Louis POV

As the clock began to wind down, I sat in the back of my second limousine of the night. A woman in her mid-30s had hired me to accompany her to her sister's wedding. As she drank expensive champagne, she explained how her sister had always tried to 'one up' her such as winning Prom Queen, getting on the Deans list, and later, getting engaged first. She wanted to hire the most attractive person she could find to pretend to be her date for the reception. Hench, where I come in.

I mean she wasn't ugly, nor was she a plain Jane. Her sister was not unattractive by any means but truth be told if I had a choice in the matter, I'd pick the one who hired me. She even had the better personality. I won't say she is perfect by any means but defiantly someone I'd be surprised has to hire someone to be their date.

"I've used Madison Escort Service before to hire but I've never seen you in there. I would've remembered those eyes. How long have you been with them?" She scooted closer to me and tilted the champagne glass up to my lips.

"About a year." It's in the contract that we must not disclose personal information to clients. It's all I can say about the matter.

Besides, I know where this is going. Her body language is hinting that she is expecting more than just a causal night-out where she clings to her arms. I watch as her thighs become slightly open, telling me that the offer is on the table.

"I get so lonely sometimes. It's just me and Fluffy at home. She's my Persian Cat." She sighs. "Do you have plans this evening?"

"No." I yawn bored.

"Would you like to join us?" She asked scooting even closer to me. As the driver goes over a small bump, I feel drops of champagne hit my suit. Wonderful. She'll be getting a dry-cleaning bill.

"I think I really need to get home tonight."

"There's a $300 tip with your name on it. Cash." She sits her glass down and retrieves her small clutch bag. She opens a pack of cigarettes and lights it up, seductively placing it between her lips. She moves her thighs apart even more, rubbing her hands down her calf all the way to the strap of her stiletto that is buckled around the ankle.

Suddenly, the limo drivers pulls to the curb and walks around to let her out. She reaches for my hand and I hesitantly take it. She stumbles up the stairs to her luxury home and pulls me in, giggling.

She throws my coat to the ground and makes her way down to my suit. She's trying to connect our mouths together. Hesitantly, I try and kiss her back. It's hard to do when there's no chemistry between you in the least bit.

She pulls me onto her white couch sloppily, kicking off her heels. She is starting to climb on top of me now, straddling me, kissing me. I can smell her musky perfume, it's making me want to gag. I am beginning to wonder if the money is worth it as she slides her hand down to my crotch.

Just as she begins to unbutton my slacks, I see headlights peering in the mirror.

"SHIT! It's Earl, my husband! You need to leave!" She said pushing me off the couch.

"What? Husband? I thought you said you lived alone with your cat!" I said gathering my things.

"Well I lied. Here's another $100, now go out the back door please!" She begged as she began to push me into the kitchen. I try to do as she says but it's to no avail as the front door swings open.

"Earl, it's not what it looks like....I caught this young man trying to break into my house! I have $400 missing..." she let out a loud sob. "You came in just in time!"

I instantly see the malevolence flash in his eyes as he rushes toward me, grabbing me by the shirt collar. I can smell the whiskey on his breath instantly. He picks me up, threatens to choke me but as he stares at me, I think he can sense that I'm not guilty an instead picks me up and throws me outside, saying he'll beat me 'black and blue' if he ever sees me again.

As I start to walk down the sidewalk, I can hear screaming between them. It doesn't surprise me in the least. For a married woman to hire an escort, she either doesn't get much attention from her husband or she's bored. Either way, it's not my problem.

I count my earnings for the night. Between the $400 tip and the $500 booking fee, I cleared $700 considering the escort service keeps $200 out of every transaction.

I check my watch. It's 11:00 p.m. I make my way to 5th street, wondering if the guy who promised me a proper date would be there. He's the type to wait around for me, and after the night I had, I'm not particularly in the mood to entertain his save the escort mission.

He's attractive, I'll give him that. He's a real James Dean type with those dimples and soft hair. Much too posh for me.

As I make my way down to the alley, I see him standing around, playing on his phone. I can tell he's contemplating on giving up and his stride begins to walk toward campus.

"Hey, Curly! Sorry I'm late!" I call out. Why am I doing this?

"Right on time," he beams.