Winter Flowers

"Where is the hotel?"

"It's The Ambassador. It's really just a short walk away, down towards the Esplanade."

"The Ambassador? Seriously?" Florian was shocked.

"Yes. Why? Is there a problem?"

"Isn't that place insanely expensive?"

"Ah! So you know it!" Irina thought quickly. "It's not cheap but cheap would hardly do."

"No?"

"No, I'm too expensive for a cheap hotel." Another lie. Naturally she would occasionally meet clients at a hotel, but these were always fairly good hotels. Clients of Florian's price range would simply meet her at her apartment. But to each fabrication there is a tiny bit of truth weaved in. "Besides, I get a discount at that hotel. I'm a loyal customer, you see? Sometimes they even pay me to just frequent their hotel bar. Not to scout for customers, of course, but to just add value to the venue."

"And they're fine with you bringing clients there?"

"How could they not be fine with it? My clients clearly have money to spend. Here the hotels see potential for returning customers."

"But Therese, I'm clearly not one of such clients," Florian objected.

"I can't treat you as any lesser. That would be bad PR. You've paid for top-class service so you will receive top-class service."

"I literally took the cheapest package you got to offer."

"What can I say. It's a bargain." She grinned.

"If you say so."

He didn't look convinced. Irina thought it better to change the subject.

"Now where do you see hot chocolate?"

As they walked on the slush-covered cobblestones, Irina was beginning to think that she may have made things unnecessarily complicated for herself by choosing Florian as the recipient of her Christmas surprise. Every second word she uttered was a lie. In fact, she began to doubt whether Florian would even be pleased to learn that she was doing this for free. She had planned to slip back the money envelope into one of his pockets together with a quaint little Christmas card. but she was beginning to worry that this would offend young Florian. Despite his youth he seemed like a man of principle, one that wouldn't take kindly to handovers.

They came to a large Christmas tree placed at the very core of the market. The red ornaments on it sparkled in the dimming light. At its foot stood a convincing-looking St. Nicholas, his cheeks as red as his attire, face covered by a mighty white-grey beard and his eyes sparkling like stars. He was jovially talking with the young children who came to admire his sleigh.

"Wonder where his reindeers went?" Florian mused as none were in sight.

"Maybe they got off early."

It was an impressive wooden construction and beautifully painted. A fine brush had painted on its side a joyful parade of reindeers and dancing elves playing trumpets and marching drums. It was the newest-looking piece of antique Irina had ever laid eyes on. The paint job was as if it had been done yesterday, but nobody builds sleighs like this anymore. Nobody knows how. There was no demand for such skill anymore. The detail on the brass lanterns alone was such as no modern blacksmith would know how to replicate. The live candles burned inside them steadily. The whole thing was truly a marvel to behold and a source of much excitement for the children, who curiously knew to respect the meticulous craftmanship that must have gone into its making. They were all begging Santa to let them have a turn sitting on its burgundy red leather seat.

"Was there ever a Christmas that you thought was truly magical?" Florian asked her as they admired the sled.

"Honestly, I always try to make each Christmas better than the last. It's the one thing that my mother always insisted on. While presents are always nice, my fondest memories are of all the things we did together: baking, ice-skating, eating, watching the Christmas specials, playing boardgames... and I suppose eating ridiculous amounts of chocolate too."

Florian snickered.

"That already sounds way better than the Christmas I know. I remember fights over politics among family members, bickering with my older brother, mom being stressed out over food. The gifts were pretty good though."

"Any of them really special?"

"I guess maybe the PlayStation was quite special," he shrugged smiling. It may not have been much, but he clearly thought fondly of the memory.

"Well, there you go!" Irina beamed.

"It kept me and my brother quiet and well-behaving for a record number of days."

"That too is enjoying your holidays together. There is no right or wrong way of doing Christmas."

"I suppose not."

