CHAPTER 1
Irene
‘Hey, Birdie’ - I’ve heard my boss over the phone. ‘Apparently, those Japanese did not like any of the girls you’ve brought in….’
’Pedro, listen, those are the best I found with such short notice, plus it’s Sunday morning. I know they are a bit worn off from yesterday’s party, but I promise they will clean up nicely before the evening.
«I know, but you see, those clients have particular tastes. They want someone looking very young and fresh, like a teenager, with no fake lashes and hair extensions, no mini skirts and boobs all over the place. They were telling me the only girl they like is you.’
What? I could not believe what I’d just heard from Pedro. Did they prefer me? I’ve been working as a manager in an escort agency for almost two years now, and this was the first time someone from our clients even noticed me.
‘They pay well. I was going to charge them 5000 euros per night, but if you decide to accept this job we can go much higher, you know, much higher… Plus, I can make sure they won’t do anything you would not want, Irene’
I won’t deny that I took a second to think about it. I can make a lot of money in just one night. Pay for my school, buy myself a laptop, and put my mom into that medical facility I’ve read about in the magazine. It sounded tempting, but there are lines I just can not cross. Yet. Even if I work in an escort agency, it does not mean I’m ready to sell myself. That said, hanging out with girls who work for Pedro made me understand there could be a million reasons why a girl would make sex for money.
Almost Lovers: The Arrangement
’Pedro, I can’t. You know me, I won’t do it, and you can’t ask me for it.
‘I know, Birdie, I know. I’ll call you back.’
I was sitting in the lobby of the Grand Hotel across the street from Maidan Square. Kyiv was grey, muddy and hectic, as always. I had my pink t-shirt on, skinny jeans and running shoes, no makeup, a ponytail, and hairband on. I know why those Japanese liked me; I looked like a teenager here, who did not belong to this heavily draped, dusty old-fashioned interior and did not match the other girls in the room.
Clients ended up taking Olga and Sasha, and my job was to make sure those two would show up for an evening job in a more appealing attire, like pleated skirts and white stockings.
I’ve put my down jacket and beanie on and finally left the hotel, throwing myself into the February city chill. After all that dancing and champaign, I was a bit hungover from last night but still looking fresh like only a 19-year-old can. The 5% commission I get from today will go into my savings. I was heading home to get some rest and get myself ready for another crazy vivid night in the city of sin.
James.
I had never been to Kyiv before and was initially very excited about the trip. Until two weeks ago, when I ran into my wife Stefanie kissing another guy in a Mayfair hotel elevator. Our marriage was pretty much over long before that day, but seeing her openly embracing someone else hurt me more than I could have imagined. It was not that I was shocked; I knew she was cheating on me but did not want to admit it to myself despite all the signs. This scene in the elevator was humiliating and disgraceful to our family, daughter, son, and friends. I always treated her nicely, and she had everything she asked for and even more. The first few years into the marriage seemed happy. We had our Tiffany, a precious little angel, soon after Phillip. That’s when Stef started to become distant and cold. I thought it was postpartum depression, we’ve tried family consulting, but she was unwilling to open up to me. Our intimate life stopped. She started seeing her friends and going out without me a few months after Philipp was born. I thought it was too soon; she felt I was trying to lock her up in the house. We fought a lot, and she spent more and more time by herself, leaving kids to nannies and me. At one point, I asked if she wanted a divorce.
‘Hah, you are giving up on us easily. Do you even think how hard It will be for our kids?’
‘It’s hard for them already leaving with parents who fight all the time. Do you even love me still? Even a little bit?’
‘I think you should ask yourself this question. You know how much it will cost you if you want a divorce.’
She would get half of everything I’ve earned and inherited after my father died a year ago. And If I initiated a divorce without a strong reason like infidelity, she would quickly get custody of our kids. Since I saw her with another man in the elevator, I could cheaply get out of this marriage. She won’t get what she was hoping for. And I have an excellent chance to get custody.
When she saw me across the hotel lobby, she became immediately angry, like it was my fault.
‘Don’t you dare look at me like that! You’ve made me do it. You could not give me what I wanted!’ - she screamed at me in front of the whole lobby.
Later that day, she crawled back home, begging me to forgive her and give us another chance.
‘James, dear, I’ve made a mistake, but it made me realize how much I love you! You are the only man I want in this life!’
‘Stef, don’t be ridiculous. Stop embarrassing yourself even more. We are done. Now, out of my house!’.
‘Ok, fine! I never thought you could be so cruel, but promise me one thing if you want me to leave without a huge scandal. Promise, and I will be a good girl in court. We don’t announce or file for the divorce until the Bal D’Amour. We finish all our obligations as patrons, play it cool like we always did, and only after we tell the family and press. Saint Valentine’s day should remain as planned - we will be in Kyiv as a perfect couple.’
‘I can’t even look at you. I despise you; you realize what you are asking for?’
‘Come on, James, you will get rid of me for good in just two weeks. Do this one last thing for me, for the memory of whom we used to be.’
‘Fine. I will go to Kyiv with you, but not for you. I will do it for the charity.’
If Stefanie arrived at the infamous Bal D’amour alone, the press would go crazy and write speculations on our private life instead of covering the cause. The clean ocean project was way too important to jeopardize that over my wife’s infidelity.
So here I am, in one of our family’s hotels in the heart of Kyiv’s historical city center, within walking distance from Khreshchatyk, across the street from the Taras Shevchenko Park. I wanted to walk around the city, but it was cold outside and muddy —what a shame. I’ve decided to visit Historical Museum before the Gala to clear my head.
