Chapter 2: Friendship

Thus, I saw Sarah four times over the next week for our exercise runs. As we ran, I shared with her my discovery of new restaurants, small successes at work with some threat detection software, and she talked about her job search, and her explorations around the town and county.

We were just into our second month of friendship when we took a long run on a Saturday and ended up back at The Station for another omelet breakfast. After we were served, Sarah studied me for a bit.

Sarah finally said, “Doug, are you gay?”

I kind of recoiled. No one had ever asked me that question. “NO!” I protested. “Whatever gave you that idea? I don’t mind people of that persuasion, but that ain’t me.”

Sarah laughed, “Well, I know what I am and that’s a hot babe, especially in tight running shorts and this sports bra, yet you’ve never even looked at me in lusty way, and by now I would have expected that you would have asked me for a date of some kind.”

I started to sputter and stutter. “I ... s You ... We...” I paused and restarted, “Sarah, I have noticed you and your ... mode of dress, but I’m not even in your league. You are so far beyond where I am or where I’ve ever been that I couldn’t even contemplate us going out together other than to jog – and that only because we kind of fell into the activity when you were new in town.

“You’re beautiful – stunning and all eyes are drawn to you, not because you’ve done porn but because you are stunning. You’re one of the most beautiful women in the world and will obviously remain that way for the rest of your life. I’m a rather plain guy without much pizzazz or charisma or draw.

“Besides that, I am shy and haven’t dated very much. I would embarrass myself with somebody like you pretty quickly. Heck, I think I told you when we first met that I am a super nerd. The kind of guy that I imagine you’d like would be more like a James Bond type in a black tuxedo with a style and grace as smooth as glass. I doubt that I’d ever be that kind of guy.”

Sarah sat back and smiled. “You have seriously overrated me. Let me tell somethings about my past. I have a dark side that you need to consider.”

She settled into her meal for a bite, and then started. “I lived in a one-room flat in a tenement in Vegas. It was the cheapest housing in the city except for the homeless shelter or a cardboard box. The rats had better housing. When I dated it was often with one of the guys from work – a cameraman, a grip, or maybe even my co-star. None of that was serious, and most of them wouldn’t even know what a tuxedo is. True, I had some rich guys that hired me as an escort that wanted exclusive long-term rights, but I turned them down because that’s not the kind of life that I see for myself. I wasn’t going to try to be a Pretty Woman in real life – like the movie. I knew that for them basically I was a whore, and nothing more. I’d get cast aside when something better, prettier, or younger came along. I was realistic.

None of those guys were boyfriends – not one. The last boyfriend that I had, with that title as such, was in high school. I did not fuck the whole football team as you might think. Not one of those boys or men ever met my standard for a ‘boyfriend’.

“I had a roommate named Ruby for a while when we first started fucking on film. We shared the rent and she was a hooker. We were both whores and about at the bottom of the pile. A few months after we became buddies, she ODed. That was a shock, especially since I was the one that found her dead. She’d stoked up, gone to bed to enjoy her high, and died in her sleep. I’d just turned twenty, and haven’t touched a narcotic since. That was a really dark period in my life. Some of the porn people I knew were into drugs a lot. More than just Ruby hurt themselves that way – ‘crash and burn’, we’d say.

“I contemplated suicide after Ruby died, but then decided that I’d fuck and suck my way into the future and save every cent that I could so that I could get out of the business. I set a goal and did about everything I could to get there. I had been spending about a thousand a month on drugs. Instead, I went cold turkey and I saved it. I sold myself – my body, and saved every cent I could. I bet I know every way there is to get a free meal and cheap rent – sex is often involved. I didn’t lose sight of the goal and that was to leave the sex industry and get back to a stable way of life – my ‘normal’, if you will. I was not your girl-next-door or your Pretty Woman. I was a money hungry whore.

“So, in reality, I’m this small-town girl that happened to get into a profession where she fucked or had sex with a lot of other people. She was a mercenary whore, and is trying to get out of that mode now. She has the residual reputation, and will for the rest of her life. I discounted that aspect of things and how people would see me, but that’s my bag of rocks to carry around the rest of my life, or until I get so old that no one recognizes me as Candy Sweet.

