Escort

1. Rachel.

The brisk air bit at my cheeks, causing goosebumps to raise on my arms while I tugged my thin coat around my body tighter. The music blared in my ears as they still rang; even as the heavy metal door clicked closed behind me. I blinked, squinting at the black SUV with its lights off sitting in front of the back door. The employee area, off-limits to anyone that didn't have a direct reason to be there. An invitation.  My eyes struggled to narrow in on the driver, but it was impossible to see much of him. 

I did not recognize the man behind the wheel, or the vehicle itself. However, I knew the intention. A few other clients lingered around the area, a couple of the other girls faded in and out of view. I lit up a cigarette, the tobacco smoke mixing eagerly with the scent of lingering alcohol, autumn air, and faint sweat. 

Minutes passed, and the vehicle stayed, until I extinguished the end of my smoke, carelessly dropping it to the ground and preparing to go back inside the warm building. It was then that the overly tinted window slid down on the SUV. Intrigued, I approached slowly. My hands burrowed into my pockets. Before reaching the threshold, I could distinctly make out that the driver was wearing sunglasses. In the middle of the night. No, correction, at 3 am. 

As I bridged the gap between the vehicle and myself, I squinted, being made aware that this mysterious man in front of me wore a black sweatshirt, the hood of which, pulled up over his head. He didn't turn to face me when I reached the window, my breath caught in my throat as I did.

It's just another client. My brain offered me the reassurance I needed as I inhaled a sharp breath, smiling sweetly at the man in front of me regardless of his off-putting appearance. 

"What can I do for you?" I offered. 

He smiled, but not a genuine smile. The sort of smug, arrogant smile that you get out of somebody that is intentionally withholding information from you. His hand extending outwards towards me,  I could see a small folded piece of Yellow sticky note paper poking out from between his nubby fingers.

I rushed to grab it as the door opened behind me and two drunk girls were led out of the club. Two clearly intoxicated, hyper fixated men holding onto both their arms. I recognized the girls as co-workers. New girls. I didn't know their names. The four of them laughed and flirted with one another.

 A small gust of warm air invited me back towards the building as the door closed loudly behind the group. A gust of wind catching me from the other side of my body at exactly the same second. A small but welcomed distraction, only for a moment. Regretfully, my attention rapidly resorted back to the man in the SUV. The driver nodding approvingly at me, just once. A sly smirk appearing on his face as he backed the SUV away from the back of the building before even being noticed.

I opened the note. It was only a simple address, nothing else. Not even a name. Not even a time.

1258, Vendetta Ave. Lakeside Inn. 104.

I clutched the note roughly within my clenched palm the entire time I walked. Every once in a while a chill in the air making me shiver, just a little. Even in California, it was somehow improbably easy for me to be cold. Just my luck, I supposed. 

The distance was short. I didn't bother to get in my car. I didn't like to take it for this kind of thing if it could be at all avoided. That sometimes meant taking an Uber or a taxi to get to client addresses. My car could be easily recognized, the last thing I needed was to be stalked by some creep outside of a job. 

I hurried down the vacant street. A street lamp buzzed overhead as the lightbulb within it dimmed from pale yellow, to nothing. Letting me know I truly was alone out here in the dark. The autumn leaves crunched under my feet. Behind a fence a dog snarled; causing me to jump back with a small gasp.

Sighing, I roughly shoved the note into the back pocket of my old black shorts, but not before unfolding it to take a mental note of that address one last time.

Within 2 minutes I found myself heading hesitantly up the stairs to an old cheap motel building. It reeked of cheap cologne, stale cigarettes, and piss.

I rolled my eyes as I passed by one of the rooms, having heard a loud male voice screaming incoherently. Drunk.

There was a lump in my throat that I could not swallow, no matter how hard I tried. This was just a part of the job, so why was I so nervous suddenly?

It's not like this was anything new to me. You go in. You do what they tell you. You make them happy, then you leave. Go back to stripping, go home, go get drunk at another shitty bar. Go sleep it off. Go back to work the next day.

I closed my eyes as I reached the door. 104. Before I could knock, it flew open. I crossed my arms, preparing myself for the same speech I had given again and again. Except I didn't say the speech at all. 

It was immediately apparent that the person opening the door wasn't the person in the SUV. A red flag. 

SUV guy had darker skin. Thicker lips. A tense jaw. An unwelcoming demeanor about him. 

This guy, on the other hand, was obviously taller, even though the SUV driver had been sitting down, it was immediately something, that working in this profession, was easy for me to pick up on. He was also strikingly more pale. Another visible difference right away was the tattoos he didn't bother to cover up; an entire sleeve on one arm. He had honey eyes and auburn hair. His body was relaxed and he almost grinned at me once he saw me.

I had never seen him before. It was unlikely to see an SUV parked outside that back entrance to begin with, but even more unsettling for this man to so clearly not be the one from that vehicle.

I stammered for a moment in the doorway, struggling through small shivers from my brisk walk to choke out any words. "Hello, my name is Rachel. I got your note."

I gave my best attempt at a smile.

He looked me up and down for a moment, his expression hardening as he grabbed me tightly by my arm; hurriedly shoving me into the small unfamiliar space of dingy motel room. Locking the door quickly behind me. 

Draft 2.