Love For Hire

Nicholas opened the mirror cabinet and took down his bottle of OxyContin. His hands trembled as he tried to open the lid.
Getting the bottle open, he dumped four pills into his hand and then tossed them in his mouth. It was far more than he was
supposed to take at once, but any less barely took the edge off. He put the cap back on and returned the bottle of pills to the
shelf before closing the cabinet.
His hands were planted firmly on the edge of the bathroom counter. Nicholas looked at his reflection. He was a mess, but he did
not care. He was expecting a girl, but he could not be bothered to fix himself up. After all, he paid her to fuck him, not judge him.
Octavius had called the service hours ago to arrange some pleasurable company for the night.
As royalty, he should not have to pay to play. He was a wealthy, young, attractive man... if he tried, he would have no problem
picking up beautiful women in clubs willing to go to bed with him, but in his state, Nicholas did not like going to clubs, and he did
not feel like playing the game. He just wanted someone to go to bed with him and leave. No conversation, no getting to know you
bullshit, just mindless no strings sex and then leave him alone.
He stared at the mess in the mirror, and he could feel his anger and despair grow. Suddenly Octavius appeared in the washroom
doorway. His expression sympathetic and his tone empathetic. He had not seen Nicholas take the handful of pills, but he did not
have to. Everyone in the house knew he popped pills like candy. “The girl has arrived,” Octavius told him.
Nicholas stood up and exited the washroom. He sat down in his favourite chair and picked up the half-empty glass of bourbon.
He took a big sip and returned the glass to the end table, then picked up his cigar. “Send her in,” he said, making himself
comfortable. He lifted the cigar to his lips and inhaled as Octavius left the room, and a young woman walked in. She slowly
walked around the bed so that she was standing in the middle of the room.
Nicholas’ gaze raked over the woman before him. She was very young. She was short, probably barely clearing 5’4”. She was
not voluptuous or curvy; she was actually very petite and slender. She was dressed in a soft blue cocktail dress, which was light
against her toffee-coloured complexation. She clearly was not white, but he was not sure what she was. She seemed to have
Latino features, but he would not say she was of Mexican or Latin descent... at least not fully. She might have been mixed-race;
yes, the more he looked at her, the surer he was that she was just that. Her hair was long and straight, a beautiful soft caramel
colour. It shimmered in the firelight. Her eyes were big and a deep rich dark brown.
She had a pretty heart-shaped face with a perfect nose and lush, full lips. She was far prettier than the other women the agency
had sent him. It was strange, he knew she was a prostitute, but she had an odd air of innocence about her. He sat there,
enjoying his cigar as he looked her over. He could not help but notice she was doing the same. Looking him over and taking him
in. Suddenly he almost wished he had cleaned up. But then again, she was a prostitute, and it is not like he needed to impress

her. She was going o sleep with him regardless of how he looked. He took another puff of his cigar and studied her. “What is
your name?” He asked. He was not sure why he was asking; he never asked any of the others. Names were not exactly a critical
thing for him, but for some reason, he wanted to know hers.
“Kinsley... Your Majesty,” her voice wavered like she was nervous. Strange for a prostitute to be nervous. Suddenly he
remembered Octavius saying the agency was sending over a new girl. Was she just new to the company or new to the trade
altogether? Judging from her state of unease, he was betting she’d never done this before.
“Are you nervous?” He asked.
“No,” she was lying.
“Octavius says you are new.”
“Yes. You are my first client.”
“First, with this company or first-ever?”
She looked like she did not want to answer. “First ever,” she confessed.
“Interesting,” he took another drag from his cigar. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-one,” she said.
He wondered how fresh she was. “Have you ever been with a man?”
“Yes,” she assured him quickly like she thought if she said no, he would find her inexperienced and send her away for someone
who knew what she was doing. She would not look him in the eye when she said it, though. She was deliberately avoiding eye
contact.
“Really?” He asked, not believing her. “How many?” He asked, pushing the subject.
She was thoughtful for a moment. “Three?” She finally said.
Nicholas lifted one dark brow. “Are you asking me?”
“Three,” she repeated with more conviction.

“Three?” He asked, not believing her.
She could tell from his expression he was not buying it. “Two?” She said, changing her answer. He just fixed her with a hard
stare. “One?” She said, changing her answer again. He just stared at her. She sighed. “Ok, none,” she confessed with
embarrassment. “But I am a fast learner, and I am willing to do whatever it takes to keep you happy,” she said quickly, trying to
argue why she thought he should let her stay.
“Anything is a broad term,” he told her. “I do not think you have realized what you have gotten yourself into,” he said, putting his
cigar in the ashtray and standing up. “I will have Octavius call you a taxi. You may wait downstairs,” he said, walking toward the
door to call for Octavius.
“No!” She said quickly and grabbed his arm as he tried to pass her. Nicholas paused in shock and looked down at her hands on
his arm. She was the first person to have ever dared to touch him without his permission first. In his country, grabbing a member
of the royal family was a criminal offence punishable by prison time. “Please,” she pleaded with him. “I need this job; they will fire
me if you send me away,” realizing she had overstepped, Kinsley released his arm and stepped back, looking apologetic.
“Please, just give me a chance.”
He turned, so he was standing face to face with her. Less than two feet away, he could not help but realize how much smaller
than him she really was. She had to crane her neck to look up at him. Her dark eyes were pleading with him.
“Is this really how you want your first time to be? With a john?” He asked, trying to put things into perspective for her.
“It is either going to be you or some other john. At least you are cute,” she said, offering him a playful smile that actually brought
a grin to his face.
“Why are you doing this? You seem like a nice girl, far too nice to be in this line of work.”
“I need the money.”
“Why not get a real job?”
“I had a real job, and I got laid-off. Look, I have not eaten in days because I cannot afford food. My utilities were cut off last night
because I have not paid the bills in two months. I have no phone because I am so far behind they have sent me to collections.
And I am two days away from being homeless. I need money, and this is the only option I have left. Please do not send me away.
I am willing; just give me a chance,” there was such desperation in her eyes.
Nicholas stared into her eyes, and he felt bad for her. Maybe he could give her a chance. “You have not eaten in days?”