“So, am I out of your league? If anything, I’m lower in the caste system than you think. Some days I feel lower than whale shit. Please don’t think that you’re out of my league.”

She paused and then bluntly asked, “Have you looked at my videos online?”

I blushed. “Don’t go there, Sarah. I like our relationship, and I’d be embarrassed to go there.”

She shook her head, “Answer me, please.” She tapped the table near me firmly with one finger.

“Okay, yes, I’ve watched everyone that I could find – straight sex, multiple partners, lesbian, group, gangbang, BDSM, orgy, slavery, water sports, and masturbation, and then six of your romantic movies. And, to answer your next question, yes, I jerked off to all of them. You are or were sexy as all fuck. But the movies aren’t real. They’re abstract and fiction, like a good book. I don’t even connect them with you sitting here next to me.”

Sarah nodded curtly. “Thank you. Good answer. At least we have THAT behind us.”

I frowned, “What do you mean?”

“What are you doing tonight?” Sarah asked in a bold manner as she leaned forward.

“I ... was going to walk downtown and have dinner at the noodle house and then study about air traffic control procedures. Remember, I’m taking flying lessons.” I’d told Sarah about my interest in aviation and golf.

Sarah’s whole demeanor changed suddenly to become lighter and happier. “Doug ... oh ... Most Omnipotent, Omniscient, Great and Unobsequious Master of the Universe, Doctor Douglas Anthony Mallus, will you do me the honor of accompanying ME to dinner tonight at the noodle house downtown, and then maybe a nighttime stroll along the bayfront?”

I balked, “You’re asking me out – for real?” I was in total disbelief this could be happening. No female had ever asked me out.

She smiled, “I am. It’ll save you the trouble of working up to it. Back to where this conversation started. We come to this point as equals of some kind, and these days and in this place, it is acceptable for a woman to ask a man on a date.” She looked proud of herself.

I stumbled, “Yes, I’d be truly delighted to go out with you. I’m stunned by how beautiful you are and will feel privileged to be seen in public with you.”

“Good. My place at seven p.m. for a glass of wine, then we’ll walk downtown. The dress code is casual, but not grunge. Do not wear a tuxedo or try to be anybody other than yourself.”

We were silent after that exchange, and focused on our meals. My brain was truly scrambled by the last ten minutes of conversation, plus Sarah’s revelations. Our conversation devolved to what was going on around us and then the walk home and our apartments.

I had a flying lesson in the early afternoon, and did some studying about various types of airspace before and after my lesson. My instructor was named Ken, and he was ex-Air Force, so knew his stuff.

I knocked on Sarah’s door precisely at seven o’clock. I was dressed in casual clothes – jeans, nice shirt, loafers with no socks. She opened immediately and with a smile about a mile wide. “Mi casa es su casa,” she said and gestured me inside.

Sarah was wearing a gray mini-skirt, and a yellow polka-dot silk blouse that showed some deep cleavage. She also had on spike heels – stilettos. I couldn’t imagine walking around in those, but they did do wonders for her bare legs. She also had make-up on, carefully decked out and not overdone. She looked positively gorgeous and she was glowing. She had that ‘wow’ look to her, even more than usual. I had wondered whether when she dolled up, she looked trashy or slutty, but not at all.

The decorating she’d done in the condo was mostly blacks and whites with splashes of red and blue, and chrome. She had commented a week or so earlier that she’d bought some art for her bare walls. It was modern and I loved it. I told her so. She was proud to have also done some of the painting of her walls. We went and sat on her new white sofa. On the glass and chrome coffee table in front of us was a bottle of Chardonnay and two glasses, and a wine opener. I can take a hint, especially since all the wine I usually drank had twist off caps or came in cans.

We talked about her decorating, and carried our glasses as I got a tour of the rest of her condo. In some ways it was a mirror image of mine. Everything was neat as a pin except for one spare bedroom that she called her junk and project room.

We went onto her front balcony and looked over towards city center. A beautiful sunset lay in front of us. Below us, cars were starting to have a harder time finding parking spaces for a night out in town. A nearby theater was about to start, too; so, people were rushing to be on time.

