Upon their arrival in New York, Jessica met with Jane's attorneys. The meeting went surprisingly well; apparently Jane had been very persuasive in convincing them that this was what she really wanted. The law firm also handled investments, and had been doing a very good job, so Jessica agreed to let them continue to manage most of the money. She learned that Jane had asked the firm to sell off her house and all her possessions -- she had no desire to revisit her old life -- and that the proceeds would be added to the account.
Jessica was a little taken aback to discover just how much money there was. She knew that Jane was well-off, but when she saw the actual numbers in front of her, she almost started choking. She had grown up poor, and although she was relatively comfortable now, this was on a different scale. She sensed immediately that life was going to change; the only question was how.
Afterward she sat in the lobby for a few minutes with Jane and Marie, excited, but also a little confused. Where to go from here? Well, they were going to need a place to stay that night. Jessica had always wanted to stay at the Four Seasons, so she got out her phone and booked them a suite there. The nightly rate was obscene, but she could afford it now, and was in the mood to splurge.
Now they would need a way to get there, so she called a limo service and ordered a black stretch. Barely 10 minutes passed before the long, sleek vehicle pulled up in front of the office. The driver's door opened and a black-uniformed figure emerged and came inside.
The driver looked at them and asked, "Jessica Braden?" The voice was high for a man and low for a woman, and the uniform, hat, and sunglasses made it hard to tell much about who was underneath.
"That's right," answered Jessica, standing.
"Hi, I'm Rocky, and I'll be your driver today."
"A pleasure," said Jessica, scrutinizing Rocky and coming tentatively to the conclusion that this was a female. Rocky was probably short for "Raquel" or something like that.
Rocky helped them with their minimal luggage and showed them where the bar was located in the back of the limo. Champagne seemed to be in order, so Jessica had Marie pour them each a glass, and they drank a toast as the limo made its way through the city.
When they arrived at the hotel Rocky opened the door for them. The sunglasses were gone, and now she looked much more like a woman; her eyes were a lovely green, gleaming with a sharp but not entirely trustworthy intelligence. Before they parted Rocky handed Jessica her card. "Feel free to give me a call," she said. "Anything you want in this city, I can probably help you find it." She winked. "Anything at all."
* * *
After checking in Jessica, Marie, and Jane sat looking out over the city. They had opened a bottle of Champagne and ordered a luxurious dinner from room service. Jessica felt well-indulged and happy but there was a yearning, too, for something more.
She looked over at Jane, whose face was bathed in the orange glow of sunset. Jane looked calmer and more beautiful than Jessica had ever seen her. Her burdens had been lifted, Jessica realized; she was free now to live in the moment.
"Jane," said Jessica.
"Hmmm?"
"I was thinking, maybe you'd like to go back to your real name now. It would be OK with me."
Jane shook her head vigorously. "No. I want to be who I am with you, not who I was."
Jessica nodded. She looked over at Marie, who was stretched out on the couch painting her toenails. "Marie, what would you like to do tonight?"
Marie shrugged. "This is nice."
Jessica refilled her glass and started pacing around the suite. The problem with being able to do anything you want, she reflected, is figuring out what you want to do. She idly turned on the TV and started flipping channels. After a football game, an infomercial, and a reality show, she came across the face of Julia Roberts -- never a favorite of hers, but it was enough to stop her channel-surfing for a few seconds.
The movie, she soon realized, was Pretty Woman, and suddenly a thought struck her. She had never once in her life paid for sex. She'd never needed to, and she didn't need to now either; but the idea was immediately exciting. Now where did one find a prostitute? She knew there were certain neighborhoods, but where were they? Or if you wanted a call girl, who did you call?