax. Enjoy the attention. He’s obviously smitten.’
‘He’s just showing off how rich he is.’
‘Cut it out. Have fun with him. Since when have you been so resistant to getting laid? I bet he’s a fantastic sex machine.’
I would have liked that, but there was something about him that scared me. He’d gotten to me in a way I hadn’t experienced before. I felt him on my skin. All over. The soft liquid feeling I got after a great massage. ‘This man is going to be trouble.’
‘And I’m going to have fun watching.’ Leila popped the cork, poured the white foam into our empty vodka glasses. She raised her glass. ‘Here’s to success in more ways than one.’ She clinked glasses. ‘Love you even if I can’t have you.’