Matchmaer 08: August

Brooklyn

I sat down at my desk and opened my laptop. I always interviewed my clients and potential companions in person, and Meadow was no exception. What was different about my communication with her was, after the interview, the rest of our communications has been through email and text. It took a little adjusting on my part because I was used to speaking with my clients, but it was much easier for Meadow, and despite communicating almost exclusively through the written word, she was one of my most responsive clients.

I believe I've found a companion for you,

I typed. I pressed enter to send the message and sat back, waiting for her response. Less than two minutes later her response arrived. Now that I had her attention, her responses would be near instantaneous. She was a much faster typist than I was, and I wasn't slow.

That's good news. What's he like?

I smiled.

I told you how this works, but I think you'll like him.

Can you at least tell me if he's cute?

I wouldn't kick him out of my bed.

Does this mystery man have a name, or do I have to guess?

Kane.

Okay. So he's a hottie named Kane? Anything else you'll tell me?

I smiled again as I typed my simple response.

No.

Well... shit.

Now what?

We have to work out the particulars of where and what you'd like to do.

Do you have a suggestion?

How does the Blue Ridge Mountains sound? You said you wanted to get out of the city and that you'd like to be near the mountains or the oceans. The Blue Ridge Mountains are close enough to the Atlantic, about six hours, you could do both, if you wanted.

What about Kane?

He said anyplace cool.

Where's he from?

I smiled as I typed.

You'll have to find that out for yourself.

But he's from someplace hot, I assume, if he wants to go where it's cool?

She was fishing.

Maybe. Or he could be from someplace cool and doesn't want to deal with a lot of heat.

You're not going to tell me a damn thing, are you?

Nope.

Okay, fine, be that way.

So, you're okay with someplace in the Blue Ridge Mountains?

Yes.

Okay, let me work on that, talk to Kane, and I'll be back in touch.

Looking forward to it. When do you think it'll happen?

Assuming Kane is agreeable to the Blue Ridge Mountains... a month or two for me to get everything in place. That puts it around the first of August at the earliest. Is that okay?

Someplace cool in August sounds wonderful.

Cooler. Remember, it may be the mountains, but it's still the south.

Still, it has to be cooler than here! It's hotter than hell outside right now... nearly ninety!

Then let me get to work, and I'll email you as soon as I start getting plans together.

Okay. Thanks, Brooklyn.

You're welcome. I'll be in touch.

Looking forward to it.

I leaned back in my chair and glanced at the clock in the lower right of my screen. I picked up my phone and dialed. I listened to the phone purr as it rang on the other end.

"Hello. This is Kane."

"Mr. Reynolds, Brooklyn Lancaster. I spoke to you a couple of months ago about my services. Do you recall?"

"Yes, Ms. Lancaster, I remember. It's been so long since I spoke to you, I assumed you'd found someone else."

"Are you still interested in my proposal?"

"I suppose. I'm still not sure what I think about being a male escort."

"Hardly that. As I explained, I'm only making introductions. What happens after that is entirely up to you and my client."

I heard him sigh. "Yeah, I suppose."

When I spoke with Kane during the interview, I'd explained how my services worked. I knew then he was unsure, and it was clear he still had doubts. "If you're still uncomfortable with the idea, I can find someone else. This is entirely voluntary," I said, trying to reassure him.

There was a long pause. "No. I'm game."

His words didn't match his tone. "Mr. Reynolds, I need you to be sure about this. It's a waste of your time and my client's money if you don't go into this with an open mind. As I explained, this is no different than a mutual friend introducing you to someone for the first time. You'll have your own room, and you're free to leave at any time. There is no expectation or obligation, other than for you to arrive."

"I understand. It's just so..."

"So?" I prompted.

"Weird."

I rolled my eyes. "May I respectfully remind you that you signed up on my dating app. If you weren't interested in meeting new people, why did you bother?"

"Yes, but to be bought and paid for by some rich woman who—"

"Let me stop you right there," I said firmly, cutting him off. "If you think that's what's happening, we can end this conversation right now. I'm not some madam that lures innocent men and women into a web of depravity and deceit. My clients are thoroughly vetted, and I'm well paid to find someone compatible, someone who has the same likes, desires, and goals. I interviewed not only you, but six other men, and that was after I rejected dozens of other men immediately. I believe you and my client are a good match. You said you were looking for a stable relationship. My client is as well. Having said that, if you go into this with your current attitude, then I've obviously misjudged you and withdraw my offer. Have I misjudged you, Mr. Reynolds?"

