Diary Of A High Price Escort Ch 27

It was rather late when I arrived home after my appointment with the foursome of high rollers and the impromptu threesome with Wendy and her massive strip club bouncer. I took a quick shower and then retired for the night.

I slept in Tuesday morning until almost nine-thirty waking up feeling fresh and rested. After slipping into a pair of satin lounging pants and the matching top, I headed for the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. While waiting for my morning coffee to brew, I started my laptop and logged onto the company website. I had a new email from Daddy.

He wrote: "Angel, I received a request for an appointment that I'm sure you'll be interested in. Our client is a wealthy businessman who buys and sells small manufacturing companies. He has requested someone to accompany him on a day trip to act as his administrative assistant. You'll be responsible for taking notes during his meeting with the owner of a business he is attempting to buy. After the meeting, you'll be dining with him at a well-known local eatery. Of course, for the business part of the appointment, you should be dressed in classy business attire and something more elegant for dinner. This appointment is scheduled for Wednesday, and since there is some travel involved, you'll need to be ready to leave by six in the morning. Please confirm as soon as possible so that I can advise the client you'll be providing the necessary services. Thanks, Daddy."

I like the idea that I'm becoming Daddy's go-to girl for appointments with his higher-end clients. They are always big tippers and usually provide an opportunity to enjoy the finer aspects of life.

I replied to his email that I was happy to handle this appointment and asked him to answer me with the details of where and when I needed to be that early in the morning. While I awaited his reply, I completed my report on the Monday night appointment, leaving out the part about Wendy and her big black stud.

I freshened up my coffee and had a toasted muffin, but apparently, Daddy was not online at the time. I'd check back around noon for his answer. I started a load of laundry and recalled that I needed to restock my hosiery drawer, so I changed into casual clothes planning on heading out after lunch.

Shopping for lingerie ranks right up there on my list of favorite activities that don't involve a stiff prick, and after again checking for an email from the boss, I grabbed my purse and left to have some shopping fun.

Since I recently relocated, I decided to try and find a new lingerie shop and knew there was a Victoria Secrets in the Conestoga Mall, so I headed there first. As I walked through the mall looking for VS, I spotted a small boutique called; Maxine's and was instantly drawn to the items in their display window. As I entered the shop, I was greeted by an older woman whose appearance told me she seldom wears anything from this shop.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

I smiled and replied, "I'm looking for your hosiery."

"Oh yes, please follow me," she said as she walked from behind the sales counter.

As she walked deeper into the shop, my assumption that she doesn't shop where she works was confirmed. She wore flat shoes and a long skirt that did nothing to hide the waddle in her step.

"Here we are," she said as she placed her hand on the table holding their stock of stockings.

I started flipping through the items, finding a lot of pantyhose, which I never wear, but I did find a nice assortment of nylon stockings that I could restock my drawer. I even found three pairs of seamed silk stockings that I added to the pile of hosiery I'd be buying.

I handed her the seven pairs I planned to purchase and then asked, "Do you have a lingerie department?"

"Yes, but since I'm new here, I don't know how extensive our inventory is," she said.

I followed her to a tiny rack that contained their collection, and in less than five minutes, ruled out any of their offerings.

"I think the stockings will be it for today," I said.

As I paid for my purchase, I thought, "I can cross Maxine's off as my go-to lingerie shop in this part of town.

The Victoria Secret shop appeared to be in the middle of a remodel, and I decided not to venture into that mess.

I arrived home a little after three and immediately checked my email. Daddy had replied, "Angel, I think you're going to enjoy this appointment. The client's name is Blake; his driver will promptly pick you up at your place at six tomorrow morning. The client has asked me not to provide any details, but I'm confident you will have a wonderful day with him. Thanks, Daddy"

I've become comfortable with most Elegant Escorts clients and Daddy's assessment of their standing not to worry too much about not being afforded more details of the appointment. Since Daddy was adamant that I'd enjoy my day with Blake, I could only guess what he had in mind.

I didn't bother replying to Daddy's email.

After laying out the same business suit that I'd worn when I met with Barry's boss several months ago, I began thinking about what I would wear for dinner with Blake.