“Have you been to the theater?” I asked.

Sarah shook her head. “Nope, except as someone’s guest. Tickets were too expensive and I was in saving mode. I went to some Vegas shows on my escort ‘dates’, and those were often some well-known singers – Celine Dion, Kylie Minogue, Miranda Lambert, and Shania Twain, to mention a few. Oh, yeah, there was also a good magician, too. What I saw, somebody else paid for.”

“Wow, you’ve seen a lot.”

“Just never a theater production. I’d love to see something like Phantom or Les Mis someday.”

“They do come here. I’ll see if I can get tickets. Expect a text sometime this week about it.”

“We running tomorrow?”

“Eight a.m.,” I grinned.

Sarah and I finished our glasses. I recapped the wine with the cork, and put it in her refrigerator. Judging from the contents, she ate healthy.

“Will you be okay walking so far in those?” I pointed down at her high heels.

She laughed, “Oh, yes. I’ve gone miles and miles in shoes like these. I know they’re sexy and signal CFM. That was part of the standard dress for somebody like me in the business. There were weeks – maybe months – when this was all I wore, or I was barefoot. It was part of my advertising, my brand, and my image.”

“I think I understand,” I offered.

Sarah got a shawl, and we headed out of the building. We passed two other couples from the building that I recognized from the Meet-Up. They both smiled and waved as we all headed out the door. We waved back.

Dinner was a nice affair, but the restaurant had zero ambiance yet good food. I promised to take her to another place with more ‘atmosphere’ sometime soon.

Sarah reported in nervous tone that she had a job interview lined up on Tuesday with a temp agency. “I never would have thought of that avenue to job hunt if you hadn’t suggested it. They read my email and resume, and then telephoned.”

“I’m just sorry that CSS didn’t have any openings in their admin area. I can tell that you’d knock everyone’s socks off. You’re so eager to get going.”

“Yeah, I need some cash flow. I’ve been using up my budgeted cushion before having a job and that has to stop, otherwise I’ll have to sell some of my investments to live, and I don’t want to do that. Some have hefty capital gains.”

“Whoa. What do you invest in? How’s that work for you?”

Sarah said in a matter-of-fact way, “One of the guys that wanted me to become his Sugar Babe was older, rich as all hell, and ran a hedge fund. Heck, I was still a teenager when I met him. We went out on-and-off for over five years, and in that time, I milked everything I could from him about investing. He was a great tutor and looked over my shoulder for another couple of years even though we were only friends then. He also helped me get my head on straight after Ruby died.”

That discussion triggered a long discussion about stocks, bonds, EFTs, and more. Sarah explained about her ‘Risk Triangle’. She made me gasp with awe when she told me that a $10,000 investment she’d made in Bit Coin, when no one had heard of it, had exploded into a million dollars before she dumped it.

“You’re a millionaire!” I gasped.

“I guess you could say that, but if I relied on only that money, I’d be broke in a few years. I have more stable investments that pay dividends, and also a bond ladder. Hugh, my friend, got me into Apple when we first met, and then into Monster Beverage and NVIDIA almost before they knew what a chip was. I put about every cent I could into them. All of them have done really well; for him, too.”

I sat back, “Can I give you all my money and see what you could do with it?”

“You have money?” Sarah asked.

“Not really. I’m seriously upside down. I have $40,000 in student loans, plus the last of a car loan to payoff. I know that’s a bad thing. Oh, and there’s my mortgage on the condo for the next twenty-five years. Besides that, I only have a checking account with a couple of thousand in it.”

Sarah smiled, “I’ll see what I can do for you. Shovel some over when you’re ready.” We both laughed. I didn’t think I’d ever get my head above water for two decades.

After dinner, we walked slowly through the downtown commercial area holding hands and window shopping. We got a lot of stares, if only because Sarah looked like the hottest woman in the state. I thought that I looked ‘average’, but as I’d told her, I wasn’t even in the same league.

Our stroll down by the bayfront turned into a huge surprise for me. When we were near the marina, Sarah stopped us walking, then turned to face me, and planted a kiss on me that boiled all the water out of the bay it was so hot.