Kane was quiet for a long moment. "No."

"Did you lie to me during the interview?"

"No. Everything I told you was the truth."

"Do you think I'm lying to you now?"

He was quiet for another long moment. "No. I'm sorry. I'm... it's just that this is so new. I've never been in this situation before."

I began to relax. It was always tough on the companions. Many of them felt like they were being 'purchased' in the beginning, and the men were often worse than the women. This wasn't the first time I'd had this conversation, and it probably wouldn't be the last.

"I understand, and you're not the first to feel this way. I've had people back out when it came time to make the commitment. The

only

thing I'm asking of you is this... if you agree to do this, I ask you to keep an open mind and to give me as much notice as possible if you have a change of heart."

"Okay."

I nodded to myself. "Now that that's settled, I'd like to ask you to do one more thing for me."

"What?"

"Trust me."

He chuckled. "That's a little harder, but I'll try."

"So, I ask again, are you still interested in my proposal?"

"Yes," he said after a brief pause.

"Excellent. I've spoken to my client, and I have a suggestion for a destination. Would you like to hear it?"

"Yes, please."

"The Blue Ridge Mountains."

"Okay, where's that? They're on the east coast somewhere, aren't they?"

I nodded to myself. "Mostly in North Carolina and Tennessee. My client would also like to visit the ocean, and the Atlantic is only six hours away. Would that be agreeable as well?"

"I've never seen the ocean, so yeah, that'd be great."

I could hear the smile in his voice. "Are you available for dates from the around the beginning of August to the end of September?"

"Pretty much any of those dates. If I'm going to take a month off, it doesn't matter much what days. Being gone that long, there isn't a lot I can do to prepare, so I'm going to have to trust my crews to do their jobs without me."

"Okay. Let me get to work on the details and I'll be in touch with you as the plans firm up."

"Okay. And thank you."

"You're welcome, Mr. Reynolds."

"I'm sorry for... what I said."

"Don't worry. As I said, you're not the first person to have reservations. All I ask is you trust me when I tell you that I have your best interest at heart. No matter how much my client may like you, if you don't like her, then I've failed at my job."

"Now that I've agreed to do this, does your client have a name?"

"Meadow."

"Meadow," he repeated, rolling the name around his tongue. "That's a beautiful name."

"As I said, Mr. Reynolds. Trust me."

He sighed. "My life is in your hands."

I smiled. "Don't worry. I understand very well the responsibility and trust my clients and companions place in me. It's a responsibility that I take very seriously."

He was quiet for a moment. "I trust you. My life is so fucked up already, what have I got to lose?"

I nodded to myself again. "Only the pain, Mr. Reynolds. Only the pain."

.

.

.

Kane

I stepped off the Delta Airlines jet and followed the crowd to get our luggage. It'd been a pleasant flight with only one stop, in Atlanta, where I changed planes for the final leg of my flight. This was only my second time flying, but being pampered by an attractive flight attendant while flying first class made this a far better experience.

I'd stopped at a restroom on the way to get my luggage, so I was near the end of the throng as I approached baggage claim. As I rode down the escalator, I glanced around the area, watching as happy families greeted returning loved ones. As I stepped off the moving staircase, I spotted a stunning woman standing to the side, a small sign held to her chest as she people watched.

I approached. "Meadow?"

She smiled, her entire face lighting up. She was, without question, the most beautiful woman I'd ever met. She was average in height, perhaps five foot five or six, but that was the only average thing about her. Her hair was slightly longer than shoulder length and an incredible red that seemed to make her glow. Adding to that, she had the most astonishing blue eyes, eyes that reminded me of photos I'd seen of perfectly clear mountain lakes reflecting an equally beautiful sky. But more than the color, her eyes were enormous, almost doll-like in their size. Her skin was pale and covered in faint freckles, but rather than diminish her beauty, they enhanced it. Her heart shaped face, full lips, high cheekbones, and perky nose made me think of a Scottish Princess from long ago. She was dressed comfortably in jeans, sneakers, and a pale pink blouse, but her clothing did nothing to hide her curves. This stunning creature had to be a model. She couldn't be anything else.

