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Echo the Escort: ‘The Opportunity’ (Pt. 5)

*Contains Graphic Sex Scenes & Language*

9/29/2018

Many people forget about my mantra, “Escorting is 60% sex and 40% emotional support.” What does that mean? It means that escorting isn’t just us having sex with strangers; it’s about us being a companion for hire. Some clients hire us to be their boyfriend for a day, or for a weekend, and some are just going through some difficult shit and want someone to listen to their problems.

That is why many Escorts don’t last very long in this industry. You have to be able to turn off the sex switch and turn on your emotional switch. You have to be the support the clients need. It’s not an easy job at all but someone has to do it. And I’m proud to be that person because men are mysterious beings who are too prideful to show their vulnerable side because of fear they would be ridiculed for it or emasculated.

However, I enjoy a man who can cry one second, then fuck like an animal the next second. It was soothing and refreshing, and as someone who almost lost someone to suicide, everyone needs someone to talk to.

Today’s client was Dave Amell. He’s a fancy architect from NYC who is openly Gay and has donated more than $65 million to various LGBTQ+ youth centers and homeless shelters.

This scheduling came as a surprise to me since it was only two days ago that Noah called me to tell me he wasn’t scheduling us for an entire week. But knowing Dave he probably threw a lot of cash on the table and Noah caved in.

The email said Dave required me to wear formal attire and formal in my mind consisted of a suit and tie as if I was going to prom. I hate suit and ties because they make me feel as if someone is smothering me or prepping me for my funeral.

Therefore, I decided to buy a designer v-neck black shirt, with designer black slacks—it was a perfect fit considering I had to get a waist size 40 thanks to my big ass—but I knew the shape of it would get me free drinks at the local Gay club, for sure!

I also bought a black casual blazer that had some white and pink embroidery on it. I think it was supposed to be a rose but I honestly had no idea what the hell it was. It was also a designer jacket and although everything I bought was designer brand, the total amount I spent on it all was just $10.

I’m a huge thrift shopper… is that even a thing? Thrift Shopper… eh, we will make it one now.

In my mind, I looked very formal.

I looked as if I was going to a high-class award show.

The email stated that Dave wanted me to meet him at the lobby of the Mansion Hotel. It was a very expensive and prestigious hotel in San New City. Once I heard "hotel," I knew I had to clean myself everywhere. Sometimes a decent conversation could lead to something more.

I looked at my cellphone as I stood motionless in the cab. It was only 6 PM and there was traffic outside of the hotel.

Leading from the curb of the street down to the inside lobby of the hotel was a red carpet where a few photographers stood taking pictures of couples walking in expensive dresses as if this was an award show.

“What the hell is going on here?” I asked not entirely sure what to expect from the event.

“Oh that’s the San New Royal University’s twentieth reunion. Everyone who’s anyone is coming here to celebrate. Are you going as well?” the cab driver asked.

“I-I don’t think so,” I replied back.

I hope not. The last thing I need is to attend a party I had no idea I was invited to.

Usually if a client hires an Escort to… well, escort him to an event as his date, they tell us in advance so we can bring some business cards to network as well.

One of the Top Escorts named Maxwell escorted a Congressman to the Republican National Convention last year and he passed out more than forty business cards. Lucky bastard.

I told the cab driver, “I’ll get off here. I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

The fare came out to $12 and since we don’t use credit cards when taking cab services, we must have cash on us. Unfortunately, I had a $100 bill because I forgot to change it earlier.

I gave the bill to Mauricio—my driver for the night—and he nervously looked at it as if it was a pregnancy test I just peed on that showed a positive result.

“Keep the change,” I replied and his eyes widened.

Mauricio did nothing but make me feel comfortable when he picked me up at my house.

He was jamming out to some rap album by a rapper who enjoyed saying the slur “faggot” a little too freely in a bunch of his songs. I originally thought the rapper was an openly Gay rapper because for some stupid reason a lot of Gay men are trying to take back the slur and use it as a compliment… It’s not and it will never be!

Mauricio told me the rapper known simply as "Lil Gold $tackz" isn’t Gay but just raps about the homosexual community—in translation, "He’s a closeted rapper that talks about the Gay community because he’s getting head from a Gay guy on the side."

Any man that spends his career or life bashing Gay men just for “fun” is compensating for repressed homosexual feelings that he doesn’t want anyone else to know. I can name three rappers with hit songs currently playing on the radio that hires Tops frequently.

But I won’t.

Outing people is disgusting, vile, and inhumane and the last time I checked, I’m not Perez Hilton.