I ruled out white due to the season and black just because I've worn that so often lately. I was left with something in blue or perhaps red. Since I had no idea what would entice Blake most, I decided for the shock and awe of a tight-fitting mid-calf red dress that featured a seductive plunging neckline. "Oh yeah, if this dress doesn't pique his interest, there must be something wrong with him," I thought.

I carefully folded the dress and, along with a pair of five-inch red stilettos, placed them in a small suitcase.

I set my alarm for four-thirty, knowing I'd need to shower, do my hair, make-up, and be dressed by five-forty-five. The night before an appointment, I fantasize about my client, would he be handsome, muscular, and have a satisfying hard cock, and tonight was no different. Sleep avoided me for nearly an hour while I thought how Blake and I would pleasure each other after his business meeting.

It was still dark outside when the blare of my alarm startled me from a restful sleep. "No time to waste," I thought as I jumped out of bed and headed for the bathroom.

A quick shower, modest make-up, and a stylish wave in my long blonde locks took a half hour. I slipped one of my favorite black satin thongs up my legs, followed by a pair of thigh-high nylon stockings. I opted for a lacy black bra that matched the plunge of my dress's neckline. A white silk blouse that buttoned up and featured a conservative bow tie at the neckline would give me a business look for our meeting. I shimmied into the knee-length pencil skirt, making sure my blouse was smoothed perfectly beneath. The four-inch black leather heels set off the entire ensemble. As I slipped the matching suit coat on, I surveyed my appearance in the full-length mirror. Perfect for a classy administrative assistant, I thought. It was five-fifty-five.

I watched out my front window for an approaching vehicle, and a minute or two later, the bright headlights of a dark SUV rounded the corner onto Magnolia. This had to be Blake.

I quickly grabbed my purse and suitcase and headed downstairs. As I exited my apartment, I heard a car door close, and by the time I walked to the front, he was standing on the sidewalk.

"Good morning, Blake," I said as I approached him.

"I'm your driver, Simon," he answered.

"Mr. Harper will meet us on the runway," Simon said.

Simon opened the back door of the SUV and offered his hand to assist me in climbing up into the car. After placing my suitcase in the back, he slipped into the driver's seat and pulled away after buckling his seat belt.

As we drove onto the interstate and sped up, the first inklings of a new day began to show in the sky.

"How long before we arrive?" I asked.

"Just a few minutes," he answered.

Simon slowed to a more reasonable speed and pulled onto the next exit ramp. It appeared to lead to know where nothing but barren cornfields on either side of the narrow road.

He slowed even more and then turned onto a dusty dirt road; I was more than a little worried that somehow, I was being taken hostage, and Simon would shortly begin ravaging me.

Those fears were waylaid when I saw a large building with a sign above an expansive door that said, "Higgins Field" I instantly understood his remark earlier that Mr. Harper would meet us on the runway.

It was an airport, or perhaps it could better be described as an airfield.

"Here we are," Simon said as he rounded the corner of the hanger.

Sitting on the concrete tarmac was a sleek-looking airplane. The letters "BH" were painted on the tail. Simon stopped, so the door from the SUV was aligned with the short stairway to the plane.

One rather handsome gentleman waited at the bottom of the stairs while a second stood just inside the plane's door.

"Enjoy your flight," Simon remarked, retrieving my suitcase from the back of the SUV and handing it to the guy at the bottom of the stairs.

"I'm Captain West," the older man inside said as I started up the short stairway.

"Nice to meet you; I'm Angel," I answered as I reached the top and extended my hand toward his.

"This is our co-pilot, James," Captain West said as James lifted the stairs, closed and latched the fuselage door, and then scooted past me to stow my suitcase in a small luggage compartment.

"We'll be departing in a few minutes," the captain said as he moved through the narrow door leading to the cockpit.

"Mr. Harper is waiting for you in the passenger area," James said as he followed Captain West into the cockpit. In a moment, the cockpit door closed, and I was left alone in sheer amazement at the events of the last few minutes.

It was clear that Blake's meeting was in some distant city and that he was wealthy enough to travel in his own Lear Jet.

I moved toward the heavy curtain covering the entrance to the passenger area, past a small bath, and on the opposite side a tiny kitchenette.

I drew the curtain aside and stepped into the cabin, an extravagant finished area that contained four seats, two on either side facing one another, beyond a short sofa opposed a small bar. Blake was seated at his desk toward the rear and was already on his cell phone conducting business, even at this early hour.

