The Escort

Chapter Twenty

JOHN AND I have almost kissed, if not for his phone ringing. My mind always wanders back to how close his face was, only to leave me flustered. I cannot forget his kiss on my forehead. Maybe he’s giving it because he cares about me, and it does not mean anything. I wish I can make my thoughts about him disappear because he has taken up a lot of space in my head.

            Janet wants to bring me along for shopping for her baby clothes. She has been better a few weeks after she has revealed to me her pregnancy, and she seems excited to become a mother. It’s quite surprising how mature she has become belatedly, but I guess it is her maternal instincts kicking in or something. I cannot imagine myself becoming an aunt, let alone a mother to a child.

            I wait for her to finish fitting some of the clothes she grabbed from the pregnant ladies’ section of the clothing store. She discreetly grabs one and is on alert if someone is surveilling us. Ma and pa have been radio silent for almost a month, and I do get worried if something is up with them. I have made sure Janet is not being followed but hiring her a personal bodyguard. She does not know it. Her bodyguard has not yet found anyone who may be following us.

            Janet emerges out of the fitting room, her baby bump growing a bit bigger. She wears a pastel pink duster, with cute pockets sewn at her breastplates. She looks cute on it, but because of her height it falls a bit higher from her knees, like a short dress shirt.

            “What do you think?” she giggles, twirling herself around. I give her a thumbs up and she goes back inside the dressing room to fit some of the clothes. I take a seat on one of the chairs inside, checking my phone for any messages.

            Robert has sent me a message and I smile, realising that I actually miss this guy. He must have been busy with his business trips. I open the message he has sent me.

            Robert Go: hello matilda wanna hang out tonight at my place?

            Smiling, I text him a reply that I will be there. He sends me the coordinates of his place. I wonder what he has up on his sleeve. His presence gives me quite a relaxation whenever I am stressed at work. I like how he never brings up about work, and I also like how the both of us can relate in a lot of things. I feel like I’ve met my friend soulmate.

             Sometimes, I just wish it will be the same with John. We have already fought twice, and they usually end up so terrible. It makes me feel terrible when we fight, over things I don’t even know are a trigger for him in the first place. It’s like walking on eggshells with him. I wonder if he does the same with me. Yet, I still like him. He gives me this feeling of being alive, after so long of being caged in my company for eight years, to be imprisoned in a perpetual responsibility passed on to you by your parents. However, I don’t know him enough to know what ticks him off. He’s still an enigma to me.

            After five hours of shopping with Janet, my feet are killing me. We have arrived home and I immediately soak in the bath. The warm water calms my nerves that it puts me to sleep. When I wake up, I put on a silk robe and step out of the bath. I wear a plain yellow shirt and some khaki shorts, and when I go out of my room to put on some shoes, Robert is in the living room, casually chatting with Janet. I almost ask her to go to her room, but she hides her figure with a huge pillow.

            “Robert,” I call his name and he turns his head to where my voice is.

            “Matilda,” he calls back, a smile glinting his features. “You look fresh.”

            I chuckle. “Well, it would be a shame if I smell like stale food right?” I walk to one of the couches and plunge my bum on it. “What are you guys up to?” I ask.

            “Robert is just talking about his trip in Sweden,” Janet answers. She stretches her arms and she yawns, rubbing her eyes. “I think I’m going to hit the hay. Wear protection, you two.”

            I shoot her a murderous glare and say, “We’re not going to do anything s****l, I promise you.” It makes Robert laugh out loud.

            “You’re so funny Matilda. You don’t know how much of an entertainment you are,” he says and I throw a pillow at him playfully.

WE ARRIVE AT Robert’s bachelor pad. He lives in a condominium, his room at the top floor. His condo is lilted with blue and grey colours, which is befitting for a single man. He gives me a tour of his place. He has a guest room; in case someone wants to crash for the night. His master’s bedroom is huge, a king-sized bed at the centre edge of his room. Inside his bedroom, he has a personal computer, and a large flat-screen television. The huge glass walls provide a beautiful view of the city lights and the night sky.

            He leads me to the kitchen where he has several different baking tools, cooking pans, spatulas, knives, and other kitchen utensils. He lets me sit on one of the wooden stools, and he tells me to watch what he’s about to do.

