London’s a small city for escorts

I knew it would happen. The time would come when I would be almost caught out in London. Well, yesterday was that day and it left me feeling tetchy afterwards! I’m fine now as I always think quickly and they you just move on happily with your life.

I was drinking a skinny latte, when I noticed a guy looking at me. He was sat at a nearby table. When I caught his eye, I blushed as I realised he knew I was and one of escorts from the firm, he had been a one-off client about six months previously. His so-called name was Martin. I recalled that he’d contacted me, via my booker and actually the hotel-room activity wasn’t that thrilling.

I sipped the last of my latte and was about to leave when my ex-boyfriend, Robert, smiled past me, and walked by. I turned my head to see him joining Martin. I felt my heart sink and I hurriedly grabbed my bag. As I headed off, I found my fake diamond solitaire ring and slipped it onto my wedding ring finger.

I had managed to walk about twenty metres, when I heard my real name being called. It was Robert. He said he had seen me get up and wanted to know how I was. We chatted briefly and he looked at me curiously. I knew Martin had said something and wondered what bombshell he was going to drop. Indeed, he came straight out with it. “So what do you do for a living nowadays, Lisa?”

I smiled as I inwardly groaned and searched for a business card. It had my real name, my personal mobile number and details about my soft furnishings business in London. I gave him the card and that was when he noticed my ring. “Oh, you are engaged then?”

“Yes, my boyfriend James proposed to me four months ago when we were in France.” I was fibbing and Robert looked at me with a grin. “My friend, Martin, actually thought you were some sort of escort!”

I looked back at him with a shocked expression. Then I retorted,

“Your friend probably tried it on with me, in some club, and would have been knocked back. There are some real losers around here.”

Robert knew I was annoyed, “He’s going through a bad time, and I told him you weren’t like that.” I just turned, waved and left, before he could try to appease me any further.

That was a close shave. I would tell my booker to delete Martin from my records, and to check out any potential clients called Robert.

 

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