"Kane?"

I smiled. I even liked her voice. She spoke softly, her voice almost lost in the excited babble of the crowd. I extended my hand. "Kane Reynolds."

"Meadow Larson," she replied, taking my hand.

I was staring and had to force myself to tear my gaze away from her face. I took small comfort that I wasn't the only one staring at the goddess standing among us mortals.

"Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too. Good flight?"

She continued to speak softly, forcing me to listen closely, and she had the most interesting accent. I wasn't a world traveler, but it was like nothing I'd never heard.

"Very good. Been here long?"

"Not long. Maybe thirty minutes."

I nodded. I felt flustered and out of sorts. Part of it was I was rocked back on my heels by her appearance. Why would a woman like her need help finding a date? She probably couldn't go anywhere without some guy wanting to talk to her. Brooklyn told me that Meadow was lovely, but I'd convinced myself she probably also 'had a great personality' or 'was a lot of fun.' She may have a great personality and be a lot of fun, but the hidden meanings behind those phrases certainly weren't true.

More than how she looked, though, was how intently she looked at me with those amazing eyes. It was almost like she was trying to read my mind, and I was both flattered and made uncomfortable by the intensity of her gaze.

"Shall we go get my bags?"

She nodded and I turned toward the conveyors, waiting for the horn and the light to tell me where my two bags would appear. "When did you arrive?" I asked as we walked. When she didn't answer I looked at her.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I asked when you arrived."

"In Asheville?" I nodded. "Yesterday."

I desperately wanted to know everything about her, but I didn't want to bombard her with a lot of questions like I was interrogating a witness. I had a month to get to know her. I held her gaze as she watched my face, and I again felt the flush of... something.

As my time of departure grew nearer, my apprehension over what I was doing rose. A couple of times I'd considered calling Brooklyn and telling her I'd changed my mind, but now that I was here, I was so glad I hadn't. I wasn't so shallow that her looks were the only thing that mattered to me, but spending a month with a flaming haired goddess? If nothing else, I'd have pictures from our time together that I could use to impress my friends back home.

"So, what's our plan for the next month?"

She shrugged. "No real plans. We have a house rented for four weeks. Brooklyn also reserved two rooms for a long weekend in a B&B on Roanoke Island in two weeks. Other than that, we're free to do what we want when we want."

What I wanted was to take her to bed and never leave it. "I definitely want to see the Biltmore Estate."

She nodded in agreement. "I'd like to see that as well. Brooklyn has a special behind-the-scenes tour set up for us."

"She's thought of everything."

Meadow nodded as she smiled again. "She came highly recommended."

Before I could answer, the buzzer sounded and a red light began flashing over one of the baggage carousels. We made our way to where everyone was gathering. As Meadow hung back, I wormed my way into a clear spot. Wonder of wonders, one of my bags was the first one to appear on the slide, thumping to a stop as it began to creep around the conveyor toward me. Before it reached me, my second bag appeared. I grabbed my first bag, set it at my feet, and waited for the second to come within reach.

Bags in hand, I squirmed my way out of the crowd. "Shall we go?"

"This way."

I followed her out of the terminal to the parking deck, stopping behind a white Ford Explorer with a car rental sticker on the bumper. As the hatch motored up, I tossed my bags into the back.

"Would you like to drive?" she asked.

"No, that's okay. You know where we're going," I said as I tossed in my second bag and pressed the button to lower the hatch.

"I'm sorry, I missed that."

"I said, it was okay, since you know where we're going."

She smiled. "Would you mind driving? It's easier for me."

"What? Oh! Sure."

As she handed me the keys, I wondered what she meant when she said it was easier for her. I walked around and opened her door for her and was rewarded with another of her beaming smiles as she settled into the car.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," I said as I closed the door.

I hurried around to the driver's side and slid behind the wheel. "Where to?" I asked as searched for the start button. She didn't say anything, and I looked at her as I pressed the start button, the Ford whirring to life. "You're going to have to tell me where to go."

"Out of the airport, and then make a left onto Interstate twenty-six, north, toward Asheville."