            He has already prepared the ingredients and it seems like he’s going to bake something. He mixes the dry ingredients—cake flour, sugar, salt, baking soda, etc.—in an aluminium bowl, and in an another bowl, he mixes the wet ingredients—eggs, oil, milk, water, vanilla, etc. His arms bulge whenever he mixes the ingredients, which is quite a view to look at. I prop my elbows on the table and quietly look at him mix the ingredients.

            After he has finished making the batter he puts them on a baking pan and places them inside a preheated oven. While he waits for them to bake, he starts making his frosting. He is so focused on what he’s doing, which is an admirable trait from him. I love how our silence is too comfortable. I don’t need to say anything to him, just vibes.

            After his cake batter has baked, he puts them carefully on the plates and lets them cool for a period of time. It seems like he’s going to make a chocolate cake. I wonder what the occasion is.

            “Are you going to make chocolate cake?” I ask him.

            “Yep,” he replies briefly. “This is one of my grandma’s secret recipes. Well, actually not. I’m just making things up so that there will be more to what I’m doing,” he jests which makes me roll my eyes.

            “But is there an actual backstory though?”

            “No, just want to bake a cake for the both of us to eat,” he replies. After the cake has cooled off he covers it with chocolate frosting on the outside. His cake looks delicious although it’s simple. He puts some strawberries on top which are my favourite. I wonder how many strawberries are stocked inside his fridge.

            He places his cake in a blast chiller so that it will be cold when we eat it. While waiting, he sits down beside me, the silence encompassing between us.

            “I met a girl in Sweden,” he says, breaking the pregnant silence. “And I actually brought her here so that she can stay here for a vacation.”

            “Do you like her?” I ask, my heart sinking to my stomach. I wonder why I feel that way. I should be happy he is dating someone, and maybe he can convince our parents to call off our engagement.

            “I’m still figuring it out.” He takes my hand and he caresses the back of my hand with his thumb. “I really don’t want to marry you Matilda. I know you have a boyfriend, and I think if the both of us are in relationships we can convince our parents that we are better off without each other.” His face looks rueful.

            “Is that why you asked me to come here?” My voice is about to break, for some reason. I should be happy. I should be rejoicing that Robert is finding a way for the both of us not to be legally bounded by the law.

            “No, of course not. I just want to let you know that we can finally get a way out of this sticky situation.” He smiles tenderly. “We can still be good friends you know? You’re really great and I want to still contact you. You should know how amazing you are, and I do think your company will survive without me. You are great at what you do.”

            “Thanks,” I say sadly. “But still, your time will be taken up a lot by that Swedish girl. I can be very selfish,” I joke.

            He grins, “Of course, you can have all of me Matilda. But on a serious note, you can invite your boyfriend for a double date with us. It will be fun.”

            “I’ve been in one, a week ago. John, my boyfriend, was invited by his ex. It was disastrous.”

            “Yikes. Did he and his ex have a bad history?”

            “Apparently so,” I huff. John takes the cake from the blast chiller and slices it evenly. He looks so artistic when he does that. His eyes are full of passion and I wonder if he likes this better than running a corporation. He puts a slice on a white ceramic plate, and one on another. He takes two silver forks and he gives a slice of cake to me. He also takes a box of orange juice from his fridge, and pours one for me in a glass.

            “I don’t know all the details,” I say in between bites of his delicious chocolate cake, “but I kinda feel like he isn’t over his ex-girlfriend yet.”

            “That’s a red flag,” he grimaces. “It will be bad if your boyfriend is still hung up over his ex. I’ve been there and I swear, it is up to no good being with someone who still wants their ex back.”

            “I don’t know if he still wants her. By the way, this cake is so good. I would’ve believed you that this is your grandma’s secret recipe, passed on to generations.” I make a dramatic gesture with my hands in the air. He laughs. “Can I tell you something?” I ask and the atmosphere shifts from light to solemn. Robert sobers up. He nods in response.

            “Do you promise not to tell anyone?” He raises his palm and crosses it with his index finger of his other hand. I take a deep breath and let out the noisiest exhale. I want to tell Robert the truth. I don’t know what compelled me to do this, but I feel like I can trust him with this. I want to tell him the truth about John’s relationship with me.

