I'd like to thank Wolf Vixen for editing this story. It was inspired by an amazing HLD story, and also has inspiration taken from Stangstar06, Slirpuff, and many others. Despite the title, it is not about the Final Fantasy video game. It is also a work of pure fiction. My writing may not be as good as the aforementioned authors, but I had a great idea for a story I wanted to put on paper. With that in mind, feel free to leave comments or critiques, positive or negative. I hope you enjoy the first two chapters of the story!
I
To say that her situation was unusual was an understatement.
Whenever she stopped by a potential clients place for the first time, she had a basic idea of what to expect, but there was something that caught her off guard when Ryan answered the door and invited her inside.
It wasn't because of how he looked; he was handsome enough, probably in his mid-30's -- about seven, maybe eight or nine years older than her? Right around six feet tall, she guessed.
Madeline explained her client in detail before Trixie agreed to take the job, but going over little things such as a name, physical description, likes/dislikes, cost, confirmation of a clean bill of health, and sexual requests didn't exactly tell the whole story of what she was getting involved in.
The warm dΓ©cor of the house wasn't typical of her usual clients. Neither was his pleasant attitude and greeting.
"Hello, you must be Trixie I presume? Please, come in," Ryan held the door open for her and welcomed her in.
Trixie straightened her blue dress out and demurely stepped inside, barely making a sound in her high heels. She offered her hand, "It's nice to meet you Mr. Patton."
"Please, it's Ryan," he said, gently taking her hand and escorting her inside, "I hope the place wasn't too hard to find?"
"No, not at all Ryan," she pleasantly smiled back.
As he started to close the door, something caught his eye, "Wow, is that your Mustang out there? I heard it pull up a few minutes ago but didn't think to associate it with you."
She smiled slyly, "Why yes it is. A little birthday present to myself last year. 2011 GT..."
"...5.0 liter V-8, 412 horse I believe, and an absolutely gorgeous red," he interrupted.
"Oooo, so close. You had everything right but the color," she smiled.
Ryan raised an eyebrow. He started to speak, but she put a finger to his lips before he could stammer his response out.
"The color is Race Red, not Gorgeous Red," She winked and walked inside the house. With her back turned to him, she couldn't help her smile.
Ryan snickered as he closed the door, "TouchΓ©. I have half a mind to send you back," He walked her to the couch, offering for her to have a seat, "Charlene might be jealous."
It was Trixies turn to raise an eyebrow. She tried not to let her confusion show.
Charlene? Was this one of those jobs where the guy wanted a girl on each arm, literally?
But she did analyze his smile when he said that. It wasn't cocky, or condescending. It wasn't even teasing, really. It was more... playful and good-natured.
"2012 Dodge Challenger. You might have seen her when you pulled up? Normally she's in the garage but it's such a nice day I had to let her out today. I had to show off her beautiful tiger stripes. She might get a little jealous of your little Race Red beauty."
Trixie smiled and shook her head, "The blue one outside is yours, I presume. I did even notice the cute little tiger stripes."
He smiled, "That's the one. Not sure if cute was what I was going for."
"Well, it depends. If I called the tiger stripes on the car cute, you wouldn't go for it. No man would, of course. But what if I called
you
'tiger'. Wouldn't it be cute," Her smile radiated confidence as she cocked her head to the side in question.
Men are so easy,
she thought.
I'm already reeling him in, wrapping him right around my finger. This job should be simple enough.
Ryan stammered and rubbed the back of his head, trying to figure out how to respond. Ungracefully he pretended like she never said it. "I just got her only a few months back," Ryan also resisted the urge to correct her and tell her it wasn't blue, but in fact Blue Streak Pearl. Instead he just smiled.
Trixie laughed but rolled her eyes, "Her. Her... now why do guys always refer to their vehicles as females?"
"Well I'm not sure where it originated, but have you ever seen the movie Full Metal Jacket?"
Crossing her legs and leaning her chin on her hand, she shook her head no.
"I'll spare you the details, but it's basically a Vietnam movie they made back in the 80's. In basic training, they all named their rifles. One of the guys named his rifle Charlene; I bet you can now guess where I received inspiration for the name of my Challenger."
She looked at Ryan, "So why did they all name their rifles?"