He interrupted his conversation and said, "You better have a seat and buckle in."

As Captain West taxied the plane toward the runway, the sun peaked above the horizon, and I watched out the window as we came to a brief stop and then accelerated along the runway. In a moment, the jet lifted off the ground and rose higher in the early morning sunlight.

I glanced toward Blake, who was still deep in conversation on his cell, and smiled to myself, knowing I was flying off to some distant city with an extremely handsome mega-wealthy gentleman. As Daddy had said, "I'm going to enjoy this immensely."

I felt the gentle bump as the landing gear retracted and the doors closed below them. It became a smooth ride as soon as the sleek Lear Jet was trimmed for flight.

I surveyed my client; Blake was in his mid-forties, with dark hair, clean-shaven, and appeared to be very fit from what I could see. He wore a three-piece gray pin-striped suit, the coat hanging over the back of his desk chair. Beneath his form-fitting vest, he wore a crisp white long-sleeved dress shirt and a maroon and gray striped necktie. His gold cufflinks were engraved with bold letters, "BH."

From the cockpit, Captain West announced, "We've reached our cruising altitude and speed; our flight will be a little over ninety minutes. Feel free to unbuckle your seat belts and relax. The weather is clear from DC to Dalton, so we can expect a smooth flight.

I undid my belt, opened my jacket, and crossed my legs just as Blake ended his call. "I'm so sorry, Angel; If I had underlings that followed my instructions, I wouldn't have to review them over and over again."

He stood up from his desk and walked the short distance to where I was seated.

"Would you like a drink?" he asked.

"No, thank you, it's a little early for cocktails," I replied.

"You don't mind if I have an orange juice?" he replied with a grin on his lips.

Talk about inserting foot in mouth, I thought.

With his OJ in hand, he sat down facing me, extended his hand, and said, "I'm Blake Harper."

I took his hand as I replied, "My pleasure."

I could tell he was sizing me up, his eyes traveling from my eyes down to the nylon-covered ankle and sexy black leather heels. I didn't get the impression that he was visually undressing me but judging if I would pass as his administrative assistant.

"Let me tell you a little about myself," he said.

I just smiled at him.

"I started my career in real estate but quickly learned that the big money was in buying and selling properties. I've moved on to businesses, targeting struggling entities, and after acquiring them, trimming the fat, turning them profitable, and reselling for twice the purchase price. Last year I cleared one point seven million." Blake explained.

Turning that kind of profit, I've been able to purchase this plane, and now I swoop in and buy all in one day.

"What kind of business are you looking at today?" I asked.

"We're looking at Dalton Hardware, a regional supplier for local mom and pop hardware stores. Its owner, Jason O'Neil, is approaching retirement and has expressed an interest in selling. He recently lost his wife, and neither of his daughters is interested in running the family business. I estimate the net worth of Dalton Hardware at a little over one million dollars." Blake explained.

"How do I fit in, Mr. Harper?" I asked.

He smiled and answered, "You, my dear are eye candy. I've found that having a beautiful woman sitting in on the negotiations not only relaxes but gives me a slight advantage with the seller."

I just smiled again.

"And you are without a doubt the sweetest piece of eye candy I've ever had accompany me on one of these trips," Blake said.

"So, I just sit there during your meeting?" I asked.

"Oh no, you'll be introduced as my assistant and will make it seem like your taking notes with an Ipad. You won't need to make any notes; just give the appearance that you are," he explained.

So, I now had a clearer picture of what was going to occur, Harper and I would swoop in on this retiring gentleman, and using fancy negotiating tools steal his company from him. I can't say I was entirely okay with doing that to an unsuspecting business owner.

"Have you used an Ipad before?" he asked.

"Can't be too difficult," I replied.

Blake got up and grabbed one from his desk and returned, handing me the small computer. "Play with this, so you know how to start it and find the notes program," he suggested.

"I need to make a couple of calls," he said as he touched my shoulder.

"I'm good," I answered with a broad smile on my lips.

Blake was either on his phone or entering information into his laptop for most of our remaining flight time. I would have preferred that we spend some time feeling each other out regarding our more casual part of the appointment.

"We'll be touching down in about twenty minutes," Captain West announced.

