THE BILLIONAIRE’S CALL GIRL

04.

[Lena]

I don’t leave the house.

I don't even leave my room

I don’t even know how I ended up sitting on my bed for hours like a hostage in my own apartment. Because what even just happened?

First, I was just accusing a billionaire of breaking into my home.

Second, I got branded as a stripper for a billionaire.

I drag my hands down my face.

“Okay,” I whisper to myself. “Okay, Lena. It’s fine. You’re fine. Everything is fine.”

It is not fine.

Absolutely nothing about this is fine.

I look around my apartment like it might suddenly explain itself to me. The silence is loud. But my stomach rumbles.

I exhale and finally stand, but my eyes fall on the phone on the dresser.

My phone is somewhere in this mess of a situation. And then, there's this one. A phone I don’t even remember owning properly. A phone that apparently connects me to Damien Vale’s entire personal crisis.

And I’m supposed to just… what?

Sleep?

Eat noodles?

Actually yes.

Sleep? Not happening! But noodles? I have to be alive to think straight.

I leave the room and walk into the kitchen to prepare noodles with egg. That's the fastest thing my lazy self can make now.

I force myself to finish it, and proceed to sit in front of the television, not because I want to, but I have to. I need noise. Anything that's not my thoughts. I have to keep my mind occupied till Anna gets home. She'd have a solution. She always does.

And like that.....seconds turn into minutes and hours and eventually—

The front door opens.

“Lena?”

Bless Anna Laurent and her dramatic timing.

She walks in, still in her work clothes, hair slightly messy, looking like someone who has survived the outside world and is now judging me for not doing the same.

Her eyes land on me immediately.

Then the couch.

Then my face.

Then my soul, apparently, because she pauses.

“…Why do you look like you’ve seen God and he was disappointed in you?”

I weakly tuck my hair behind my ear. “That is not even the worst part of my day.”

Anna chuckles, “oh really?”

I inhale.

Good manners demand that I let her settle in, eat and freshen up, but I can't hold it any longer. I'm going to tell her everything.

I try to start logically, but there is no logic.

So I start like this:

“Okay so—Damien Vale was in this house.”

"Lena please. I deserve rest after dragging your drunk ass all the way home and still had to rush to work early this morning. I'm not in the mood to audit whatever story idea you have right now."

I don't respond.

My eyes are simply glued to hers.

Anna blinks. Once. Twice. Then she slowly lowers her bag. "You usually reply back."

I still don't respond so she knows I'm not joking around.

"Lena?"

"Damien Vale was here." I drop the bomb.

Silence envelops us for a minute.

"The Damien Vale.?"

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

She stares at me like I’ve insulted her ancestors.

“Lena. Be serious.”

“I am being serious!”

“Lena.”

“I am VERY serious!”

She sits down slowly like her bones have given up on her.

“Start from the beginning.”

So I do.

I explain cute guy. The other guy who looks like a rhino. The apartment invasion. The staring. The questions. The way Damien Vale looked at me like I was a puzzle he didn’t order but still decided to solve anyway.

By the time I finish, Anna is silent.

That’s worse than screaming.

Because Anna always has something to say.

Eventually she speaks.

“…So a billionaire broke into your apartment and accused you of being a stripper?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re alive.”

“Yes.”

She leans back.

“Oh God, I hate your life.”

“Same.”

We sit in silence for a few seconds. Then she sits forward suddenly. “Okay. Wait. You said something about a phone?”

My stomach drops a little.

“That’s… complicated.”

“Lena.”

I sigh and tell her about the phone. From the bushes to the collision. The masked woman. The panic.

Anna listens very carefully, which is never a good sign.

When I finish, she doesn’t speak immediately. She just stares at me like I’ve joined a secret society without her permission.

Then—

“You’re telling me,” she says slowly, “you accidentally stole a phone from a billionaire’s… whatever situation this is.”

“I didn’t steal it. It fell into my life.”

Anna rubs her forehead.

“We need proof you weren’t at that club.”

“I WASN’T.”

“I KNOW THAT! BUT DAMIEN CLEARLY DOES NOT!" She yells back at me and I bite my lips.

"The footage!" Anna suddenly jerks forward.

"Huh?"

"The restaurant where we had the reunion remember?"

"Yes! Oh yes! Yes Anna!"

I knew she would have a solution. That's Anna Laurent. A high income accountant and my best friend right there.

We decide to get footage. The reunion night. The area outside the venue. Anything. Because apparently my life is now a courtroom drama.

Anna makes calls.

I sit there, waiting.

The call drops and Anna looks at me with a smile. "Jack says he'll help"

A heavy sigh escape me.

