She broke a rule, one of the many she had. Within one hour she had compromised so much about her professional reputation. He just sat on the end of the bed; she could tell he was agitated. There was a certain amount of confidentiality she was supposed to keep between herself and the clients. With him, though, it was always so captivating. He was captivating. She liked him. Something she knew was wrong. He ran a hand through his hair and over his beard. His complexion was dark, along with the clothes he wore. She always wondered if he was unhappy. There was always that emptiness about him, like he was lost in his own life. Perhaps the sex filled the void.
He wasn't naturally submissive; she understood that about him. In fact, when they weren't playing the games she found him frightening. She almost dreaded the time their sessions would play out or he would unexpectedly call his safe word and hurry off. That was when the dark, yet quite, man with the violent gaze came to surface. She would just look away or strut off into her office, wondering where he would go. Of course, she could allow herself to wonder too often.
He always had money. That was another thing that brought up alarming questions about him. Where would he get so much money? A discrete, quite, and unassuming man that had odd sexual interests, how would someone of that description make money? She often thought he was involved in illegal trades, just down to how often he seemed to disappear for certain amounts of time and then come back into the mix of things suddenly.
She never saw him outside of the club. Never once had she seen him outside of her working hours, even then it was just the games. She only knew him, on the level, when they would play out what he paid for. In a sense, she didn't know him at all.
When she saw him, mildly drunk, sitting in that bar in Franklintown where her financially struggling sister had stood her up once again, she felt obligated to say something to him. It wasn't allowed but at that moment in time she didn't really care.
He had noticed her, she knew that because the second she stepped in front of him he shook his head in anger and shot gunned what looked like a vodka faster than anyone she had ever seen. He flagged the bartender and paid his bill, sliding off of the chair and gesturing her outside.
She had no idea why she followed him, but she did. She followed him for a good ten minutes until they approached a high-rise apartment complex. He still hadn't said anything. He never really said anything. She remembered that he explained what he wanted in few words as possible.
" Just hit me. I'll let you know what I want from there. "
The elevator that took the two of them to his floor was dingy. There was dirt, grime, the floor even smelt of piss.
" You don't actually live here, do you? " She asked.
He didn't respond. He just looked forward. He was wearing a suit, a solid black suit. The tie tied perfectly. He would strip naked for their sessions but rarely got excited. She wondered why he would pay a mistress for such treatment if he didn't even find it exciting.
The elevator stopped and he got out gesturing her again as he walked down the hallway. They stopped in front of a door, three twenty-two, which he proceeded to open silently. Once open, he stepped inside, she watched as he examined every room in the apartment. All this did was escalate the fact that he was constantly checking for danger. Was he a dangerous man?
He ceased looking and sat on the edge of the bed that rested in the middle of what appeared to be the living room. I just stood in front of him, as he stared back me, that usual stare he gave me.
" I wish you hadn't done that. " He spoke, finally.
" Why? " I replied.
He looked away, toward the nearby window; that was when he stood up. Presumably examining something outside.
" What is it? " I said.
" Nothing. " He answered.
" I'm sorry, I was just ... curious. " I explained.
" You do this to everyone? " He asked.
" No. "
" So, why me? "
" Like I said. I was curious. "
He nodded and sat back down on the bed, this time taking his cell phone out of his pocket and placing it on the night table.
" I'm afraid I won't be coming back for another session. " He said.
She was kind of upset but not surprised.
" If you feel that is best. " I said.
" I have a few questions, though. " He said.
" Whatever. "
He smiled. She had never seen him smile.
" I just really want to know why you're taking such an interest in me. "
" I'm not. "
" Come on, we both know I'm strange. Why would you follow me down here? "
There was a pause. She swallowed.
" I don't know. "
" I do. "
" Yeah? "
" I think you're attracted to me. "
" You're wrong. "
He slid up towards the head of the bed, resting his back against that part of the wall. He simply smiled at her.
" Would you like to play? " He asked.
" What? " She answered, surprised.
" One of our games. We could play one. "
" I don't even know what to say to that. "
" I know you want to. "
" I don't. "
" Stop lying! "
She swallowed; a part of her did want to sleep with him both as a mistress and in a normal sense. She didn't want to show that, though it seemed as though he already knew.
" What do you do? " She asked.
" What? " He said.
" How do you make your money? "
" Do you really care? "
" Yeah. "
" No, you don't. You'd have cut me out if you did. "
" Fuck you. "
" What's your name? " He asked.
" What? "
" What's your name? "
She stood in stillness for a minute, just staring at him.
" Melissa. "
" Hello, Melissa. I'm Keith. "
" Keith Foley? "
" Yeah. "
" Hi. "
Keith stood up off the bed, looking back out the window.
" To answer your earlier question, no this isn't really my place, it's one of the many but to tell you the truth it's my least favorite. " He said.
" What are we doing? " Melissa asked.
" Well I'd like to think we're exploring something. "
" You're nuts. "
" Probably. "
" Why don't we just, forget this? "
" I'm over that. Either you see me on more personal level you don't see me. "
" That's not fair. "
" It is what it is. "
Keith took his phone off of the night table and walked over to Melissa. Dangling it in front of her.
" Program your phone number into mine. "
" Why? "
" We can both leave. I'll call you in a half an hour, we can get a beer, talk for a little while. "
" You're crazy. "
" Stop saying that. "
Melissa stood there astonished, taking the phone from him.