They discussed Christmases past, present and future, the traditions and pastimes. Irina was sad to find out that Florian didn't seem to be as possessed by the Christmas spirit as she was. Despite being the only child of a single parent, she began to feel that Florian was the one who had it worse out of the two of them. His relationship with his family was strained. Florian spoke of his brother who spent his Christmases abroad and of his parents who coexisted at the brink of a divorce. Christmas for him was just another holiday filled with anxiety. Slowly, but surely, the ice surrounding him cracked. The more he opened up, the more convinced Irina became that all Florian really needed was a spoonful of Christmas magic.

Their surroundings could not have been more Christmassy, and Irina saw that it was all beginning to have the desired effect on Florian. The air echoed with Christmas carols, and everyone appeared to be enjoying themselves. With so much festivity around, Florian became more relaxed and better disposed. While he had been perfectly polite from the start, his smile seemed less nervous. There was a sparkle to his eyes that had not been there 45 minutes ago.

From a nearby stand they bought themselves cups of hot cocoa topped with whipped cream and marshmallows. The red ceramic cups bore the name of the Christmas market and a depiction of the wintry cityscape. The visitors were expected to return the cups to any of the stands at the marketplace and recollect the one-euro deposit. However, Irina was seriously thinking of pocketing her cup as a keepsake.

"No pictures for Instagram?" Florian joked as Irina immediately began spooning out the marshmallows.

"I'm not much of a person for social media. I don't like to give my data out for corporations to sell." She smirked. "Besides, I think it's better to live in the moment. How's the dark chocolate cocoa?"

"Delicious. Surprisingly bitter. They must make these out of real chocolate and not just powder."

"For a four-and-a-half-euro cocoa I would expect no less."

Slowly they came up on a beautiful merry-go-around. It wasn't like one of those brightly coloured ones with cars and trucks going speedily around to pop music but a magnificent two-storey carousel with horses that went slowly up and down. Its bright lights attracted adults and children alike, many young couples buying tickets and riding next to one another in the loop. The tunes that the monkey organ played all sounded familiar to Irina as if she had heard them all before. Had she seen this merry-go-around before?

They both marvelled at the magnificent lights and colours of the ride. It was like a large bright stage, overshadowing everything surrounding it. The worriless music and the laughter of the many children and adults racing each other were the centre of all attention. Irina could barely divert her eyes from it.

"Isn't it beautiful?" she laughed in amazement. "So many beautiful steeds to choose from, I'd have no idea which one to pick. Do you think you'd like to go on a ride?"

She turned to look at Florian and was shocked to find it drained of all colour. Gone was the sunny disposition: Florian's lips were now pressed into a hard thin line and his fists were clenched and nervously shaking.

"Florian?" Irina asked worried.

"Nothing."

"Excuse me?"

"It's nothing." He suddenly turned to Irina. His face was emotionless, and the words poured out of his mouth like icy water. "Do you think we should go? It's getting quite cold."

Irina barely had the time to nod in response before Florian turned on his heels and began to march towards the nearest exit. He ditched his half-drunken cocoa by the first counter they passed. Irina copied the suit. She looked back at the carnival of horses. Among the many equestrians she didn't notice a single face who might have given Florian an evil eye. Yet she knew that such a sudden change of mood could usually only be the result of a familiar face in the crowd. Whoever it was, it was someone Florian did not want to meet.

"Don't worry. I'm sure they wouldn't figure it out," she blurted as she hurried up to him and struggled to keep up. Florian wasn't exactly running, but he was taking such long strides that Irina was compelled to jog next to him.

Florian's grey eyes stared at her in confusion as if he was failing to understand what she meant. He finally grasped her meaning.

"No, that's not it," he said silently.

Irina understood. She knew not to press him.

Only once they were at a safe distance of half-a-mile away from the Christmas market did Florian finally slow down and become more considerate of Irina, who was already a little out of breath.

"I'm sorry," he said embarrassed, coming to a halt. "You must think me incredibly childish."

"Not at all."

"I just had to get out of there."

"Well, whatever it was that spooked you, they would have to be in top form to have kept in our tail." Irina laughed and adjusted the beret on her head. "Are you hungry?"

Florian was evidently thankful for the change of topic. That his strange behaviour had not ruined the night for her, and that she was willing to forgive and forget was something that he knew to appreciate.

