For days the presence of the card in her bedroom intrigued her. Life went its usual course and nothing had changed substantially, apart from a nagging in her gut that always seemed to return to the same
question: what if? On Thursday, when she returned home half-tipsy from a dinner with the board of directors, she cracked. She flung the drawer open
with a force that catapulted three of Véro’s flimsy notes onto the hardwood floor. She excavated the card and traced the meaty part of her right index finger over the golden numbers. What if?
Her heart thumped beneath her ribcage as she punched in the numbers. She stupidly glanced down at her chest to check if the excessive thudding might be visible but the only thing she noticed was the blood red blouse she’d worn that day.
“Oui,” a voice said, its tone no-nonsense but welcoming enough.
“You’ve reached Robyn.”
“H—Hi,” Nicki stammered, her nerves already shot to pieces.
“Samantha Glorieux gave me your number. I’d like to make an appointment.”
“Of course.”
“What’s the procedure?” Nicki composed herself. She conjured up the dozens of investor meetings she had successfully led and the hundreds of people she employed.
“Give me a time and place and I’ll be there.” A perplexed silence took hold of Nicki. That was it? Wasn’t she supposed to choose? Maybe voice a few preferences? Tell Robyn she preferred blondes?
“I’ll be discreet.” She shouldn’t have made this call half-drunk. She should have thought this through beforehand and picked a hotel where they could meet. Surely she couldn’t let this woman come to
her flat.
“The George V. Sunday. Three o’clock.”
“AM or PM?” This question brusquely reminded Nicki of what she was setting herself up for—hardly a Sunday afternoon activity.
“PM. I’ll text you the room number.”
“Excellent. I look forward to it already.” Robyn’s voice seemed to smile in her ear. “I charge a thousand per hour and only take cash.”
“Okay.” Nicki hid the tremble of surprise in her voice. If Sam was right—and why would she lie?—and this woman was worth every cent, then it would be quite the treat. Or maybe her rates had inflated, just like the price of so many other luxury commodities.
“See you Sunday.” Her hands shook when she put down the phone and her brain was trying to keep up with what she’d just done. And that was only the beginning.
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Fanfiction"I was single for a long time and this service was recommended to me by a dear friend." Sam slipped a business card towards Nicki's fingers. "I'm a satisfied customer."
