Home > Mr. Garcia(6)

Mr. Garcia(6)
Author: T.L. Swan

“Why are you telling me this?”

“You’re something special.” Her eyes hold mine. “You have that X-factor, April.”


“I want you to be an Escape Girl.”

I sit up in my chair. “Oh, I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that I’m—”

“Five thousand pounds a night.”

I freeze. “What?”

“The payment to be an Escape Girl is five thousand pounds a night. That’s nearly seven thousand dollars in American currency. You don’t have to sleep with anyone. You don’t even have to touch them. You do have to spend the night in a suite with them, but there are two bedrooms in the apartments if you choose not to go there. We have twenty-four-hour security, and your safety and identity are always protected.”

“I’m… I don’t… I mean… what?” I sit up in a fluster. “Five thousand pounds a night?”

Porsha smiles, knowing she’s piqued my interest. “That’s right, April. You could earn twenty thousand pounds a month by simply working one shift a week.”

I could pay my rent for an entire year in just one month.

What the fuck?

“Think about it.”

I stay silent.

“Kayla just signed up.”

“Kayla from the waiting room?”

“Yes, she’s out there waiting for the backstage tour now.”

“Oh.” I have no words.

She stands. “Come and look around. You can think on it.” She stands and opens the door, while I sit still, in shock…what the hell?

“Kayla.” Porsha smiles. “Are you ready for the tour?”

“Sure am,” Kayla replies. She seems as sure as day about this. Did she know what position she was applying for?

Porsha turns her attention to me. “Are you coming, April?”

I stand. “I don’t think…” My voice trails off.

Five thousand pounds a night.

“Come on.” Kayla widens her eyes at me. “A look around won’t hurt.”

I look between them, feeling like the ultimate party pooper. “Umm, okay. I guess.”

I follow Porsha and Kayla out of the office and down the stairs. The club seems like it was an old theatre at one stage. It has a gradual drop to the stage at the front, and there are small sections above, clearly once alcoves. Porsha takes a card, swipes a scanner, and a big, black security door opens. We walk through what looks like the back of a Victoria’s Secret show. Small dressing tables line the space, filled with makeup, wigs, and all kinds of glamorous things.

We walk through to another room, and I see a huge rack lined with designer dresses, all of sequins, lace, and feathers.


“All your laser and beauty treatments are on the house while you work here,” Porsha says as she walks us around. “And there is a cap on your shifts. Escape Girls can only work four times a month.”

Kayla does a jig on the spot, as if this is the most exciting thing that has ever happened to her. “Can you believe this?” she whispers.

“Are you crazy?” I mouth.

“Shh.” She links her arm through mine. “Just look around.”

We follow Porsha around the club. She introduces us to the security team and then takes us into the elevator. “On a normal shift, you would come in and have your hair and makeup done professionally, and then you would pick your dress.”

My stomach flutters with nerves as we ride up in the elevator. I imagine the scenario she is setting.

“You would be introduced to the Escape members during the fashion parade, and then after the cocktail party.” The elevator doors open, and we follow her down the swanky corridor. “You would pick your partner and come up to your suite with them.” She uses her security card and swipes the door open and then holds it back for us to pass through.

We walk in, and as I look around the luxurious apartment, my stomach begins to flutter with even more nerves.

Porsha’s phone rings, she glances down at it in her hand. “I have to take this; excuse me for a moment. Look around, girls.” She walks out into the corridor, and Kayla begins to jump around in excitement. “Oh, my fucking God.” She grabs my hands in hers. “Can you believe this?”

“I can’t fuck a rich guy for money,” I whisper.

“Sure, you can. I’ve fucked dead shits for free before.”

I giggle. This is true.

“Five thousand pounds, April, and you don’t even have to sleep with them.”

“I can’t do it. My morals won’t let me.”

“I need a new apartment and a month in Spain more than I need morals. Where does being a nice girl get you?”

I shrug.

“Living in a dump. That’s where.”

“Kayla,” I whisper. “This is full on.”

“Come on. We can help each other through it. When will we ever get the opportunity to make this kind of money again?” She smiles, her face full of hope. “And besides, if it’s crap, we just leave.”

“It’s prostitution,” I whisper.

“It’s just an offer, that’s all. We don’t have to sleep with them. Porsha said so herself.”

“But you know we probably will.”

“I can think of worse things than sleeping with a pro-athlete.”

I giggle.

“And besides, nobody will ever know. It’s the perfect fucking job, April.”

“God,” I whisper. I can’t believe I’m even considering this.

Porsha comes back into the apartment. “So?” She smiles as she looks between us. “What do you girls think?”

“I’m in!” Kayla announces.

Porsha smiles. “Great.” She turns her attention to me. “What about you, April?”

“Oh,” I pause. I really want the money, but… God. “I don’t think I—”

“Why don’t you just try it for one night?” she cuts me off.

I stare at her, my mind a clusterfuck of confusion.

“Five thousand pounds for one night. It’s worth a try.” She smiles.

My eyes flicker between the two of them, and Kayla nods in excitement.

Five thousand would get me out of the dorm, if even for a few months.

Oh, fuck it.

“Okay, one night,” I agree.

Porsha’s grin widens. “Fantastic. We start your training tomorrow.”

I close my eyes.

What the fuck did I just agree to?




I walk into the restaurant at exactly 7:00 a.m. Spencer and Masters are already seated at our usual table in the back. These breakfast meet-ups are all we seem to be able to squeeze in these days.

Time with my two best friends is precious.

Julian Masters and Spencer Jones.

We’ve been close since childhood. They’re the brothers I never had.

Julian has children, and now a wife, so all his spare time is taken up, and Spencer is newly married to his wife Charlotte who is pregnant. He needs these breakfasts with us to survive. She’s busting his balls and it’s hilarious.

“Hey.” I smile as I fall into my seat.

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