This is a novella length romance story. There will be plenty of sex, but it won't appear in every chapter.
(warning: contains elements of prostitution)
Copyright 2019
"Fuck. This is going nowhere." I thought in frustration.
I had just politely exited the fourth potential assistant I'd interviewed that morning. Somehow each one seemed somehow worse than the previous. I was glad I'd decided to contain interviews to the morning and keep one client that afternoon. It wouldn't feel like a completely wasted day. I heard the buzzer at the door and sighed audibly to myself.
"At least it's the last one. Maybe I'm just being too picky." I thought.
I knew I wasn't. Working as the assistant to a consort was an unusual job. An individual had to be diplomatic and discrete, autonomous, and ok with everything from scheduling appointments and greeting clients to changing cum soaked sheets. It wasn't for everyone. Most people that applied thought it was a cake receptionist gig where they could simply answer a couple calls and nap. They never considered they'd have to be involved in any of the messy stuff. Any candidates that didn't feel that way tended to be curious about the business and ultimately tried to use the experience to see if they were interested in going through guild consort training themselves.
Being a consort isn't what most people think these days. It's been a legal and respectable profession since after the rebuilding. After the war, there was so much poverty and so many people had been lost that many found themselves desperately alone and prostitution ran rampant. Eventually, largely due to the spread of illness, the new governments intervened, and it became a proper profession for those that went through rigorous training. Guild training doesn't just consist of an education in sexual practices and safety precautions, but in diplomacy, psychology, finance, and communication. Consorts had become something that people hire for simple sexual interaction, or to serve as companions at all manner of events they didn't wish to attend alone, including high level diplomatic functions. On a personal level, most regular people still judge those of us that choose the profession, but the job itself is a respectable one.
I'm good at what I do, and my practice is solid. I've been doing this nearly twenty years now, and even though I'm pushing 40, thanks to a combination eating well and working out regularly, I can easily pass for much younger. I'm 6'4, not as muscular as I was in my 20's perhaps, but still large and well built. My skin is pale, and my eyes are a light green that normally hovers around grey, but can flash to emerald when I'm emotionally charged. I keep my light brown hair shoulder length. It's typically pulled back in a bun as it can get in the way when I'm working, but on occasion clients request it down, and I've always enjoyed keeping it on the longer side. I have enough stamina to regularly see 3-4 clients a day, 5 days a week without the assistance of any medications. My clientele largely consists of regulars at this point, although they tend to make enough new client referrals to keep things interesting. This profession has allowed me to afford a small house with a yard outside the city, and this small business apartment is in a nice part of town.
I forced on my professional first meeting smile as I answered the door. The man on the other side surprised me. He was perhaps an inch taller than me with light tan skin. The type of skin that is perpetually that color because his genetics were perfect rather than because he'd recently been out in the sun. He was well dressed in tighter slacks and a cashmere long sleeve t shirt that clung to his large shoulders and fell like water over the rise of a well-formed chest. He seemed to carry perhaps a bit more body fat than I, but not much, and his physique looked like it had been earned by physical labor of some sort rather than in the gym. His deep brown hair was cut short, yet just long enough to fall slightly down over his forehead. His eyes pulled me in instantly. They were a color I'd never seen before. A deep, warm, pale brown, almost the color of amber or pools of dark honey.
"Fuck." I thought to myself, "If I hire this guy, clients are going to be disappointed when they have to sleep with me instead of him."
I offered my hand. "Good morning. You're Jesse?"
He smiled broadly in return. "Yes sir, that's me."
I stepped back from the door and gestured to the seating area in the middle of a good-sized room furnished in clean whites and greys. I'd tried to make it both comfortable and professional. There was a seating area with a sofa and a couple of wingbacks around a coffee table stocked with glass water bottles and a few books on various subjects. Past the seating area was a large dark grey desk with a couple of computer screens. On the right side of the room were French doors that led to my work spaces, and to the left, French doors that lead to a small kitchen.
Jesse stepped past me and took a seat in one of the wingbacks, assuming I'd take the other and face him.
"Thank you so much for the opportunity to interview," He started before I even sat. "I know I don't have experience in this sort of thing..." He trailed off.
I smiled and sat on the edge of the couch closest to him. It kept us both at a slight angle vs. facing one another straight on, but I liked to see how people responded when I chose an unexpected seat that was closer than they'd anticipated. He didn't seem phased and simply turned slightly and smiled nervously at me again as I began.
"You may not have experience as an assistant, but you're a med student, something I certainly never thought I'd see on an application to work for me. I was curious about you I suppose. Additionally, that means you're likely smart, hardworking, and dedicated. I've found it's far easier for someone with good personality traits to adapt to a new job, than someone familiar with a job to change their personality."
He grinned broadly again and nodded as I continued. "So, that said, tell me a bit more about yourself. Why you've applied, and why you think you'd be a good fit."
He grew instantly professional. "I come from a family of farmers. I enjoy farming well enough, but I've always felt like I had more to offer and I've been interested in medicine since I was a kid. My family has saved for years to put me through med school, and I don't have the heart to tell them even with all they've given me I can't quite afford things like..well...food..." he laughed a bit in nervous embarrassment.
"So I need a job. Med school is demanding though, and I need something part time that doesn't require me to spend a lot of brain power learning a whole new skill set. I know I have no experience in this sort of thing, but I'm a quick learner. I can use computer systems, I'm good with people, and I don't mind hard work." he glanced around a bit. "I mean if there's like cleaning or other things like that..." He trailed off and laughed again. "I'm not really sure what the job entails to be honest."
I was rather stunned, he literally just listed exactly what I was looking for. He seemed to be everything I could want in an assistant and he was gorgeous on top of it. I smiled politely.
"I hate to say this so directly after a whole 5 minutes, but you couldn't have phrased that any better. I've sent 4 other people packing without giving them a serious thought already today, and I couldn't be happier that you seem like such a good fit."