I followed her directions, paying to get out of the parking garage and following the airport signs to the interstate before accelerating along the on-ramp. As I merged onto the interstate, she was poking at her phone before turning it so I could see.

Proceed eight miles on I-26 North...

the robotic voice announced. I followed the prompts, chatting with Meadow about inconsequential stuff to prevent an awkward silence.

"Your accent is interesting. Where are you from?" I asked.

I looked at her when I didn't receive an answer. I couldn't figure her out. When she was talking to me, she was very open and friendly, but other times she seemed to ignore me. If I repeated myself, she'd answer, but I couldn't understand why she ignored me when she did. It wasn't like I was prying or asking deeply personal questions.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Your accent is interesting. I asked where you were from."

She smiled. "Omaha."

I blinked at her. "Nebraska?"

Her smile spread. "Do you know of another?"

"No... but you sound much more... exotic than that. Like maybe you're from England or someplace like that, but not exactly that either."

She smiled as she looked down. "No. I'm from Omaha, born and raised. My accent is because... I'm deaf."

"Deaf?" I blinked at her again. "As in you can't hear?" She nodded. "But... how..."

"I can read your lips."

Suddenly it clicked. If I wasn't looking at her, she couldn't 'hear' me. "Oh, I... uh..." I stumbled, looking for words but not finding any.

She placed her hand on my arm. "It's okay."

"I'd never have guessed," I said slowly, clearly enunciating every word, and then burned in embarrassment. I'd talked to her like I'd talk to anyone else before I knew, and now I was speaking to her like she was an idiot.

"Thank you." She looked at me and smiled. "Go on. I know you want to ask."

"No, that's okay," I said, still burning. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

She rolled her eyes. "You think I don't know I'm deaf? We can either talk about the elephant in the room, or we can try to ignore it. The problem is, if we ignore it, it takes up a lot of space." She grinned. "And you don't have to speak any differently than normal. As long as you look at me and don't talk too fast, I can 'hear' you just fine," she said, making tic marks in the air around the critical word.

I flushed with shame. "Sorry."

She patted me on the arm. "Don't worry about it." Her voice was assuring, and I smiled a small smile as she continued. "So, to answer your questions, yes, I've been deaf since birth. Yes, my parents, brother, and sister can all hear. Due to a genetic defect in my GBJ2 gene, my inner ear, the cochlea, nerves, and such didn't develop properly. Yes, I know sign language. I use ASL. No, there's nothing they can do to restore my hearing. Yes, I've tried to use the bone conducting devices, but they're very uncomfortable and didn't work very well for me, so I don't use them. Yes, I went to a special school for the deaf. That's where I learned sign, to read lips, and to talk. Yes, I live on my own. Yes, I can drive a car. Yes, I have an alarm clock. It has a bright light on it that flashes to wake me up. No, you don't have to treat me differently than anyone else. If you want to talk to me, just tap me on the shoulder or something first." She paused and looked at me. "Anything else you want to know?"

I couldn't look at her. "No," I said, and then remembered what she'd just said. "No," I repeated, looking at her this time.

"Is my being deaf going to be an issue?"

"What? No!"

She nodded. "Okay. I'm sorry if I've embarrassed you, but I think it's best to get this out there. Believe it or not, you not realizing I'm deaf is a compliment."

"I'm sorry."

"And please stop saying that. I don't want or need your pity. The best compliment you can pay me is to treat me like you'd treat any other woman."

I wanted to apologize again. I was completely put off by her forthrightness. She'd clearly come to grips with her handicap, and she'd also become very successful if she could afford to do what she was doing. I didn't pity her, not exactly, but I wasn't sure how to handle the situation either.

"I understand. I'm just... surprised, I guess you could say."

"That I'm handicapped?"

"I didn't say that."

"But you were thinking it. Don't deny it. It's okay. Everyone does. And you're right, I'm handicapped. I can't hear. Short people are handicapped by their height when they need to reach something off the top shelf. Tall people are handicapped when they have to fit into a small car. Fat people are handicapped by their size. Skinny people too. People who wear glasses are handicapped by their defective eyes. I don't know what you do for a living, but as big as you are, if you had to fit into tight spaces, your size would be a handicap." I felt her eyes on me. "There's nothing wrong with being handicapped. It's how you deal with it that matters."