The Billionaire's Escort

KATJA

Rock-bottom. That is a good way to describe my life. Stupid, stupid, girl! That was me. Like, how the hell did I not see this? Always going away for work, not calling, not answering my texts. Excuses upon excuses.

Until yesterday when I finally caught him in the act. I came home early from my shift because I wasn’t feeling too well. I had the worst headache ever and my manager gave me the night off. I work as a waitress at a local bar. It wasn’t the best job in the world, but the tips were good, especially over the end of the month. My boyfriend of two years who shared an apartment with me had a decent job as a personal assistant to a lady CEO. I was saving up to go to art school.

She worked him to the bone, he was always complaining about it and had to accompany her to a lot of work-related functions. I never once questioned him about it. Well, that was then. When I came home that day and heard moaning and panting coming from my bedroom, I realized just what ‘working him to the bone’ really meant.

He was having an affair with his boss right there in our bedroom. I stood there frozen in place, staring at the two of them going at it like bunnies. When they finally noticed me, I turned around and went to the kitchen to swallow a handful of painkillers with water, hoping it all had been a fever induced hallucination.

But no, it wasn’t.

“Baby, I’m sorry… I meant to tell you about Cheryl and me.” Rick, the cheating bastard, tried to explain. Standing in front of me dressed in only his boxer shorts, I tried to unsee the image of his naked butt pounding into that woman. He was handsome, in a boyish way and she was… old enough to be his mother, for fucks sake.

I was having none of it. I put my hand up to stop him. My head pounded like a bongo drum at my temples.

“Save it. Take Mrs. Robinson with you and get the fuck out of my apartment and out of my life.” I pointed at the door.

“Baby…” he pleaded.

“Seriously! I am Katja to you, not your baby.” I held on to the kitchen counter to draw some kind of strength from it. I wanted to cry, but my head was too painful.

The older woman came out of my bedroom, dressed in her pinstripe suit, not a hair out of place. She was beautiful and sophisticated I couldn’t deny it. Was Rick after her money or was he just a toy to her? Whatever the reason, I just wanted the both of them to get out and get away from me.

“Katja, sorry about this. Rick and I have been together for more than six months now.” She looked at me with pity in her eyes. “He should have told you.”

“You know what, I don’t want to hear it.” Six fucking months. “Please just go.”

“Rick, get dressed. I’ll send someone for your belongings.” She ordered him and he turned around like an obedient little lapdog.

I fled into the bathroom leaving whatever her name was standing in my kitchen. I locked the bathroom door and stayed there until I heard them leave. Then I fell to the dirty tile floor and cried until I had no breath left.

***

I woke up the following morning feeling like shit. My body was stiff and sore from lying on the bathroom floor all night. At least my headache was better. Finished in the bathroom, I unlocked the door. My bag was still on the floor beside the bedroom door. I heard my cellphone ring and scratched for it in my bag.

There were several missed calls on my phone. Most of them from Rick. Goddamn cheek! I still had a hard time trying to wrap my head around what I witnessed. I blocked his number. There were texts as well. Long explanations why he was fucking his boss. I deleted all of them. Then I started deleting all our photos, one by one.

That done, I went into the bedroom and plucked open the built-in cupboard. I ripped out his clothes and threw them in a heap on the floor.

“Fuck you, Rick!” I screamed as I scattered his stuff all over. I opened the window. My apartment was on the third floor and my bedroom window looked out on the busy street. Grabbing a handful of his clothes I threw them down onto the sidewalk, narrowly missing a passerby.

“Hey, what the fuck? Are you insane?” the guy shouted up at me.

I gave him the finger and slammed the window shut. Yeah, I probably shouldn’t throw his shoes out there I could hurt someone.

“What the hell are you doing, Katja?” Rick stormed into the bedroom and grabbed my arm.

Damn! He still had a key.

“Get your cheating hands off me, Rick!” I pushed him away, but he was stronger. His fingers bruised my upper arms. His baby blue eyes stared into mine. I wanted nothing but to scratch them out. I fought in his grip.

“Stop it, Katja! I was worried, you didn’t answer your damn phone. I thought you had done something stupid.”

I burst out laughing.

“How arrogant are you? Thinking I would do something to myself because of you?” I managed to get out of his grip. “You’re not that irreplaceable, Rick Brody. Get over yourself.”

“Look, Katja, if you’d just be reasonable…”

“Fuck you, Rick! Go to your Mrs. Robinson. Take your stuff and fuck off.” I threw one of his shoes at him. It struck him on his chest.

“Don’t call her that.” he said, frowning.

“Then what should I call her, Rick. Your mommy?” I laughed, taunting him. She was at least twenty years older than him.

He slapped me. Shocked I held my burning cheek, staring at him. He looked just as shocked as I felt.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it, Katja.” He reached for me, but I took a few steps back.

“Get your stuff and leave before I call the cops.” My breath hitched in my throat. I didn’t know him at all.

He marched to the kitchen I heard him rummaging through the cupboards. He came back with two black bags and began stuffing his belongings into them. I glared at the bed we shared for two fucking years. I wanted to burn the damn thing. Or throw it out the window. Luckily, I wasn’t strong enough to do that. Whatever. I was never going to sleep on it again. I would rather crash on the couch. Unless they did it on there. I rolled my eyes. I needed to get new furniture.

“Hey!” I shouted at him when he reached the door. “Leave my keys on the table.”

He glared back at me, took the keys from his pocket, and threw them down on the floor. Then he went out and slammed the door shut behind him.

I picked up the keys and placed them on the fridge where I usually leave them. My phone rang and I hoped to God it wasn’t my mother because I didn’t have the strength to talk to her. Picking up my phone I saw the caller id. Brittany, my oldest friend, and partner in mischief. I sighed and pressed the accept button.

“Hey, Kat where you at, girl? I need some girl time. Are you home?” Brittany was a talker, and me a listener.

“Yeah, aren’t you working?” I asked, she was always changing jobs, never could stay in one place for a long time. She was a regular gypsy that one, changing jobs and boyfriends like she did her clothes. We were so like two different sides of a coin, but together we worked.

She laughed, her clear, infectious laughter sounding in my ear. “Tell you about it. Be there in ten.” She ended the call.

I shook my head. Ten could mean anything from ten minutes to ten hours to days. I went to the kitchen to make myself breakfast. Opening the fridge I realized Rick hadn’t bought the groceries like he was supposed to. Too busy screwing his boss on our bed, the cheating bastard. I slammed the fridge closed. I made myself some black coffee instead. Black like my heart.