It is drizzling, not a full on rain, and the sky is covered in darkness, but the city is lit up by city lights. The taxi stopped in front of the Luxury hotel. A glamorous plush hotel that caters for the rich. If you are not making six figures you can't afford a room here.
I stepped out of the taxi and flipped on my umbrella to protect me from the rain, before I turned to pay the driver.
I elegantly made my way towards the entrance of the hotel on the six inch heels I had on.
The lobby was a little busy with people coming and going. Few of them casting a curious glance my way.
I was dressed in a long leather trench coat, and a black hat over my blonde hair, my face pretty made up.
The men took a second and third look at me.
I smirked inside at their drool, and the evil look thrown at me from their female companions. I was used to both, and doesn't mind any of them. It is not my fault that I look the way I do.
I entered the lift and pressed in the floor number.
As the lift started up I became nervous. It doesn't matter how long I have been doing this, I always get nervous for every job, because you will never know the kind of person you are going to get.
I have met my share of creeps in my line of work, especially when I first started, but now I get to chose my clients. Though I have never met any client in such an expensive hotel before. It is the most expensive in the city.
I am doing this as a favor to Cheryl, my boss. I have no idea who the client is, except for the name and room number. I tried to find out more from Cheryl but she refused to divulge any information, claiming that the client doesn't want his information known.
All she said was to come here, to room 212.
She better have not sent me to the room of an axe murderer. If I get killed I promise that my ghost will hunt her for the rest of her life.
The lift stopped at the right floor and opened and I walked out.
There was a long stretch of hallway with rooms on each side and a red rug on the floor.
I turned right and started looking at the room numbers as I walked until I got to the one I was looking for.
I stopped in front of it and took a breather. My heart started racing in my chest. I hesitated to knock, suddenly having a second thought.
My past experience with bad clients made me slightly cautious, but Cheryl promised that if I do this she can let me go.
When I met Cheryl at the age of eighteen, I was living in the streets with no where to call home. She had saved me from being viciously raped by a group of hoodlums, and in return I accepted to work for her.
It wasn't something I would have loved to do with my life, but it had been the only option available to me then. Now with the money I stand to make from this visit I will be able to open the bar that has been my life long dream.
For my bar, I whispered to myself and then knocked. Hopefully, I don't get killed before realizing my dream.
"Come in," someone said from the inside.
I took a deep breathe and then opened the door and walked in.
Standing few feet away, staring out the window, with their back turned towards me was an elegantly dressed woman. She was tall, and the black gown she has on fit her slender frame to perfection, mapping out her curves in all the right places.
"I am sorry, I think I have the wrong room," I apologized and turned to leave.
"No, you don't."
Her voice was sexy, soft, and commanding.
I halted in my heels, and then turned slowly like I was being remotely controlled to face her. I got my breathe knocked out of my lungs when I caught sight of her face.
Let say that the voice matched the face.
She was hot, and stunning, and all I could do was gawk like a fool at her. I was blown away.
"Is there something on my face?"
I couldn't tell if she was mocking me, or genuinely asking, because her voice was flat, with no emotions in them.
And speaking of lack of emotions, the same can be said of her eyes. They were gorgeous blues, but icy as snow. I could feel the chill as they peered at me.
Who is this woman?
Not my business. I don't entertain female clients, something Cheryl knows quite well, so why the fuck did she ask me here.
"I am sorry, but I think there has been a mistake," I said politely and turned once again to leave. The woman was making me nervous for no reason and I can't wait to get the hell out of here.
"You are one of Cheryl's whores, right, and seeing that you are here, her best. Because that is what I asked for. So where is the mistake?"
Again her voice was a matter of fact.
I didn't know whether to pick offense or applaud her bluntness. And all these she said with no shift in her impassive expression.
The woman reminded me of a stunning statue.
If she was going to make this difficult, well I can be stubborn too.
I ran my eyes from her head to her toe, taking my time as I made the journey, making it obvious that I was checking her out, and then I took the journey back and stopped at her intense icy blues. "Why?"
She stared at me as if she was waiting for something from me, and when I said nothing, she said. "Why what?"
There was a little bit of impatience in her voice that was amusing. I finally cracked that stern amour.
I looked up and down at her again before speaking. "You are one of the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen, I am sure you are not lacking people to please you, so why a hooker?"
"And you think you can please me?" One perfectly carved brow arched up mockingly at me.
"Was that a challenge?" I arched a brow back at her.
An evil glint appeared in her eyes that made me dreadful. I should not have engaged her. Something about her bearing makes me feel like she is one woman you don't want to mess with.
She has this dangerous mysterious aura that every fibre in me is warning me to make a run for the door.
Wished I had listened to that voice.
She moved her tall frame to the seat in the room and sat down. She relaxed back against the seat, crossed her leg at the knees like a queen on her throne, and then looked towards me.
"Show me what you have got."