"After all those sweets? Not really." He laughed. "But it would get us out of the cold for a while. Are you hungry?"

"I could do with a hot meal, to be honest with you."

He chuckled. "Alright. What do you suggest?"

The two of them briefly discussed their options regarding nearby restaurants and eventually decided on taking the tram to the harbour where a particularly good Vietnamese joint should have recently opened.

They were picked up from the nearest stop by a half-empty tram. Due to the evening traffic the tram progressed slowly on its route to the harbour, stopping every few minutes to permit passengers in and out of the cart. Irina and Florian sat next to one another, Irina by the window seat, both looking outside at the changing scenery. Many streets were now lit with Christmas lighting and the shops on the busy shopping street had special installations in their windows, sometimes depicting Santa's toy shops, libraries and dance balls. Outside ravaged a snowsquall, the many snowflakes no longer floating through the air, but instead falling towards the ground with heavy weight and hostility.

In the summertime the harbour was one of the busiest and most popular places in the city due to the frequent ferry traffic and the food market that was open daily. In the wintertime the place was unrecognizable, a mere ghost of itself. It was desolate and dark apart from the lights of a cruise ship on the opposite side of the bay. The black waters blended into the night sky. In daylight the waterfront was still quite picturesque, but the wind was too harsh for anyone to stay admire the view for too long. The only people who came here this time of the year were the few people regularly compelled to take the ferry out to the military settlement on a nearby island.

The surrounding neighbourhood was the home to many students in the city. As a consequence, one saw many quaint bars, restaurants and shops opening their doors for business. Irina had spent many weekends just walking through the narrow streets with her girlfriends and foraging the vintage second-hand shops for bargains. Her campus was on the other side of town, but sometimes a poetry slam or another hipster event would bring her here to see what new the city had to offer.

Luckily for Irina and Florian, the last stop was only a stone's throw away from Hanoi Blues. The wind was blowing in Irina's face, making it difficult for her to see through the blizzard. Florian, knowing which direction to take, took her by the hand and lead the way. To Irina's relief, they did not have to walk long, and he soon pulled open one of the shop doors and ushered her in.

It was an exceptionally large restaurant for a neighbourhood where the commercial spaces were typically compact. It was crowded, surprisingly so even for a restaurant that must have had its opening day two months back. Irina understood the appeal. The place was fairly dark due to the dim ceiling lights and small windows. The restaurant was partially subterranean. Most of the light came from the bright neon lights hanging on the brick walls, as well as the red candles on the round wooden tables. On one wall there were little booths with colourfully upholstered benches. It was quite warm inside, and this was something that Irina greatly appreciated coming in from the storm raging outside. Delicious scent of spices made her stomach involuntarily grumble, not that it could be heard over the relaxed chatter of the young adults and the moody jazz music playing the background.

A kindly Asian waitress led them to one of the corner booths. Florian helped Irina out of her coat before she excused herself to go wash her hands in the bathroom.

In the bathroom mirror Irina stared at the wild, ruffled image in front of her. Snow had partially melted on her hair and ruined her curls. Her make-up was in dire need of a refix. She sighed and began rubbing away the mascara smudge on her cheekbone. For a living and breathing fantasy, she was beginning to look threateningly much like an ordinary young woman.

It didn't even feel like she was with a client but on a date. Even when it was a girlfriend experience, she would have to bring things back on the sexy track.

When she got back to the table, she found that Florian had already ordered them a bottle of sparkling water. He too excused himself for a bathroom visit. Irina absentmindedly browsed the menu in the meantime. Many of the dishes had similar names and descriptions. The longer she kept reading the list of main courses, the more undecided she became.

"Have you had pho before?" Florian asked her when he had returned to his seat.

Irina had to admit that she hadn't, but Florian had insisted that pho soup was extremely weather appropriate. She had hoped to steer him towards finer cuisine, to offer him an experience like no other, but Florian hadn't been interested in any of the Belgian places she had pitched or even the nicer Italian ones. When she had suggested bouillabaisse at one of the it-places in town, he had gotten it into his head that pho bo would be the very thing they needed.