Mauricio apologized and quickly changed the station. He went on to talk about how he doesn’t view Homosexuals in a negative light because he has a best friend who is Gay and it’s never been an issue for him.

Hearing about a friendship between Heterosexual and Homosexual men warmed my heart because the media always seems to portray Gays as sex crazed individuals that yearn to turn straight men Gay, as if they were vampires or zombies.

“Th-thank you so much! If you need me to pick you up here’s my business card.” He quickly handed me his business card and I smiled at him. It would be good to have a personal driver, but that was for another day. Right now, I had to find Dave amongst the sea of Hollywood Royalty wannabes.

I placed his card in the right pocket of my pants and thanked him as I opened the door, exited the car, and closed the door behind me.

The cold winter wind slapped me as if it wanted me to call it “Zaddy.” I forgot that tonight it was supposed to be less than 30 degrees.

I walked over to the side of the hotel to find a few people standing still smoking on their cigarettes. They clearly weren’t invited to the reunion as they were bad mouthing every guest that walked down the red carpet.

“I see you’re just as surprised as I am,” a voice said from behind me.

I turned around to find a middle-aged man with ginger colored hair, beard, and eyebrows dressed in a tight blue and white plaid suit standing before me.

“I’m sorry?” I asked trying not to sound too rude.

He smiled. “You’re Echo, correct?”

I nodded, realizing he was Dave Amell. “Yes, I am. Are we attending the reunion? If so, I don’t think I came dressed up for that.”

He smiled, shaking his head. “Is that what that is? Sorry, I’m not from around here so I had no idea there was an event taking place.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ve lived here for ten years and I didn’t even know who these people are.”

“Well it’s a good thing I booked us a private booth at the Meringue Marlot.”

I felt my heart skip a beat. “Are you serious? That restaurant doesn’t open for two more months.”

He chuckled leaning in. “When you own the restaurant, it opens whenever you want it to open.”

Hold the fucking phone! Did I hear him correctly? He’s the owner of the top restaurant in NYC that is now here in San New City. I should have derived a conclusion based off that fact alone.

Dave smiled and he pointed to a red sports car that was parked across the street from the hotel and away from all the commotion. “Let’s get going. I hope you have an appetite for delicious Italian food.”

I didn’t care what food it was as long as I get to eat. Well, no, scratch that. I do care about what food I eat because I’m highly allergic to shellfish. I can eat any and everything except shellfish.

So far, Dave didn’t seem like a crazy fellah, but taking me to a restaurant, he owned which isn’t open publicly? Something did not seem right about that. For some reason I had a feeling, this night was going to be one I would remember forever.

***

Forty Minutes Later (6:40 PM):

When Dave said the restaurant was going to be just for ourselves, he wasn’t kidding. The renovation of the restaurant was still underway, so he sat us both on the upper deck patio, which showed off an amazing view of the Cherstaine River. Not only was it quiet and the ambience was relaxing but we just had some delicious Italian food cooked by world-renowned chef Emilio Vagetti.

I had an order of spaghetti with meatballs, garlic bread, and stuffed shells. The mozzarella cheese on the stuff shells was moist, creamy, and delicious!

The spaghetti was smothered in Marinara sauce and the meatballs contained pieces of soft bread inside. I haven’t eaten this great in years.

“Was everything to your liking?” Dave asked wiping his mouth with a napkin as a waiter literally came out of nowhere to take our dishes.

I gave him a nod as I sipped some more of the cola drink I ordered.

“It was actually delicious. I’ve never had a client wine and dine me.”

Dave chuckled and he placed the napkin down. “I must confess something to you, Echo. I didn’t hire you because I wanted to sleep with you.”

I placed the empty cup of ice down on the table and lowered my eyebrows. “Oh, that’s okay. Many guys hire me just to be their ears. I have nothing against that. The best Escort is the one that can listen, think, and respond.”

A sense of surprise washed over his face or maybe it was admiration at my words. Either way, I wanted more pasta.

“That’s an impressive answer. Not many guys can say that and actually mean it. That’s why I was so glad to have done my research on you.”

My heart skipped a beat and I looked at Dave as if he was an alien with three horns. What the hell did he mean by “research”? That’s a very creepy thing to say to someone, especially an Escort no less.

“Um, what do you mean?”

“You see, I have more than restaurants, LGBTQ Housings, and shelters under my belt. I also have a successful Escort Agency as well. Have you heard of ‘The Midas Touch’?”

“As in Greek Mythology or...?”

