Lucy, a young single mother and professional escort featured in the vignette "Three Hours". To recap, she booked a BDSM job with an anonymous wealthy woman, but remembered nothing of the scene at all. The next day, instead of the agreed $300, she was given $300k. This is the story of what happened next xxx
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Some soul searching had occurred since the unexpected windfall landed in Lucy Shaw's bank account. That weird job had deeply unnerved her. Waking up like that, helpless, losing all memory of what happened really drove home her own vulnerability. This wasn't how she would have chosen to earn her living.
A niggling part of her was desperate for answers, but the greater part was afraid to ask. Whatever indignities her body had been subject to, it didn't matter. This miracle, her ludicrous miracle might be fragile as a bubble of soap.
Stella laid it out bluntly, "What kind of person drops three hundred grand on a stranger, then disappears from the face of the earth? The fucking crazy, dangerous kind."
Lucy rationalised it, compartmentalised it, and faked a lottery win to anyone who asked. She never told a soul about that three hour missing piece of her life, even Stella. She was too grateful for the life she had left.
Eli was coming up to nine months when he started coasting around the furniture, curious, relentless. As he got older he'd ask what mommy did for a living, his teachers would ask. At the ripe old age of twenty-three she enrolled in the local community college to study hair and beauty.
She had a talent for it, eager to learn, keen to make the most of it. By the time Eli started school she was a permanent stylist at Cher Pierre. Settled at work, confident she was ready for her forever home, she used the last $13k of the enormous tip to put down a deposit on a two bed apartment.
Eli was her world. The time they spent together, the growing faith that yes, everything was going to be okay really did feel like winning the lottery.
Sometimes she missed the kink. But as Stella pointed out, a sensible career and an exciting lovelife weren't incompatible. After all, Stella had everything. Her marriage was solid yet spicy, her business sense was second to none, she planned to retire at forty, Lucy didn't doubt it for a second.
Free from Mack's controlling behaviour, free from the often clinical demands of sex work, she explored her desires with different people. Some relationships lasted for a couple of months, but jealousy was an issue. She wasn't looking for the one, not by a long shot, but the whole world seemed determined to change her mind.
Wasn't that what she really needed though? Stability, security, for Eli if not for herself?
Friends that knew about Eli's father did their best to remind her that most men aren't into drug dealing or armed robbery, and that the signs were always there with Mack. That wasn't the point.
"You see a red flag, I see an invitation," she lamented. It was half funny half fucked up. She still felt sorry for Mack. He wasn't the worst of her exes.
"So you'll find someone to trust," they said. "You'll know him when you see him." That didn't seem probable given her track record, so she stopped looking. Stuff still happened now and then, a few friends with benefits. Two by two they paired off and she was happy for them. Sort of.
Mack may have been an ego driven nightmare boyfriend, but his parents were lovely people. Once they realised Lucy had turned her life around, they became very supportive. They put a hundred dollars a month into their grandson's college fund, sent gifts on behalf of themselves and Mack. They understood that Eli needed some contact with his father, at the same time they could see it was impossible for Lucy to be the facilitator. They took him up to visit their son on holidays and birthdays. A couple of times a year the stars aligned and the grandparents would whisk him away for a holiday too.
Work was a satisfying substitute for a relationship. By the time she was thirty-five she ran thirty stylists across two different salons and a hotel spa. She managed their books and finances, sometimes their drama. Restraining orders, divorce dramas, custody battles, these were the last nails in the coffin of her own love life.
Over the years, she built up contacts with different wedding planners. It was a lucrative field, and tempted her sometimes as a career change, but business aside she was an artist through and through. It was kind of magic bringing women out of their shells, showing them just how beautiful they were.
There was a big job on the books the last weekend in April. The bride, twelve bride's maids plus flower girls for a wedding plus breakfast, plus evening reception. It was at a beautiful old colonial hotel, a couple of hours drive from Chelsea. Lucy took her two best girls and they had their own suite of rooms. This was the sort of job Lucy enjoyed, the pressures were immense, the rewards priceless.
Trouble was, this wedding party was all high maintenance. They knew exactly how beautiful they were already, and they were used to ordering their own staff around. It was all Lucy could do to keep her girls from flouncing off home half way through the first sitting. They made light of it once the last piece of work sashayed downstairs to the main hall.
Lucy wondered how many surgeries, fillers and implants they'd had between them. That was one thing that never appealed to her, gravity always won. She was tempted to keep a picture of the maid of honour's face just to remind herself of that fact.
The plan had been to enjoy the gym and spa between sittings but Lucy was exhausted. Instead she put up her feet and called Eli. He answered immediately and Lucy tutted, "Did you already have your phone in your hand?"
She loved his laugh. "Mom! I was texting."
"Ok baby, I know." She gave a big old stretch and kicked off her shoes. "Just make sure you get the most of this beautiful sunshine, how was the waterpark?"
"Amazing, check out grandma on the slide." A bell popped up on the screen and Lucy chuckled at the video message. Grace was in pretty good shape for a woman of sixty.
"Tell her to give you a squeeze from me baby. I miss you already."
"Aw, it's only a couple of days. I miss my playstation."
"Don't. I bet you still see it running whenever you close your eyes. Did you eat breakfast?"
"Breakfast and breakfast. And key lime pie. Gotta go mom, grandpa's calling me, love you!"
"Aw baby, I..." but he'd gone. Thirteen. She shivered then. Tried not to dwell on her own formative years. Eli was still her baby, so full of honest humor and love. There was a hot ball of anger deep inside Lucy that she rarely acknowledged, sometimes it needed a few minutes to simmer back down. "I need some air," she said.
Maisie, the younger girl, glanced up from her phone. "Sure," she said. "Ya hungry?"
But Lucy had already stepped out onto the balcony. The smell of sap rising, hot sunshine on black soil, a brisk westerly wind carrying the sound of geese on the wing. City woman through and through, this was still heaven.
The second sitting right before the evening reception was worse. Skinny rich girls that don't eat get crabby in the afternoon, so do bored preschoolers in formal wear. There were tears of frustration behind the scenes, but Lucy was proud of her stylists, they got the job done.
There was a big pagoda outside with fake flowers and fairy lights, she sent her girls down there for photography touch ups. Lucy watched the sun go down from that big old balcony with a little niggle of guilt. She grabbed a quick shower and touched up her own hair and face before heading down to join them.
Her phone was alive with notifications but she tucked it away. All these guests were sharing videos and pictures, she'd upload a couple of shots for the salon when she got round to it. Once the reception started and alcohol started flowing, Lucy began to relax. Job done for now. She picked up a cocktail pitcher and a tray of sandwiches from the bar and headed out to find her girls. They'd picked a nice spot near one of the outdoor heaters and were checking out bridezilla videos. She had to laugh.
Maisie was so resentful of being ordered around by colleagues or clients, today had been hard on her. Lucy couldn't relate to it, personally. Far better when people were honest about what they needed. Her attention wandered from the videos they'd all seen before, up to the mezzanine above the covered pool that was doubling as an outdoor disco. A few middle aged men were failing to impress.
"You're missing some spectacular dad dancing Maisie," she said with a smirk.
"Come on, this can't be for real."