There were at least four different types of pho bo on this list from what Irina could tell. She eventually gave up on the menu and asked if Florian could simply order on her behalf.

Irina scanned the room. Many young adults, most probably students, were laughing and conversing. Few couples were clearly on a date. No foreigners, just locals. While Irina rarely came to this part of town, there was a chance that some fellow student did. The one benefit of upscale restaurants was that it was a safe place where there was a fairly low risk of bumping into acquaintances and friends who might recognize her, come talk to her and reveal her true name and identity to her clients. It had been a little careless of her to agree to come here. Fortunately, she didn't recognize any faces among staff or guests and their table was located in one of the darkest corners of the restaurant. Anyway, most people were too preoccupied in enjoying themselves that they wouldn't have noticed if Lady Gaga had entered the building.

But then again, so what if some friend of hers entered that restaurant that night. They would see Florian and think she was just out on a normal date. They might maybe give a meaningful look at her and smile in approval. Many of her friends, most of whom were unaware of her profession, opined that Irina was too young and too pretty to lead the life of a celibate straight-A student. If only they knew.

The waitress came by and took their orders. Irina was surprised at how naturally Florian could pronounce the foreign names of their orders.

"May I ask you something?" Irina asked him once they were again left alone. There was a coy smile on her lips.

"Of course."

"Why did you choose me?"

"Why did I choose you?" He repeated.

"Why did you choose me?"

"Hmm," he pondered quietly. "You were close to me in age."

"That I am indeed," Irina agreed.

"You are exceedingly pretty..."

"Why, thank you."

"And the website seemed legitimate," he laughed.

"That's all?" She looked at him doubtfully.

"Honestly, that's all."

"There was nothing on my profile other than my looks that caught your interest?"

"Somehow the way you wrote about yourself was really attractive."

"What do you mean?"

"You appeared really smart. I didn't feel like you were trying to sell me a hypersexual Barbie doll. Good grammar, classy way of representing yourself..."

"Oh."

"You felt like a real person."

There was something unsettling about what Florian was telling Irina. When she had asked Florian whether something about her profile had interested him particularly, she had hoped he would have responded with something like:

"The reviews said you do blowjobs very well" or

"You have the kind of ass I would love to violate" or

"It said you do BDSM roleplay as well. How far would you be willing to go with your sadism?"

Florian was clearly less interested in the sexual aspect of her work. He had chosen Irina not for the services she could provide but for her personality. Personality, which for now, Irina had assumed was not detectable in her profile. Effectively, he was not buying services from Therese: he wanted Irina. He wanted the girlfriend experience pushed to a limit Irina wasn't quite comfortable with. He wanted to connect with her, when it was imperative that she would not get too close to her clients.

"May I ask a question too then?" Florian asked.

"Of course!" Irina said, all too eager to change the subject now.

"How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"How can you work this job? If you aren't really in financial need --"

"Well, of course I have a financial need..."

"But it's not a pressing need, right? You could work another job if you wanted to, correct?"

"Yes. Yeah, I could."

"So why this?"

"Well, as I said earlier, I like this job."

"How did you get into it?"

"Pure curiosity, I guess. And high sex drive." She shrugged.

"But how can you have sex with just anybody?"

"The trick is to not sleep with just anybody. I get to know them. Just like I am right now getting to know you."

"Yeah, but you can't tell me you are attracted to all of them."

"I don't think I have to be."

"How can you have sex with someone you aren't physically attracted to?" Florian laughed.

"Quite easily, actually. It is slightly easier for women than men, I admit." She gave a meaningful nod towards Florian's lap. "But because I care about my clients, I feel comfortable around them. And when I feel comfortable around them, I can allow myself to relax and enjoy it."

"So, do you just see sex as an act? One that doesn't involve romance at all?"

"Romance is just one type of love. The love I feel towards my clients is more casual, maybe even platonic."

"So, you're saying you love all your clients?"

"Yes, I would say so."

"Are you also saying then that you are currently in the process of falling in love with me?"