2

Helen thought honestly about Mindy and how she compared. Mindy was shorter than Helen unless she was wearing battle gear. When she was all dressed for work, Mindy wore ten-centimeter heels. She was tanned and pierced and tattooed in all the right places and Helen was simply nothing like her.

Helen didn’t even have long, pretty hair. Her hair was that unfortunate color that was neither blonde or brown, and to top it off, it was cropped so short that it was almost boyish. She had no figure to speak of. She was pale and… ordinary. Couldn’t a guy get a girl like her anywhere?

“Don’t you think I’m plain?” Helen asked when Mindy broached the subject a second time.

“Plain?” Mindy asked skeptically. “Plain? What do you mean? If you think you’re ugly, think again. It’s true, you need help, but your problems are nothing that can’t be solved with makeup and a little extra attention. Basically, if you give me permission to do whatever it takes to bring you up to snuff, you’ll look like a fox promptly.”

“Really?”

Mindy snuffed, “Everything is fake anyway.”

“No one is naturally beautiful?”

Mindy rolled her eyes and said caustically, “Even Cinderella needed a glass shoe.”

“Then I’ll do it,” Helen said. She was too desperate to pay her bills to think rationally.

“Okay then. You asked for it,” Mindy said, picking up her car keys and heading for the door.

Mindy took Helen to her agency where she introduced her to the boss and told her they could use her for the busy season. No one wanted to be alone around Christmas time, so there was always more than enough work. The woman in charge didn’t seem very interested in Helen, but assigned her the working name of ‘Vera’ and told her she’d work with Mindy the first few times just to make sure she was trained properly. Then Mindy took her to the back for her makeover.

The first thing Mindy did once they were alone was pierce Helen’s ears. She’d never had it done and it felt like her head was going to explode it hurt so much.

Mindy groaned when Helen whined. “Look, I’m not going to brand you. It’s a miracle you managed to make it to nineteen without having it done anyway. This isn’t a big deal.”

But, it didn’t matter what Mindy said, Helen still felt sore as Mindy busily gave her a facial, manicure, pedicure, plucked her eyebrows and did her makeup.

When Mindy finally left her alone, she felt sure she’d made the wrong choice. Beauty was too painful for her. She didn’t want to be beautiful when the price was getting your eyebrows plucked—hair by hair. She even considered bolting… but she did need the money. Ugh! She had to endure it.

Mindy brought her back a long honey colored wig and plopped it on her head happily.

“It’s great that your hair is so short. This way we can do whatever we want with you,” she said with a smile. “You’re going to be super hot.”

All in all, by the time Mindy was truly finished with Helen she was living a double life. By day, she was mild mannered college student Helen Paul and by evening she was Vera, an extremely beautiful and elusive escort who would never be seen past Christmas.

Or so she thought.

Mindy was right. Christmas was busy. Vera went to six office Christmas parties, three charity auctions, one ball, two shopping excursions, a dinner party, and a performance of The Nutcracker. By Boxing Day, her first day off, she looked at how much money she’d earned dating interesting men, and she was still four hundred dollars short on tuition, not to mention January’s rent, and additional expenses. She crunched the notice in her hand and knew exactly what it meant. She would have to work on New Year’s Eve. And who would be her partner that evening?

So far, the guys she had dated hadn’t seemed that bad. Most of them were in their twenties or thirties. They didn’t have wives and weren’t likely to. They had just gotten in the habit of phoning for a date when one of these once-a-year awkward occasions came up. Some were more embarrassed than others, but she worked hard to make them all feel like she saw them as real people instead of just a customer. One of them even phoned and requested her again. Mindy thought that was great and gave Helen smiles and cheek pinches to congratulate her on her first return client.

When the end of the night came with one of these men, they’d call a cab for her and put her in it without asking for so much as a hug. More than one of them had even told her that she was much too good a girl to be working as an escort and she’d be better off giving it up.

But by Boxing Day, she hadn’t earned enough money and she’d have to work New Year’s Eve—terrifying.

Mindy’s words still haunted her. “New Year’s Eve,” she said with a wink. “Everybody’s date gets a kiss on New Year’s Eve. Don’t even think of trying to skip out.”

Helen gulped. If she worked that night, she’d definitely have to kiss her date!

***

Helen popped her purple bubblegum and tried to work out some of the tension in her back. It was the dreaded night—New Year’s Eve. Rats! She was dressed like two billion dollars. Her dress was deep red, the color of the season, and she was wearing a long black coat with fur trimming Mindy had loaned her for the occasion. All her clothes were borrowed from Mindy, except for the inserts in her bra (those were a gift). To complete her look, Helen wore long dangling earrings with rhinestones inset in them and a choker to match. The wrap she would wear once the coat was hung up was black with deep red blossoms scattered across it in a gorgeous array. Helen thought it was prettier than the dress. The wig she wore that night was sandy blonde with bangs that fell slightly into her eyes.

That night she was supposed to meet Mr. Mark Lewis in the lobby of the Grand Morton Hotel—downtown—uptown—a really good part of town. There was a party there in one of the ballrooms and she was his insurance that he wouldn’t be going stag to the biggest party of the year.

She pushed through the revolving doors just before eight o’clock hoping she’d find him quickly. She was supposed to wait by the courtesy phone in the lobby. Phase one of the date wasn’t a big deal. She’d been meeting men that way all along. Even though it had barely been a month, she felt like a seasoned professional. The reason sweat was forming in the space between her shoulder blades was that she couldn’t stop thinking about the cold fact that she was going to have to kiss her date. Of course, Mindy was right. Having someone to kiss at the stroke of midnight was the whole purpose of hiring an escort on New Year’s Eve. It was socially embarrassing to have no one to kiss. Helen just needed to pull herself together. She’d been kissed before. Lots of times… she thought.

She rolled her eyes and looked around for a place to spit her gum before her date got there. But she was so nervous she accidentally started to blow another bubble.

“Looking for something?” a deep male voice said coolly.

Helen’s gum bubble deflated as her eyes met those of one of the most handsome men she had ever seen. Helen didn’t even get a chance to examine him closely when she realized he was holding a silver dust bin in his hand, poised to catch her gum.

Helen reached into her pocket and quickly pulled out a tissue. There was no way that guy was her date, but her date was probably in the lobby (if he was on time) and she didn’t want him to see her spit a wad of purple bubble gum directly into a waste bin. She already felt like she’d tripped up by being majorly outclassed in the fancy hotel. She rolled her gum up in the Kleenex and dropped it into the bin.

“Thank you,” she said, trying to cool her cheeks and manage some sort of composure.

Then she moved away and stood closer to the courtesy phone. She leaned against the pillar and tried to look for her date.

But the guy with the trash can wasn’t leaving. He set the bin down near a chair, came around, and leaned against the pillar beside her. “Was your gum grape or raisin flavored?”

“Those are the same,” Helen said, still scanning the room and not looking at the man next to her. “It just depends on whether or not the French side of the package is showing.”

He laughed. “Are you waiting for somebody?” he asked, flirting.

“I have a date.”

“Is he handsome?”

“Who?”

“Your date,” he answered, chuckling.