Convincing You I'm Me

Chapter 1: Flash Back

I walked into the hotel reception, casually wiping down my smart, dry-cleaned suit that smelt of strong aftershave. I took a stride that was confident and breezy, meeting the eyes of women that looked me up and down with a sexy grin as I passed them. The women were beautiful, slim, dressed accordingly to the hotel's reputational guidelines. I studied them as I saw them, moving my eyes over each of their seductive, eye-catching outfits. A few of them dared to approach me, dared to get so close as to speak to me, but I offered them a smile and walked on by, leaving them to groan to themselves in disappointment.

I strolled into the bar, gently tugging at my tie as I propped myself up to a stool at the counter.

"What can I get you, handsome?" asked a young woman with fiery, red hair.

"Gin and tonic," I said. "Add a lemon, I'm being spontaneous."

As she smiled and started pouring my drink, a bright-blonde woman from beside me became noticeable. I met her sharp, blue eyes and I felt an instant attraction, like being pulled into a hurricane against my will.

"Hi there, sugar," she said lightly in a southern accent, nudging herself closer over, holding on tightly to her glass of wine, which made me raise an eyebrow. "Now, I would definitely remember seeing your face around here before."

I noticed that her bright, blonde hair was in waves down her shoulders and bumped up and down as she nudged over her stool. I stared at the chain she wore around her neck, leading to her neckline which was bony and mouth-watering.

"At a hotel?" I said, moving my eyes back up. "And why would you be here so often to know that?"

She shrugged, taking a sip of her wine. "Me and my husband tend to come at least twice a week, you know, to explore avenues."

"Your husband?" I asked, startled, I looked down to her left hand, she wasn't wearing her wedding ring. "And I take it, he isn't with you tonight?"

"No sugar," she said with a cheeky grin. "He isn't."

The barmaid put down my drink, and I stuck a few dollars in her hand, not taking my eyes from this mysterious beauty.

"The name's Diana," she said quietly, putting her hand out. "Diana Hodgkinson."

"Henry," I said, meeting her hand firmly and shaking it. "Reynolds."

"What do you do, Henry?"

"I'm an escort," I said slyly. "Women hire me to date and fuck them and they pay for my mortgage in the process."

Her lips curled into a smile. "You're a little scraggy for an escort. Your nose is too big. Your ears are too small and your teeth," she shivered. "are way too yellow."

I ran a finger across the front of my teeth. "Really?"

"Yes, doll. You should listen to your wife and brush them," she said, pointing a finger. "I'm always telling my husband, teeth are the most attractive quality on a person. But do you men ever listen? Course not. You're happy as long as your banjo string isn't broken after every intercourse. I bet you check, don't you?"

I stared at her and she laughed out. "Course you do," she rolled her head back laughing. "Let me guess, you name your balls too?"

"Yes," I grinned. "The left is called Money. And the right is called Bag."

She took a sip of her wine, widening her eyes. "And yet you can't even afford a decent tux. What exactly are the women paying for? Might as well just date them without all the other. . ." She gave out a genuine belch and thumped her chest. "Stuff."