            “John is not my boyfriend. I only hired him so that my parents would back off from me with the arranged marriage that I only knew from my grandma before my parents decided to tell me. It is hella embarrassing but I had to do it. Truth is, I’ve never been in love. I’ve never been in a relationship and it is quite impossible to do so. I don’t think I even have time to be in one,” I blabber, breathless. Robert’s eyes widen, and his expressions grow softer for me.

            “It’s okay,” he assures. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. You had to do what you thought was right for you. You’ve done a lot for your family and I think it’s time for you to prioritise yourself, Matilda.” He encloses me in a hug, and tears spill from my face. I don’t expect for Robert to give me such a kind response towards my confession, but it feels like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

            “I’m so sorry that I had to do it,” I apologise.

            “It’s alright. I would’ve done the same if I were in your shoes.”

            “But what about our double date?” He laughs and shakes his head, his face amused with what I’ve said.

            “It will still push through if you want. You might be having feelings for him?”

            “Honestly, I don’t know.” It’s the truth. I’m not sure if I really like John. I don’t know if I’m going to like someone who I keep having arguments with. But, if I tell him how I feel for him, will it change things between us? I don’t know. What if we’re already hopeless since the beginning?

            “It’s alright. You don’t have to rush things. You have all the time in the world, and I’m sure John is not going anywhere.” I wish what Robert says is true. He is still hung-up over Alice, which I highly dislike, and I don’t know if he is still attracted to Janet. With our almost kiss a week ago, his actions match his words. I’m scared if he feels the same way, quite truthfully, because he may put me in a pedestal and if I cannot live up to his expectations, he will be highly disappointed.

            I’m just a woman. Nothing is special about me.

ROBERT AND I have played video games with his Switch console, and I think I will purchase one at home. It’s fun playing games with him although I keep losing. I have never played any kind of game, whether it be games played in childhood, or video games. I may have beaten him once of the thirty games we played, and whenever someone loses, the winner dares the loser to do what the winner wants the loser to do.

            They are all innocent, even though the both of us are already pushing thirties. It is Robert and I’s thirty-first game with Mario Kart, and I do hope this time, I can beat him. When the race is finished I actually have won, and Robert rolls his eyes playfully. He takes out the stock liquor inside his cabinets and he takes a shot of vodka. If we have done this before this round I would have probably passed out drunk.

            We play a few more rounds and I’m getting the hang of this video game. I fairly win with Robert, though I may have taken around eight shots of tequila. I’m starting to get dizzy, which is absolutely crazy because I need to focus if I want to win the race. Robert feels slightly lightheaded as well and we stop the game, our backs lying on Robert’s comfy king-sized bed.

            There are glow-in-the-dark stars in the ceiling, which reminds me of my childhood. I’ve always wanted a ceiling to have those kinds of stars, so that I will feel like I’m living in a galaxy. I even have dreamt of becoming an astronaut as I grow older, and work at NASA to explore the wonders in space. But my parents have something different in store for me.

            “Thanks for this,” I tell Robert. “Can I crash here for tonight?”

            “Of course, milady,” Robert says. He’s had too many tequilas, his brain partaking a different dimension. I sloppily walk to the bedroom door, but Robert’s hand clasp around my wrist, strongly I may add. “Please stay with me,” he requests drunkenly. Does he know what he’s actually doing or saying? It’s quite hilarious to see him in this state.

            I do not digress. I lie beside him and I stare at the ceiling, the feeling of wooziness dozing off away from me. My mind grows sombre as the minute passes. Robert has already passed out, soft snores coming out from his mouth.

            I do not notice Robert is still holding my wrist. His grip isn’t too strong, nor is it too weak. His hand is warm against the cold air-condition of his bedroom. I watch him sleep, and he starts murmuring, like he is the protagonist of the story his mind has created.

            “I love you,” he whispers, but my heart skips a beat at the words. I know he is passed out, drunk, and that he is off to his dreamland. But he mentions a name that isn’t mine after he says those three words. I smile, and I close my eyes, willing myself to sleep.