Elle (Sample)

Chapter Two

Elle had always thought there was a possibility she was claustrophobic, but as the lift came to a stop, there was little doubt in her mind. Whilst Dean rang the emergency call button, her chest heaved with quick, shallow breaths and she struggled to swallow down the acid building in her throat. The space suddenly felt smaller, too small, as her face buzzed with lack of oxygen.

"So where are you from?" Dean asked.

"Excuse me?" She replied incredulously. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I can barely breathe."

     Being snappy with her clients wasn't part of the deal, and she often kept her patience if she could help it, but her mind only had room for all-consuming fear at that moment. Worries of her behaviour were pushed firmly aside.

"In my experience, drawing attentiont to it only makes it far worse," he said with a shrug.

     As the emergency call was finally answered, a bored voice droned over the lift's intercom. Dean calmly explained their predicament, acting as though they weren't(i) stuck in a confined space, the walls enclosing on them every passing second.

"We'll have a technician with you in the next half hour," the ambiguous voice promised, "so please remain calm and seated Do not try to exit the lift."

      Like that had even crossed my mind, she thought exasperatedly, wringing her hands as she leant against the list wall. 30 minutes was torturously long to be stuck with someone she didn't know, especially under the circumstances.

"Stratford. I'm from Stratford."

"I see," Dean said, absorbing the information with a subtle nod. "Do you have any siblings? Pets? Who of your family are you closest to?"

     Dean threw the barrage of questions at her in quick succession, and subconsciously it seemed to help. Her thoughts were diverted to remembering each question he asked, and providing him an accurate answer.

"No siblings, or pets. Only ever been close to my Grandmother. And son."

"Your son," Dean repeated, eyebrows raising a fraction. "Do you only escort or is this just a sideline from your career?"

      At his insinuation, she could have laughed. Escorting was a desperate man or woman's game, and any self respecting person with a career surely wouldn't bother.

     Elle could see him studying her, her previous answer having ignited interest, and wondered if a part of him was disgusted. Perhaps he thought a mother should be doing something more respectful with her time – that she should have stability enough not to resort to this. She'd told herself the same many times, and the guilt weigh heavily on her shoulders.

"No career," she said with a blush, hesitant to admit it to the clearly successful, career driven man before her. "It's difficult to develop one when you have a child at 17 – little time, money or opportunity to further yourself."

     Whilst she spoke, Dean watched her attentively, offering her a solemn nod as he pursed his lips. Without realising, Elle's panic attack slowly subsided, her heart rate descending and the shudders of her extremities slowing instead to steady shaking.

"Is that why you escort? Lack of opportunity and money?"

"What about you huh?" She asked, hoping to shift the attention to him instead. "Why does someone like you even need an escort? You must have women lining up to date you."

"I'll choose to take that as a compliment, so thank you, but I asked you a question first."

     Dean's smile spread wide across his features, but Elle didn't miss the ounce of pity he wore in his eyes. She hated it, hated it with every fibre of her being. That look was given to her all too often, and she didn't need or want it. Pity wouldn't help her.

"Money is the motivator for me. I gave up on my dreams so I can build his. My chances of earning a similar wage in a more dignified role are slim to none, and I can't get by on any less. Previous to this, we got by on my Grandmother's pension and I worked nights at a supermarket. There were some days just before I started escorting that all I had to feed my son was bread and water. He went to bed clutching his stomach with hunger. I vowed never ever to put him through that again – I can't be selfish, and if this is what it takes to provide for him, this is what I'll do."

      The pity fed on her words, growing until his eyes were brimming with it. Elle wished she hadn't shared, or had answered with something generic instead of honestly giving a piece of herself. But it wasn't in her nature. She gave too much to people, and she thought perhaps that was part of the problem. Hadn't she given too much to her parents when they were alive, to Trent's dad before he left? She was a giver, and people only ever walked all over givers.

"I can't trust people," Dean said simply. "Hiring an escort for a date is far less risky than another woman who is usually more interested in my money than me. At least with you, I already know you're in it for the money."

      Both of their admissions sat stagnantly in the air as they acknowledged each other in silence. Elle would never understand things from his perspective, or how difficult it was for him to question every relationship he had, because she would never have a substantial amount of money. And Dean wouldn't understand what it was like to resort to anything to keep his child fed – any children he had would surely eat 3 square meals a day, with an empty pantry being a phenomenon to them.

"You seem like an intelligent woman, Elle. There's little doubt in my mind that someday, someone will see that and give you an opportunity to make something of yourself."

     Fuck, Elle thought as she tried to rid of the tears culminating in the corners of her eyes. She didn't often cry, even as a child it was more likely for her to get angry than sad, but Dean had just voiced the one hope she was holding onto – that someone would see potential in her, and save her from living on the breadline.

     As she struggled to find the words to reply, the lift gave another sickening lurch and ascended, bringing Elle back to the realisation that they were stuck.

"All fixed," a chirpy tehcnician's voice sounded. "We found a power outtage in one of the generators and all should be okay from now on."

      Whatever the technician said, there was no way in hell that Elle would be going back into a lift that evening. She and Dean exited it arm in arm, the heart-to-heart they'd shared unspoken of as they set to business and headed in the direction of the event room.

Author's Note:

Hey! I'm going to try not to bombard with updates, but there may be a couple this weekend just to get this book off the ground.

Let me know what you think thus far :) I've got the plot lined out, but love hearing your ideas.

Hayles <3