Author's Note: I would like to thank all my readers in support of the first chapter. I am not sure if this is a typical story or if this would appeal to all readers, so do feel free to let me know what you think of this story. If it's not exactly what you would like to read, I would stop posting further chapters. Writing is a hobby, and I must admit that I can get carried away with a certain theme which strikes me interesting :)
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Chapter 2 - The Call girl and the Businessman
How Much of You Do I Want to Know?
My agency informed me that Mr. Boardmann had hired me for the night again.
"So soon?" I asked Penelope.
She and I had become friends of sorts over the past three years while I was pulling in clients for her. I was not sure if she would have liked me for who I was, without what I brought in. If we had met under different circumstances, I wondered whether our acquaintance would have evolved into friendship.
"You have made a good impression on him. Do you want to work with him tonight? The decision is yours." She said.
It was a very formal way of asking, but it has always been this way with Penelope. At our first meeting, we had a discussion about my previous job experience. Penelope felt that if it had nothing to do with engaging people, then she would give me some pointers on how to talk to people. To make them feel that every word they said mattered. Customer service, as she called it. Thankfully I had plenty of those experiences in my life, even more than required. Penelope was impressed.
"I'm not sure. He seemed a little out of touch with himself. What else did the background check reveal?" I asked.
The advantage of working for Penelope is safety. She does background checks on all potential clients and weeds out those with criminal offences. But not psychiatric problems.
"You mean he is not quite right in his head?" She asked, concerned.
I nodded.
"You know, I can't get hold of medical records of clients. That's confidential. I can only pull those out of public registers. If you don't feel safe with him, then I take your word, I will decline his further offers to our agency." She said.
I wavered over this for a while.
"I think I'll give him one more go. Perhaps I was too quick to judge." I said.
"Alright. Good to go for tonight. Meet at his penthouse suite. Nine o'clock sharp." She said.
The image of his grey, deep-set eyes appeared before me. It hit me hard. I shuddered a little. There was no reason for thinking why he looked the way he did. People just look the way they do. I noted that his emotions were as changeable as weather. I wonder if deep within him, violent tendencies lay dormant; the slightest trigger awakening them.
I had no concrete thoughts that I could count as facts in regards to Mr. Boardmann, labelled as client number 2439, according to the agency registration list. The thoughts were fleeting and since I could not trust myself to judge his character, I thought it better anyhow to voice my concerns to Penelope should anything happen tonight. I had disliked him, but the realization came to me that if I were to judge too quickly, I was no better than those who judged me. I had been judged, no matter where I was in the world; and from the time I could perceive the world. How many times have I been judged at face value myself? I ought to have a higher standard.
Penelope noticing my discomfort, said, "Pablo will be on standby tonight near the penthouse."
I thanked her. Pablo was one of our security personnel. If anything went wrong, all we had to do was call Pablo; that is if our safety was not compromised first.
That night, big, burly but quiet Pablo dropped me off at the penthouse suite and he proceeded to the bar next door. He would wait for my signal; a phone call basically, in the event Mr. Boardmann were to behave violently towards me. He would then come charging in.
To avoid scandal, Penelope was averse to involving the police or other authorities. Many of her agency's clientele were public figures. The fewer scandals, the better the business. The business thrived by word of mouth and private recommendations. She was a shrewd businesswoman in her own right. Sometimes I admired her cunning ways.
...
I knocked on Mr. Boardmann's door. When he opened the door, his face lightened up and he held out his hands like he did yesterday. His hands appeared limp but they shook mine with force. I could feel my fingers being squashed to the bone. Like yesterday, I was the first to pull away.
"Lila. I've missed you this morning." He spoke in a rather sedate tone which betrayed none of the more stirring emotions of yesterday.
"Good evening, Mr. Boardmann." I said, mirroring his composed greeting.
"I hope you slept a little better." I said, not really sure if I wanted to turn it into a question.
"No nightmares for the first time in a month. What do you say?" He asked.
"That's good." I said.
"I have to thank you for working your magic on me." He said.
He made a sudden grasp for my hands again, and shook them with fervour. My fingers felt bruised.
"It was hardly anything. I gave you a head massage. That was it." I said.
"Still, can you imagine all the difference it made to me?" He asked.
It was not the deepness of his voice, but the withholding of some emotion which touched me. But I had no standard answer to that. In fact I did not have any standard answers to emotional questions.
"I have a list of places worthy to visit in this suburb." I said, instead.
I handed him one of my standard notebooks. He took the book and he browsed through my research.
"What the..." He said.
My heart nearly thumped out. What was wrong this time? How could it possibly go wrong?
"Goodness, Lila, you sorted out places based on your own invented scale- you call it the scale of emptiness. The higher up the scale, the emptier the place from tourists." He said, looking at me if I had gone completely crazy.
"Yes, that's right." I said, wondering about the big fuss.
He did not like crowded places, so I had compiled touristic places based on their emptiness and the corresponding off-peak times to visit.
