Page 51 of Mayfair Madame
I eyed her open-mouthed. “Pineapple. On pizza.”
She shrugged. “I like what I like.”
I shook my head and ordered her food. I didn’t care what she wanted as long as she ate something.
“Here, let’s find you some clothes while we wait. Can I get you a drink? Hot? Cold?”
I strolled into the bedroom, not caring that I was still naked. It was my house. I could do whatever the hell I pleased. Ellie didn’t seem to mind either, as she followed me.
I opened the door to my walk-in wardrobe and ran my hands along the clothes hanging on either side. Row upon row of dresses, shirts, trousers, and skirts. There must have been over one hundred and fifty pairs of shoes on racks, and at least a hundred handbags, all different colours and styles.
Ellie stood at the entrance, her eyes wide.
“I’ve never seen so many clothes and shoes. I have a half-filled, small wardrobe at my flat with room to spare.”
I grabbed a robe from one hanger and handed it to her. I took another for myself.
“The only problem is, things might be a little long for you. Fuck it, let’s get a drink first. Pizza won’t be long.”
Remnants of the nightmare lingered, and I needed something a little stronger than water to drive the rest of it away. Having Ellie here helped tremendously. Usually, I was alone, and I’d lie in bed terrified, paralysed with fear.
Other times, I’d scream and cry, fucked off that it could still affect me all these years later.
“What can I get you?” I pulled a bottle of whisky from the cupboard in the lounge. “I have this, or I’ve got soft drinks. Coke or lemonade?”
“I’ll have a whisky.”
“Excellent choice. Rupert got me this for my birthday last year. It’s a ten-year-old Macallan single malt, and knowing him, it wouldn’t have been cheap. I only drink it on special occasions.”
“What’s the occasion today?” She sniffed the drink I’d handed to her.
“You’re here. What better occasion than that? We had a good day, and I’ll admit, the sex was pretty amazing too. So, a good day all around.”
We sat on the sofa. She held my gaze as we clinked glasses. “Cheers.”
With any other whisky, I’d have knocked it back, but this was a drink that required savouring. I rolled the liquid in my mouth. It was smooth as it went down, not harsh like many. Rupert knew what I liked.
“Tell me about Rupert. Who is he?” She sipped her drink, not shuddering once.
“Another long story, but I think I’ve been saying that a lot. My life has been full of ups and downs, good things and bad, but Rupert is definitely an up.”
“How did you meet him?” She swirled the amber liquid in the glass, watching it with interest.
“I was working for another escort agency, hating the job but not knowing what else I could do. I’d been in the business for years and was looking to get out. The money was good enough, and I probably had enough to live on.”
“It’s a lucrative business, although prostitutes on the street might argue differently.”
“Oh, I’m well aware I have it good. Better than them. I know what happens on the streets. Stories of rape, assault, heavy drug use, pimps. I get it, Ellie. I really do. I know I’m one of the lucky ones. Hell, I’ve lost some good friends over the years.”
“So, how did you get into the business?”
“One thing at a time. That’s a really long story for another day. Probably a weekend, but first, let me tell you about Rupert.”
I smiled, remembering the old man. He was a shrewd businessman but a lonely person. His companion died some years before.
“I met him, let me think, about seven years ago? I was working for the other agency then, a little farther north.”
“Not in London, then.”
