Chapter Text
“Yes, he’s waiting for you,” the young woman staffing the desk in a habit smiles brightly at you. She motions down the long marble hallway to your left, just off the foyer, a large wooden double door at the end of it. “It’s open, just give a knock as you enter.”
“Thank you,” you return her smile, but there are nerves behind it you hope aren't obvious.
She briefly looks you up and down as you start to step toward the hallway. “He’ll like that,” she lowered her voice just above a whisper while leaning in with an encouraging nod. Maybe your nerves were that obvious.
Acknowledging her kind comment with a tight-lipped smile you turn away from the desk and start down the hallway. It was long, taking longer to traverse than it even looked, and the click of your heels comes to match the pounding in your chest as each step seems to echo in surround. The walls, ceiling, and floors, all covered in the same gray veined marble tiles.
Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, the friendly feedback on your outfit makes you lift your head in confidence. “Fake it til you make it,” you mumble out loud, quietly to no one. It was a phrase you’d steeled yourself with often in your high-profile business role. When it came to work, you’d learned to compete with the best, tamping down whatever insecurities you may have had in exchange for your take-charge persona.
Opting for a classic black mid length dress, you look nice. It was the type you could wear to a business meeting with a jacket, then quickly shed it and, adding a bit to your makeup, make the easy transition to cocktail hour. You wore your hair down though tonight, going for a hybrid presentation of your professional and after-hours self.
* * *
A little over a week ago you’d made this appointment to meet him for the first time. A best friend of yours was going on over your monthly Sunday morning coffee meetup about a guy she’d been seeing. It wasn’t the excited girl talk about the start of a new relationship or handful of dates with the promise of more to come. Instead, she was regaling a tale about what sounded almost like an escort service to you.
“No, no, no” she laughed your interpretation away. “I rather like to think of it as sex therapy,” she said in all seriousness with a straight face, before the two of you burst into the kind of awkward but comfortable laughter only two best friends can share.
You had no judgement for what she was going on about. Mild intrigue actually, if you were honest. When you’d asked for more concrete details, she revealed he was actually the head of some church. “I don’t know, it’s probably a dubious cover for recruitment, but apparently he’s insatiable and likes doing things for those who ask.”
It was as much a sensical explanation as it also made absolutely no sense. By the time your coffee hour was up, she’d passed you the same blue business card with nothing but a phone number printed in a shimmery gold color that was given to her. She didn’t reveal where or how she came upon this mystery service provider but implored you to take it and think about it.
A couple days later after a rough day at work you find yourself ruminating on the card in your purse over a glass of wine, alone in your apartment. It was the same place you came home to day after day, doing the same thing you did night after night.
Building a successful career in a high-pressure environment didn’t leave you much room for a personal life. Dates here and there, sure, but most of the guys you went out with seemed to have this reverence for you that was more of a turn off than a turn on. It was obvious included in their fantasies was the high-powered businesswoman bossing them around in bed. Of course it was nice to be put on a pedestal, but it just didn’t do it for you. That’s who you were at work all day, was it so hard to understand wanting something different in your off time?
What you secretly longed for was the way some of the guys you worked with could be so expectant and uncompromising when they'd made up their mind on something. Instead of you spending energy to argue your point on a matter, or even getting the carte blanche with a good plan you put forward, which you then had to worry about executing, you wanted to just let go and have someone else make all the decisions. To stop analyzing and fighting for control, to have the freedom to just go along for the ride without worrying about how that would be perceived. You have an image to maintain at work, you don't want to have one in the bedroom too.
You settle on giving the number a ring in the morning. If your best girlfriend was having such a good time with this, maybe you could too. What could it hurt to at least check it out?
* * *
“Ministry Services,” the pleasant woman’s voice answered the line, confirming the number you’d reached but with an inflection that questioned what your call was for.
“Yes, hi there, I was given this number by a friend and wanted to inquire.” You put on your best Miss Business voice, not sure what you were getting into exactly but deciding to go with sounding professional about it.
“Ah yes ma’am, would you like to make an appointment?”
“Yes, please,” the response was out of you before you really thought about it. You’d thought plenty about it last night already.
“And this would be your first visit?”
You clear your throat before answering, a bit of nerve showing through now that you were getting into details. “Yes, it is.”
“Very good, would Wednesday evening, the 6th, at 7pm work for you?”
You scroll through your calendar quickly, making sure there’s no dinner meetings scheduled for work that night before confirming. You scribble down the address she gives you as well as the date and time on a sticky note. She took your first name and explained you should plan to arrive a few minutes early and the appointment was for a consultation. “Thank you,” you exchanged pleasantries before hanging up the phone.
That evening you text your best girlfriend. “I have a ‘consultation’ lol.”
“OMG yes haha!!” The reply comes a minute or two later. “Call you in a bit?” Followed immediately after.
“Sure anytime,” you had no plans on tap for this evening with nothing cropping up from work, as per usual you grumble to yourself.
An hour later your phone lights up with her call. “I can’t believe it, I’m so excited for you!” She is bubbling over immediately when you pick up.
You share her laughter and excited mood, though you aren’t exactly sure what you should be so excited about. “You’ll like him, he’s like a chameleon, whatever you want, seriously,” she gushes.
You giggle at the prospect; she’s making this sound like the time of your life but the mystery it’s shrouded in nags at you too. “So, like really, what’s the deal?” you ask her seriously once the initial excitement of the conversation wanes.
“Well, he is a little… weird,” she admits playfully.
“What the hell does that mean?!” You laugh the question in apprehension coupled with disbelief at her wait to say something like that, especially now that you’re already committed.
“It’s not exactly a “church” church. You’ll see what I mean. Safe place in a safe area, don’t worry about that. He’s, um, he’s interesting though.”
“Interesting?” You roll your eyes repeating the word back to her. “For real, what did I just sign up for?”
“Nothing you don’t want to do,” she immediately brushes aside your concern. “He’s a little, theatrical, let’s put it that way, but very nice, very open, and you’ll just have to see. I promise you I don’t think you’ll regret it. Oh my god I’m so excited for you I can’t wait to hear how it goes!” She returns to gushing at the end.
You don’t get much else of substance out of her other than Italian, hot, and some offhand reference about Halloween. It’s ridiculous but intriguing nonetheless and you settle on just going with the mystery. Once you’re off the phone and in bed later that night, you are pretty excited. It’s been a while since you stepped into anything unknown, bogged down day after day with the same bullshit at work and fake pleasantries at after-hours business dinners. At least you now have something on the calendar you’re looking forward to.