What You Envision

She stared at the photo on the wall. She missed her mother and her stories of sorted men, She had been smart. No man had extracted a fee from her, Sara had been a child of love but not containment. Her father could never understand why his love would need to sleep with other men. Sara gazed in awe at the shapely figure in the photo. Her mother always wore a wig when she worked. She worried that someone from the other side of her life would recognize her. Sundays she prayed with the rest of them. She was a creature of God, even if most of God's followers would have her rot in hell.

Sara never questioned her mother when she returned to the apartment at 6 or 7 am. She always listened for the clip-clop of her mother's stiletto heals In ancient times, her mother would have been a courtesan, a role to be prized and admired.

Sara slipped on her tight shirt and short skirt. she knew her job was not prized except by the men who paid her. Her mother had worn sleek black nylons. These days all the glitz was not necessary. She thought of the dirty rooms where the strippers would take their fares. Her mother had taught her to be a lady of class. If a man could afford her time he could afford a clean room and a glass of wine.

Tonight her time was reserved. Just two men. Not together of course. One for dinner, another for a nightcap.

George was an average middle-aged man. When they went out all these family people would say hello. She always wondered what she told them.

Tonight it was Legal Seafood. He was waiting for her when she got there, He smiled, giving her a kiss on the cheek. " Oh, you wore the red lipstick I like" She returned the kiss on his cheek, leaving a print of her lips. He blushed, but she knew he loved it. They were regulars. The waitress knew their drinks. They slid into their seats,

Suburbia- the childhood she often imagined. No arguments, a big lawn, a white picket fence. She could never figure out how she fits into his life, No sex tonight. There often wasn't. He slipped the bills into her hand, as he left. Twenty for the waitress and 300 for her. Her childhood friend might not have understood but it made sense to her, Sometimes she felt sad that when she told Joanna what she was doing, Joanna had dropped Sara as a friend. Sara had been so proud, but Joanna saw absolutely nothing to admire,

Tonight, two hundred dollars were deposited into the atm, and 100 into her clutch.

Her second date would be in a dark bar, with no hint of suburbia. No transvestites but no choir girls either, The hundred dollars was in case things went wrong,

She walked down the dark alley. She saw him at the door of the hidden club, They knocked and a tall black man let them in, It was a discreet place to meet. Only known by word of mouth, She felt a tingle down her spine. She liked looking at this young man, He was in his twenties. He was blunt. He wanted sex with someone who was attractive, knew what they were doing, and knew what to say. No school girl blushes, or oh no you are going too fast.

Every time was different. She took the cue from their conversation as they drank. He wasn't angry tonight. In fact, she was feeling as if he loved her. She bit her lip. She found herself wanting to disappear with him upstairs, She asked the waiter if they could take their drinks upstairs, She had a feeling that this would be a romantic night.

It was not a ten-minute room. It was an all-night room. But romantic this was a new territory

Soft and gentle, interrupted by a loud pop. Sara jumped loosening her hold on him. He froze, He place his hand over her mouth and pulled her onto the floor beside the bed.

There was another pop outside their door. Sara knew it had to be a gun. They heard a lady scream, Sara panicked and quickly threw on her clothes, He quickly followed her out the door. Neither of them still felt romantic, She reached inside her shirt pocket and felt bills. Neither of them wanted to be a cop's witness, so they each left and went their own ways. Although her adrenalin was racing, she was eager to see how much money she had made, She smiled, five hundred dollars, she made her way to the atm.

She knew she would no longer be able to return to that club. The unknown place would be all over tomorrow's news. Maybe it was good their romantic tryst had been interrupted. She might have found it difficult not to blur the line,

There had been a piece of paper with the money, Two weeks from now, they were going to a holiday concert.

She smiled and looked for someplace to go where she wouldn't be known. In the background. she heard the sirens, but she was just another person in the crowd of the city.

Her mother had left her a small house on long island. Sara did not listen to the news when she got home. She went and sat on her porch. She made an espresso. She listened to the crickets. She wanted to curl up and sleep on the porch. Tomorrow she would face the reality that there had been a shooting.

She didn't go to any of the churches in the area. She had a group on the internet that she had joined. She could have prayed for the people shot last night, but she knew she wouldn't. She hoped nobody was dead. She drank espresso and asked Alexa for the local news. She held her breath hoping it was not someone she knew.