He chuckled again shaking his head. “Yes and no. The Midas Touch is a very successful agency in New York City. I have more than 800 Escorts who cater to very powerful and wealthy men in the city. Their jobs are not solely on sex; they are hired to be dates to a wedding, weekend getaway dates, Broadway dates, and many more. But I’m sure you know more than anyone, Escorting isn’t just about sex.”

Of course, I knew! Duh, I’m the one that’s been saying that mantra for the longest.

I was going to give him a nod but my mind was still wrapped around the fact that he did research on me. “I’m sorry let’s put a pause on your question. You said you did research on me. What kind of research exactly?”

“What I tell you never leaves this room. Do you understand?”

Was Dave the ginger 007? Was he a spy sent here to enroll me in the Escort Spy program?

I wouldn’t hate that idea, I do adore me some English men.

I nodded my head and he continued lowering his voice to a mere whisper, even though we were the only ones in the top balcony of the restaurant.

“I have been travelling to various cities trying to find Escorts who fit the values and beliefs of The Midas Touch. It’s not as easy as putting an ad on Craigslist and hoping to God the person answering isn’t a complete nut job.” He shook his head and continued. “So I usually have my assistant infiltrate the agency I’m interested in, to find a few guys who stand out. I have not had any luck, until he told me about you. How you would put the needs of others before yourself. How you never regretted your career as an Escort and how you actually enjoy what you do. Those are the beliefs I yearn for in a potential employee.”

It all made sense now. There was only one person who kept on asking me questions since he started working for Somin last year. He would always take interest in my job, my schedule, and would always want to hang out after hours, but because my schedule was usually booked, we never had a chance to.

“Oh my God, Cypher is your mole?”

Dave cringed at the question but ultimately nodded his head. “Yes and he wasn’t a mole, he was just an advisor trying to find the right fit for my agency.”

“So that’s why he quit so abruptly.”

“Exactly. He has not contacted me yet but I am sure he is over at his cabin destressing. He isn’t much of a liar so all these identities tend to cause him stress.”

“I can imagine how hard lying is,” I muttered. “So you’re actually here to poach me into joining your agency?”

“I believe there is a better term for that… but that’s exactly what I’m hoping to do.”

I leaned my back against the chair and crossed my arms across my chest. “Okay, I’m listening. Wow me.”

Dave cleared his throat, smirking. I am not sure what kind of promises he made to the other Escorts but I’m not as easy. It’s going to take a whole lot more than a few zeroes at the end of a check to get me to quit Somin Agency.

“I understand your hours are random each day, week, month and year. To me that isn’t a smart business decision on your boss’ part. An Escort isn’t a sex bot to be stored in a closet when one client is done with him, then taken out when another wants him. An Escort is a human being that has a personal life. They’re busy with raising a family, career goals or saving up for college. Like you were, Echo.”

I have to admit this man’s words impressed me. It was refreshing to hear someone think of us sex workers as actual people and not just "whores and sluts" like the snooty conservatives—who are actually our biggest clienteles.

“So Cypher told you about that?”

He nodded again. “This is what drew me to you. Most guys in your predicament would become Escorts, get the money they needed to raise, and quit. You spent ten years now in this industry. Why?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Honestly? I love it. I love the diverse clients, the pay, the benefits, and even the sex. Oh, how I love sex.” I didn’t mean to blurt the last part out but it’s the truth!

Sex was something that made me feel alive and as long as I’m careful as is the client or my partner, then what’s the harm in that?

I don’t do drugs and I rarely drink alcohol, so for me having sex or in this case, having an orgasm and cumming, are things that I love! As the saying goes, “When you do something you love, it isn’t considered work.”

“Again that’s admirable. I tend to hate when Escorts are assumed to be damaged human beings.”

“You and I both,” I responded back shaking my head.

“And I can imagine how scared some of you were when you lost Erik.”

My first instinct was to ask how he knew that since the media just said both Erik and his John met through a Gay hookup app, but then I remembered Cypher was Dave’s mole.

“Speaking of that, and forgive me for prying, but did your attitude change after Erik died? What I mean by that is, did you start seeing your clients in a different light?”

I straightened my posture on the chair and looked at him. “You’re asking if I was worried the same thing might happen to me?”

Dave nodded. “Yes. I can imagine that was a hard blow to suffer losing one of your own.”

“I mean it was definitely a shocker for me. However, he and I were never that close to begin with. For whatever reason he hated me, probably was also threatened by me.”

“Hold on a second.” Dave adjusted his tie and straightened his posture on the chair. “You’re telling me you guys never had a bi weekly outing? Or even live in the same apartment complex?”

“Um… no. I live in a two bedroom apartment and most of the other guys live a few minutes away from the city.”