I could feel the plane begin to slow, and the ground rose toward us as we approached the airport.

Blake finished his calls, stood up, and slipped his suit coat on, returning to the seat opposite mine.

"Better buckle up, Angel," he suggested.

I just smiled as I tugged the seat belt taut.

"We'll be having dinner tonight in Savannah. I have reservations at the best Italian restaurant in the city," he commented.

"Wonderful, I have something special to wear tonight," I remarked.

Blake just smiled.

A few minutes later, we heard the tires screech as they contacted the runway, and Captain West brought the Lear Jet to a slow taxi speed. After stopping on the tarmac, an SUV pulled up to where the stairs folded down from the fuselage.

"Are you ready, Angel?" Blake asked.

"I am," I responded, making sure to tuck the Ipad under one arm.

As we approached the cockpit, Captain West, who was standing in the open doorway, asked, "Will there be any changes to your itinerary, Mr. Harper?"

"I don't believe so," Blake responded.

"Good, while you're meeting, I'm going to refuel, so we'll be good to go later tonight," he replied.

Blake exited the plane first but stopped on the bottom step to offer his hand as I carefully walked down the narrow stairs. He continued holding my hand as we walked from the plane to the SUV and opened the rear passenger door. As I slid into the vehicle, I didn't bother to act very ladylike, allowing my tight skirt to ride up above my knee.

Blake noticed my exposed thigh and smiled broadly at me as his eyes took in the sensual view.

Once we settled in, he turned a little toward me, reached for my knee, and then ran his hand up beneath my skirt.

"That feels very nice," he commented when he reached the top hem of my thigh-high stocking.

"I'll be introducing you to Mr. O'Neil as my administrative assistant. Is it okay if I refer to you as Angel?" Blake asked.

I thought for a moment and then replied, "Angel doesn't sound very business-like; perhaps you could call me Margaret,"

"That'll work,' he replied.

The drive to Dalton Hardware took about fifteen minutes, and we pulled to a stop outside a warehouse-looking complex. We walked to the double wooden doors that had a sign stating, "Corporate Office."

Once inside, we were greeted by a youthful-looking girl wearing a denim skirt and a light blue tee-shirt.

"I'm Blake Harper; we have an appointment with Mr. O'Neil," Blake said to the young employee.

She stood up and rounded her desk as she replied, "I'll let him know you're here." She walked across the office and knocked lightly on his office door, and then opened it, peering inside.

Her denim skirt was way too short, and the wispy fringes dangling from the hem made me think that every day was a casual day here at Dalton Hardware.

Mr. O'Neil is in the middle of a phone call; it shouldn't be very long. You can have a seat if you'd like.

I glanced at the two wooden office chairs, which appeared to be coated with dust, and replied, "I've been sitting all morning. I'll just stand here."

Blake didn't even respond; he just looked at me and gave me a quick wink.

A minute or two later, her phone buzzed, and she lifted the receiver to her ear. "Very good, sir, I'll send them in."

Mr. O'Neil is ready to see you now." The young girl announced.

I followed Blake across the room to the door that she had peeked beyond earlier. He opened the door and stepped into Jason's private office.

It wasn't an overly large office, and I assumed he spent the majority of his business life behind the old oak desk.

"Good to see you again, Jason," Blake said as we entered his domain.

O'Neil responded in like kind, and as we approached his desk, Blake introduced me. "Jason, this is my administrative assistant, Margaret. She'll be taking notes during our meeting.

Jason, who appeared about sixty pounds overweight, sported a stubbly beard, and his dress shirt was open at the neck. He'd folded his sleeves halfway up his arms and as he, acknowledged me, smiled and said, "I take my own notes."

"Have a seat," he said as he pulled his chair closer to his desk.

Blake sat down; first, I would have preferred to brush the seat off before taking a seat next to him.

I placed the Ipad on my lap, started it, and clicked on the icon for notes.

It didn't seem that O'Neil was interested in small talk since he asked, "So I know you've researched Dalton Hardware. How about sharing the results with me.

Blake smiled at him before beginning. "I believe Dalton Hardware has a net worth of a little over a million dollars. Unfortunately, nearly half of that is tied up in inventory, and half of that is obsolete. Your payables and receivables offset each other. This facility has seen better days, and the company has a six-day turnaround between when an order is received and then shipped."