Brilliant, creative, charming Bridget Torjesen could have picked any career. She chose to be a high-priced escort, providing pleasure and companionship to those willing to pay. With the anarchist hacker Charlie as her booker, her friends in the Free Spirit Connection, and her diverse clientele, Bridget’s adventurous life is filled with erotic bliss – and fraught with many risks. But she is determined to rise to every challenge in pursuit of her calling.


She came in right before eight, wearing a royal blue chiffon wrap dress with a handkerchief hem, her graceful stride making the fabric flow like water. Everyone who caught sight of her seemed mesmerized. She made a quick survey, and soon found J.T., who rose to greet her.

“Perfect timing,” he said. “And that dress!”

Bridget smiled. “I take it you approve.”

“That is an understatement.”

She laughed very softly, then turned to look over at the bar. “That’s her, in the light blue?”

“Uh huh. All set. Even the bartender’s helping out.” He then handed her one of the keycards. “Room fifteen forty-one.”

“Very good,” she chirped. “So, just have a seat, keep your cell phone on just in case, and we’ll talk later.”

He nodded with a smile. “Thanks for doing this.”

“My pleasure,” she acknowledged, and proceeded to the bar. When she reached the stool next to Clara, she slid the newspaper aside with an effortless motion, and leaned in as the bartender came towards her, a cosmo in hand. “Good evening. What do you have in the way of California white wines?”

That was her cue. Clara took the cosmo as it was set before her, and glanced up at Bridget. Then she looked again, wide eyes fixed on the tall woman with a glossy cascade of red hair, stunning green eyes, classic cheekbones, nose like Kate Middleton, lips like Scarlett Johansson, and strong yet lithe limbs. She worried that she was staring at her, then that she was avoiding her, as she heard the bartender recommending some buttery Chardonnay. Breathe, Clara, breathe. Take a sip of your drink. Try to relax.

Then that alluring voice: “Hello, there!”

Clara turned to see her now leaning against the bar with a bright smile and a slight tilt of her head. She opened her mouth, but her reply took a full second to emerge: “Hi.”

Still smiling, the redhead extended her hand. “My name’s Bridget, by the way.”

“Clara,” she replied, taking her hand.

“Clara,” Bridget echoed, a suggestive lilt to her voice. “So, tell me. Is that wedding ring for real, or just to ward off unwanted suitors?”

Clara managed a smile as she held up her left hand. “Oh, it’s real. Married three years now.”

“I see. And just where is the lucky devil?”

“Well, um, we did have plans for tonight, but, uh, he got this call from work, had to leave town for an emergency.”

“Oh, that’s such a shame! Was this for a special occasion?”

“Yeah, actually. My birthday.”

She lifted her glass in a toast. “Well, happy birthday, Clara!”

“Thank you.”

“So,” she continued, leaning on one arm, “perhaps we could salvage the night for you. I’d love to do something special for such a lovely lady.”

Clara laughed nervously, feeling herself blush. “Wow!”

“Wow what?”

“I can’t believe you think I’m lovely.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“Well, … you’re gorgeous!”

“Why, thank you,” Bridget purred. “I’m glad you think so.”

“I mean, you are, like, way out of my league!”

Bridget giggled softly. “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that? Now, let’s see. What would make the evening special, hm? Dinner at the Tiara? A moonlight stroll? Maybe a movie?”

“That’s quite a full evening.”

Now Bridget moved closer, her voice like a tango, slow and sensuous: “Or, we could forego all that, go up to my room, have a more intimate celebration?”

Clara looked right into her eyes, trembling. “Are you coming on to me?”

“What if I am?”

She let out a laugh, then held up her left hand. “I’m married! Remember?”

Bridget floated to her ear to whisper: “I won’t tell if you won’t!”

Clara couldn’t help smiling, even as she feigned surprise. “You’re serious!”

“Mmm hmm. Especially since I’ve yet to hear you say no.”

“I haven’t said yes, either. I mean, what makes you think I’d even be interested?”

“You know,” Bridget told her, “the human body has many fascinating ways of showing someone’s innermost thoughts and feelings – body language, facial expression, the flush of one’s cheeks. But the eye is most revealing. It’s not just dim light, but seeing a person whom one finds enticing which makes one’s pupils grow big and black. Just like yours are, right now.”

Clara quickly averted her gaze, taking a gulp of her drink. “¡Dios mío!

Bridget once more spoke softly to her: “No espero que te abandonas a su marido, sólo que persigues su deseo para una noche.”

Now Clara felt the delicate grazing of a fingernail along her forearm. She swallowed hard, then looked up at Bridget’s beguiling smirk and gleaming eyes. “Let me,” she stammered, “think about it?”

Bridget leaned back a bit with a smile. “Fair enough.” She took one more sip of her wine, pushed the glass back, and picked up her purse. Before she left, she brought her lips once more to Clara’s ear, imparting with a sultry murmur: “I’ll be in room one … five … four … one.”

Clara shivered, then peeked over her shoulder, seeing Bridget glide towards the lobby, then stop in mid stride, as if she had sensed Clara’s spying eyes before turning her head to gaze at her. That was all it took. Clara gulped the rest of her cosmo, put down the glass, and hopped off her stool. Bridget lifted her head with a smile and proceeded to stroll out of the lounge, Clara trotting behind her, as J.T. watched, using his glass to cover his grin.

Once in the lobby, Clara had to navigate through the bodies of guests and staff, keeping her eyes on that striking red hair and flowing azure silk. She almost lost her for a moment, until at the elevators, one car with the doors still open, Bridget standing inside with a couple, Clara dashed towards her as she saw the doors begin to slide together.

She just made it…

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