“That’s impractical!”

I had never seen someone react this way upon hearing that I didn’t live in an apartment complex with the other Escorts. I mean, after all this wasn’t the Playboy Mansion.

I realized where his surprise and probably anger was coming from. “Let me guess, you have your Escorts live in the same facility?” I asked.

“Yes! I own several properties throughout New York City. My Escorts live in the same building as one another. Not because the clients come to them, because that is never the case, but because I know that Escorts need a shoulder to lean on. No one truly knows what an Escort goes through but another Escort. I built a bridge of trust between Escorts and they see each other less as business competitors and more as a family. This is also why I do outings.”

“Where do you go for these outings?”

“Every month we go out of state and sometimes out of the country. Last month we went to Malibu. Many of the times, our bi weekly outings are to cabin resorts where the Escorts can bring their partners and spend a weekend getaway with them. For those who are single, they just go to unwind and enjoy the scenery.”

This man was practically the goddamn real life Willy Wonka!

I was at a loss of words. The life he was depicting was one that sounded amazing!

Outings, Escorts that are like family instead of competitors. The way he was going on about it, I wondered if he was talking about the Land of Oz.

If this place truly existed then I want to be a part of it, but there were obvious factors to this situation.

“Let’s say, hypothetically I decide to take this offer. What can I expect from it?”

“Well, for starters this position is based in New York City.”

“Red flag!” I stated without hesitation.

“I’m sorry?” I didn’t expect him to be educated in the fact that I have a crazy past in the Big Apple because that was a fact Cypher didn’t know himself—then again no one knew about that past other than T and me but he only knew what I allowed him to know.

“I have a very bad history with New York City.”

“That’s understandable. We all have a past. Mine is in Ohio. But if you do decide to take this offer, I wouldn't mind finding a different location for it. I just want to make sure this opportunity is one you’re one hundred percent certain about.”

“And what about my client list? I have three regulars who only come to me—no pun intended.”

“That will be a bit difficult to obtain since your client list is property of Somin. I would definitely have to check with my legal team to see how this is possible to obtain.”

“And what about pay, my medical and dental insurance?”

“Every one of my Escorts have an amazing Dental and Medical plan. We do mandatory HIV tests every six months and any Clients that join The Midas Touch are required to take HIV tests every six months as well. Safety and discretion of my clients are vital, but the safety of my Escorts are top priority.”

“And schedule wise?”

“You will have the option to work part time or full time. Part time will include 25 hours a week and full time will be 35 hours a week. This includes weekends as well. Just like Somin, we have a virtual catalogue where the Escorts know who their clients are. NDAs are included in the contract you sign when you choose to work for The Midas Touch. I’m proud to announce with my client list growing to half a million. I never had to fire an Escort or had any data breaches.”

“Good God, I’m getting hard just hearing about this.” I really wasn’t getting hard but it’s an expressive term I use, to say something sounds amazing and I’m excited about it.

“Good to hear. I’m not expecting a fast answer because I want you to think this over. I know this is a lot to mull over but I honestly feel you would make an amazing addition to The Midas Touch Agency and I assure you, I’m never wrong.”

I hated to admit it but he definitely wowed me. But I had a question to ask, “You’re a kabillionaire that donates and builds LGBTQ+ housings for homeless youths and you run an escorting agency?”

“I know it sounds like a wacky story. But honestly, I have seen many LGBTQ homeless people become sex workers. Many programs try to help them get away from that line of work, but others see it as the only thing they know and some, like you, love it. I would never want to crush someone’s love for something. Nor would I hire anyone whose heart, mind, and body isn’t in it. It’s not fair to them or me.”

Seriously, this man was speaking words that I longed to hear.

Unfortunately, everything he was telling me had more cons than pros and that scared me.

If I decided to leave Somin Agency, I’d have to move out of San New City. I’d have to leave my regular clients and leave the life I built for myself here.

Was I ready to move on from Somin after a decade? Am I ready to leave my life here in San New City for this opportunity? Did I even have a life outside of Somin?

“I have a business venture in Canada so I’ll be there for the next few days. I’ll be back here in San New City next week. I’ll book you for the 12th and you can tell me what your decision is and I assure you, whatever you choose I will be happy.” He clapped his hands together, smiling. “Now, I hope you have room for dessert, because on the menu is Panna Cotta.”

I didn’t know what the hell that was, but I was in the mood for something sweet and considering everything I ate and heard, I needed something to bask in because I had a lot to think about.

But he was giving me a whole week to mull it over.

What could possibly go wrong in a week?

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