Oh thank heavens for Anna.

********

The next day, the footage was in our possession. Jack—one of her many friends— somehow pulled it off as promised.

The masked woman's face still wasn't visible, but the mixup and when she picked up my phone and I picked hers was clear. I really hope this helps me out.

I could barely sleep throughout the night.

Everything the screen lit up with a sound, my soul left me. Whoever this woman was, she has a weird life, because an alarm was set for almost every two hours.

What the heck was it supposed to remind her of?

I borrowed one of Anna's phone to use, as I was to scared to touch that one. I spent the night googling Damien Vale.

I could write his biography all from what I've read. But one thing remained constant in all searches: He's one scary man.

Anna had left already for work and I was barely breathing as I awaited their call.

The day slowly fizzles away without a ring from them. The next day, I finally stepped out of the apartment. I got myself a new phone. I didn't even need the old one back. I just wanted Damien to call me and let's get this over with, but it didn't happen and today is the third day since that encounter.

As I locked the door behind Anna and air kissed her goodbye, my phone finally rings.

The speed I ran with, I couldn't explain where I got it from.

Right on the dresser, I hadn't moved it from there since that morning. Jonathan's number was vivid and bold. I didn't even dare to save it.

I swiped green.

"Miss Hamilton?"

I swallowed with balled fist, "Jonathan."

"Argh, you didn't flee yet. Good choice. Mr. Vale wants to meet for dinner tomorrow at 5pm. Clear your schedule. Don't flee now." the call ended before I could speak.

BEEP

BEEP.

I got a message from Jonathan. It was an address. Didn't read like a restaurant. I swallowed my spittle. It was finally ending tomorrow, but why was I suddenly feeling heavy instead of relief.

The phone next to it began to ring.

It was my own phone. The new phone I'd bought. Anna was bold on it. She talked about dinner. We were to eat out.

When the call ended, I stared at the address once more. Then I fell on my bed. My eyes glued to the ceiling and my phone dinged with a notification once more. I checked it.

It was a calendar reminded.

I am to send money to my mom tomorrow for upkeep.

Subconsciously, I opened my bank app. My account balance wasn't looking nice. Even more, my finger shouldn't have tapped my sss app. The last message from my editor was sitting there staring at me.

It's been seven months since I completed my last book, and all other ideas have been rejected. I needed money too.

I sighed and picked my laptop.

I shouldn't have googled that, but I did.

I typed it in really quickly and curse network for being so fast.

*Prompts to spark your writing*

1. Write on anything that happened to you lately. Doesn't have to be a crazy event. Maybe a dog walk, morning coffee, shopping spree...

But something crazy did happen to me.

I got mistaken for a stripper.

And with that crazy idea. I opened a fresh doc page and began writing.

*Denim, hoodies, oversized tees—anything that lets me breathe.

That’s my style.

Not this.

This—this medieval torture device Stacy(my best friend) bullied me into wearing tonight. The darned corset is actively trying to compress my personality out of my body. It hugs too tight and presses in all the wrong places. I mean who wears a scoliosis brace to a gathering where delicacies line the table. *

One word turned into a hundred and soon a full chapter was down. I shouldn't have even thought about replying my editor but I did.

My crazy self saved that document and mailed it to my editor.

Even worse, I clicked on my website and typed it in as a new post with the caption. "what do you guys think?"

I had just crossposted it on my f*******: when my room door got bursted open.

"You're not ready yet?" Anna had a frown on her face.

I glanced at my wall clock.

"s**t!" I cussed and hurriedly closed my laptop. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I got carried away. I'll be ready in ten. I promise".

Anna rolled her eyes and walked out. And as promised, in ten minutes I was done and joined her out. By morning, I told Anna of Jonathan's call.

My best friend gladly picked out my outfit for this important meeting of my life, and as the clock struck 5pm, I was already out and had held a cab.

I handed the address to the driver and he nodded and began making his way there.

My heart thudded really hard in my chest as I checked the footage for the umpteenth time. I wanted to be sure it was there.

I can't even tell if we were halfway there, but my phone began ringing.

MOM was bold on the screen of my new phone, meanwhile, the phone that tied me with Damien sat quietly in my purse. I exhaled and picked up.

"Mom. Goodevening"

"Lena, can you hear me?" Her voice sounded from a distance that had me frowning.

I could hear her footsteps scurry close and a little scuffle before her voice came out louder and clearer. "Lena?"

"mom"

"oh hi. Hi.. How are you?"

"I'm—I'm good. I'm fine. And you? What of dad? I already sent you the money this morning, did you see it?"

"Lena.... Your dad...." her voice broke.

"mom?"

"Lena your dad got into an accident."