Dateless {Incomplete}

1 - Where The Problem Began

Being that I was at the age of 19 but was accused of being much, much older on multiple occasions, my PR manager figured that, in order to keep my 'youthful bachelorism' I would need to start bringing dates to events. What the hell does that even mean? Despite the words they used, I agreed that - yes, I should look like I'm trying to find a girlfriend, even when I wasn't. I was almost eighteen and lord only knows my mom was up my ass about not having more than one girlfriend in my life. So, that's how I ended up getting briefed by Theresa Claire about how TLC Escorts worked. I'd heard a lot about escorts, but I knew nothing about them. So after a quick explanation, I took what they called an 'Escort Assignment Survey' which would help them determine which girl would be best suited for my tastes. Once finished, Theresa came in, and quickly scanned the paper. "Oh my."

"What? Oh tell me I didn't end up with results that don't match anyone." I sighed, slightly heavy hearted. I just wanted to make my team happy, after all they had done so much for me.

"Oh no that's not it. You've matched with Samantha Porter. It's just that she's pretty new so we're not sure how she'll come off at an actual event."

Oh wonderful.

I ended up hiring Samantha for the Billboard Music Awards that were coming up, despite the fact that it wasn't for a good two weeks. Theresa spoke up:

"Would you like to have a complimentary session with her before you go to this event? We offer a small lunch session so you can get comfortable with your escort." She offered with a forced smile, her skin moving as much as it could with how much Botox it was filled with.

"Yeah, Yeah, that's fine." I nodded stretching out in my seat. The woman got up from her seat, 6 inch platforms scratching the tile below the thin soles of the shoes. I winced at the sound slightly, grabbing my phone from my pocket as I waited. How had I even ended up here? I was going to pay someone to be my date. Like she was some sort of object. That was crazy to me. Soon enough, the white framed glass door opened again, and in stepped a pretty tall brunette. When she turned to face me, I got a pretty good view of her. The frame of her torso was held by subtle shoulders, holding up a perfect posture as she walked toward me. Wider hips swayed from side to side before she sat down, crossing her tan legs lady like, despite the fact she was wearing white ripped jeans, and a flowing magenta crop top. She looked my age, and she looked like a well rounded person - that was until she spoke.

"Well damn, aren't you a piece of work?" She giggled, her warm voice filled the room, thanks to the emphasis she had put on 'damn'.

"Apparently I am. Aren't you supposed to be ' a classy, clean mouthed, and proper woman'?" I asked, speaking of the company's statement: "Providing only the classiest, clean mouthed and proper women in the escort business."

"Ah, see that's where you're wrong. I'm not a woman business speaking. I'm a girl because I'm not twenty yet. So I can be the most classless, foul mouthed, and clumsy bitch I want to be. Since I'm not a 'woman'. Plus, you're hot. You're not a man who needs a woman. Speaking business wise here, since I don't know you personally. Before you ask, I don't live under a rock, you're Shawn Mendes. You should be lucky some of the other girls in this company weren't assigned to you. They would be drooling, and blinded stupid by your presence. Not to say they are stupid, since they're all educated, due to requirements of the company." She explained, crossing her arms. I couldn't speak. My mouth was slack jawed, and I just looked at her in awe. This is the girl they wanted by my side? God, Andrew would have my head if I brought her to the BMA's with me. Soon, the silence caused by my lack of reply was filled with her moving to me, and shutting my mouth. "Close your mouth, hon'. You'll catch flies."