She seemed surprised that he had focused on that part of her confession. “I do not know four days, maybe. Why?”
Nicholas walked over to the door and opened it. He looked outside and spotted the maid dusting. “Have the cook bring us up
dinner for two,” the woman nodded and rushed off to do his bidding.
He shut the door and turned to face her. “Did you just order dinner?” She asked, confused.
“Yes, if you are going to stay, you are going to need your strength. Do not want you fainting from malnourishment,” he teased.
“But are not you paying by the hour?” She asked.
Nicholas snickered as he walked past her back to his chair. “Darling, I have the wealth of a nation behind me. I can afford to
waste a few hours,” he said, sitting down and picking up his cigar. “Besides, do you have someplace better to be?”
“No,” she said unsurely.
Nicholas gestured to the empty chair next to him. “Sit,” she walked over and sat down on the edge of the seat, her back straight
and her hands folded in her lap. She was still nervous. “Can I fix you a drink?” He offered.
“No, I am good,” she refused.
“It might relax you,” he suggested picking up his own drink and taking a big sip. He was often told he should not mix booze with
pills but screw them; he’d do what he wanted. What was the worse that could happen, he’d drop dead? Big deal, he had nothing
to live for anyway. There was a knock at the door. “That would be dinner.”
“That was fast?” She said with surprise.
“My staff is very efficient,” he said. Nicholas did not eat very often, but the cook prepared every meal anyway in case he decided
he wanted to eat. It ensured he would not have to wait long when he was actually hungry.
“Should I get the door?” She asked.
“No. Enter,” he raised his voice, and his maid walked in, carrying a tray with two plates. The cook had made BLTs; he loved a
good BLT. She walked over and placed the tray down on the small table between the two chairs. She then quickly left. He looked
over at Kinsley, who was biting her lip and practically salivating as she looked longingly at the food. “Please enjoy.”

She then grabbed the closest plate and picked up the sandwich. She ate with urgency. And within minutes, she had devoured
the whole plate. She then looked at his. “Are you going to eat that?” She asked.
Nicholas looked at his untouched sandwich and then back at her. She was clearly starving. “No, be my guest,” Kinsley snatched
up the other sandwich and began to eat it too.
He watched as she polished off the last. He’d never seen anyone eat that fast before. She put the plate down and looked
embarrassed by her ravenous behaviour. “Sorry, that was not very attractive.”
He chuckled. “Would you like more? I can have the kitchen send something else up.”
“No,” she shook her head. “I am sorry I ate yours.”
“Do not be. I was not hungry anyway,” he really was not. Most of the time, he could not even stomach food. He ate a little every
couple of days. Just enough to get everyone off his back. “Feel better?”
She smiled sheepishly, and he smiled. “Yes, thank you,” she looked like she felt awkward. “I do not mean to rush you, but can we
just get this over with?”
“Wow, nothing puts a man in the mood faster than the woman he was going to bed with say ‘can we just get this over with.’”
She looked away. “I am sorry.”
He had a feeling nothing was going to put her at ease. So maybe he should just move things along. “Ok,” he said, putting his
glass down and picking up his cigar. “Stand up,” she stood up like instructed, and then he smiled. “Take your clothes off,” Kinsley
stood in front of Nicholas, her nerves still obvious. He was watching her impatiently as he finished his cigar. “Any time,” he
prompted when she hesitated to do as instructed.
Kinsley took hold of the thin zipper on the side of her dress and slowly lowered it, letting the dress fall to the floor. She stepped
out of her dress and using the toe of her high heels. She kicked it aside. She stood in front of him now in her dark blue panties
and bra. Her body was flawless, and he most defiantly approved.
The desire to touch her was too much. Nicholas put his cigar down and stood up. He walked over to her, standing extremely
close. He shrugged off his shirt and tossed it on the nearest chair. She would not look him in the eyes. But he was used to that.
Most people would not look him in the eye. He lifted his right hand, letting his fingers graze her soft jawline. Her skin was so soft,
almost like silk.

Her gaze drifted to his hand, and a questioning look claimed her pretty face when she saw the long thick scars across the soft
fleshy side of his wrist. Kinsley reached up and took his hand to prevent him from pulling away, allowing her to inspect the
wounds on his wrists. She then reached down and took his left hand, turning his wrist upward so she could see the matching
scars. A few of them were old and healed, and a few were more recent. The most recent only a few months old. Failed attempts
to take his life. Her eyes lifted from the scars and met his, and he saw curiosity and sympathy.
The way she was looking at him made him uncomfortable. Nicholas pulled his hands away from hers and walked to the door.
“Get out,” he ordered as he opened the door and stepped out into the hall, yelling for Octavius.
“What? Why?” She asked, reaching for her dress to put it back on.
“Just leave!” He barked at her as she reached the door zipping up her dress. Octavius appeared at the door. “Call a cab and
send her home,” Nicholas ordered.
“What did I do?” Kinsley asked as Octavius took her by the arm and urged her out into the hallway with him. Nicholas slammed
the door, cutting himself off from the woman and his man. He looked down at his scars and felt his hands begin to tremble again.
He was going to need more bourbon.