On a Wednesday evening, a black envelope arrived, sealed with gold wax, and the Arquette insignia was shining under my desk lamp. I slit it open and pulled out a card embossed with swirling script: Masquerade Ball, Hotel de Las Estrellas, Mexico City. Saturday, 8 PM. Business attire, masks mandatory. The Estrellas Ball wasn’t just a party; it was a battlefield for deals, alliances, and power plays, disguised in velvet and champagne. As CEO of Arquette Ventures, I had no such luxury of missing it. Yet the RSVP form teased me: plus one. A date? I had not dated in years. Asking a friend has occurred to me, but there would be nobody to be interested in such a ball of business affairs. My cousin Miranda would have jumped at the chance, but her bar-hopping life was not ball material. I needed someone polished and discreet, who would not steal the spotlight. By Thursday morning, I had settled on a solution: an escort! A professional with no strings… I called an agency I had used once before
Last Updated : 2025-04-16 Read more