Ryan blushed, "Uhm, well, according to the movie..."
Trixie smiled at his awkwardness. She actually found it cute, especially when she saw a light shade of red surface on his face. Feeling a little sorry for him, she tried to bail him out anyway, "You know, you don't need to be embarrassed. As you well know, I am a big girl and have seen and heard all kinds of things."
Ryan laughed a little, "I know, I just..." He stammered trying to find the right words, "Let's just use the PG version and say it was the closest thing to a female they'd be seeing for a long, long time. The Gunny also told them they'd be married to the weapon and they'd better be faithful to it."
"I see," she smiled. She sat back and put both of her hands on her knees, taking in everything around her, "So are you married to Charlene? Are you the kind of guy who is faithful?" Trixie stared at him intently with her big blue eyes, somewhat flirtatiously but also trying to gage his reaction. Whether he knew it or not, it was a setup question.
Ryan returned her gaze with his own soft eyes, "Not exactly, and yes. I'd say Charlene isn't so much the love of my life but more of a fling. Nonetheless, I've always been faithful to whomever I was with." He laughed a little, "I may not be in the majority these days, but I still hold faithfulness extremely important."
Trixie couldn't seem to figure Ryan out. She'd been with a lot of guys before so she knew all the types. She took pride in the fact that she could get into the minds of most guys and figure out what made them tick. It served her well and was an excellent safety precaution which was extremely important in her line of work. Besides, the few psychology classes she took back in college she really enjoyed; unlike most people who brain-dumped what they learned in school, she not only retained but put into practical use.
She was intrigued with why he wanted her, let alone why he requested her from Madeline by name. At least that's how Madeline explained it; he didn't say he wanted just any of her girls, or any blonde, or any girl with a double-D rack. He requested Trixie specifically.
Ryan obviously wasn't what she referred to as The Scum. Those were the kind of guys that had no redeeming qualities, often lived in filth, treated women like shit, and had basically given up on life. She'd never allow herself, nor would Madeline allow anyone in her agency to do business with anyone like that; she pitied any woman that would. There was a difference between a high-priced call girl and a street walker, after all.
Ryan also didn't seem to be The Player. The Player was a classic smooth talker who had one goal: getting into a girl's pants by saying whatever she wanted to hear. He was friendly enough, like one, but unlike a Player he seemed to be genuine. She hadn't been seduced by a Player in years (well before she was hired by Madeline) and was confident it would take a lot for one to trick her. A Player could be sniffed out by the way they'd look at you when they thought you wouldn't notice. For example, when she first walked in the house she immediately found a mirror on the far wall in which she could observe Ryan. His eyes initially looked at her ass when she walked to the couch, but he immediately looked back up. That showed he was male, but still had at least a little respect for her. A Player was definitely someone who would name their car, but her instincts told her Ryan didn't fit the definition.
Upon entering the house earlier she noted it was decorated very nicely, almost as if a woman had done it. There were no pictures in the house, though. His ring finger did look like it may have had a tan line, but she couldn't be sure. This made her wonder if he was one of The Married. These are the guys that clean up nicely, say the right things to the escorts, and seem too good to be true; because they were.
They were the married men looking to break free from the 'ball and chain' and have a little fun on the side. Maybe the wife was stuffy, or maybe a divorce was too high of a price for the guy. It didn't matter and Trixie didn't care. Besides, when she asked Ryan about his faithfulness to his Challenger, it was a subtle metaphor on her part asking if he could be faithful to a woman. Ryan didn't blink or hesitate for a single second when he said he'd always been faithful to whomever he was with. He was very convincing.
Maybe he was simply one of The Rich. These were the kind of guys that had no self control or discipline and bought whatever they felt like. Still, the house he lived in wasn't overly expensive; Trixie believed it was a nice moderate home, but not a multi-million dollar home. He did have a fairly expensive car for the average guy, but she'd seen more expensive. She'd
owned
more expensive.
Even as she tried to quietly analyze him, she continued talking with him about anything and everything. At least an hour of back and forth conversation between the two had gone by.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't offer you anything to drink," Ryan said standing up, embarrassed. "I'm a rotten host. I guess I got caught up in the conversation. What can I get you? Red wine? Beer? Water? Soda?"