It had been a young man, an up-and-coming politician. The shooter was also a young man. Nobody was dead, and the shooter had been apprehended, they would not need to question witnesses. She had no reason for feeling guilty for not being a good citizen. Her client would be relieved. She wondered if he had listened to the news.

Today she felt the boredom she often felt at home. She looked up the crime on the computer. She researched the victim and the shooter,

Work - she felt a little nervous about going back to work. Tonight-one date-dinner and drinks and a walk in a garden. After that. it was his choice. He liked things casual prep. Tonight she was a suburban housewife. They met at the library. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. The typical tennis ma. He was wearing khakis and a polo shirt. She played the role, took his hand. and gave him a kiss. He slipped his arm around her and thier date began,

The meal- Italian- in a closed lit private room. He always insists that they get a bottle of red wine. Tonight it was a bottle of red wine distilled in a bourbon barrel. She had to admit it was good.

Tonight's dinner got interrupted by a phone call. The waiter brought the phone over to the table. She was surprised, Who would he have told they were here? Why not give his cell number? He told her they had a change of plans. They were going to meet someone at the gardens.

Sara felt a desire to end the evening, but he assured her it was nothing, just a work thing,

The gardens were empty- they were always deserted at this time of night. There were spotlights on the flowers. She looked for the other man. Her date had her sit on a bench, and he disappeared behind some hedges. Moments later both men appeared. Her client was holding a briefcase. The other man looked familiar. She couldn't place him, but she did her best to look disinterested.

No walk tonight, just a quick trip to a nearby hotel. She knew this was not going to be a good night. The briefcase was locked in the hotel safe. He was nervous. Not quite a wham bam thank you mam, but not much better. He left right after completing the act.

He had left 600 dollars in her handbag. He also left the key to the room. The hotel had a pool and a sauna, but the first thing she wanted to do was take a shower, There had been no emotional connection at all. At least it was a nice hotel. A bathrobe for each partner, and of course an unopened bottle of red wine, She sat on the porch after cleaning off the filth, in her bathrobe drinking the red wine. Six hundred dollars but the best thing was that he was gone and the date was over.

The next morning she awoke early and bought a swimsuit in the gift shop. She did two or three laps and sat in the hot tub. She checked out of the hotel at 10;20. Perfect timing.

She loved hotel breakfasts Expensive, but twenty dollars was not going to sink her. Eggs bennidict and a mimosa. Good girls deserve to play. She double-checked the cash, no note, A discarded New York lay on the table next to her, She grabbed it and read as she ate.

Bill Bennet was the victim. He was having a date night with his wife. The shooter Richard Ward seemed stable. He was not a resident of a psyhc. ward. The paper seemed to say anything but why, why had he been shot.

Leaving the hotel she headed for the farmer's market. Then she remembered that it was closed. But there was a fish market around the corner, The shop was perfect shrimps, scallops, crab cakes. She was going to have shrimp scampi for lunch. They had a recipe in the store. She rushed home.

Wham bam, thank you mam. She wondered if he would call her again. She was enjoying the benefits,

She sat on her porch in the cool breeze, eating the shrimp scampi. Her laptop was in her lap. The shooter's sister was a Beachbody coach. Judy Ward, she was on Facebook. She had a link to ask her about Beachbody. Sara should have enough money to pay for four months of Beachbody, Moments later she heard the pitch. She knew if she wanted to learn about Judy she would need to tell her about herself. She signed up for Beachbody on Demand, and gave Sara a quick vague summary. She lived in a small house on Long Island. Her parents had passed leaving her a trust. Sara made herself feel like a saint. Judy Ward was determined to find Sara a boyfriend. There were several young single men in the exercise group. She told Sara to sign onto the app. Sara signed on and looked at the names in the group. No Richard Ward. She read through all Judy's posts, there was no mention of a brother. No griefing sister, Sara was wondering if she had the wrong Judy.

Saturday in a new outfit she sighed onto Zoom for the exercise group. She had thought her new outfit looked cute, but these women if they had been her competition, she would need to lower her rates. None of the men looked familiar. She wasn't sure what she was looking for but she felt like something was not right.

She dressed for dinner with George. Their same waitress. She greeted them both by name. Something was different, He ordered a carafe of orange juice and a bottle of champagne, We were going to make mimosas. Minutes after they arrived the meal came. They each had a oyster salad and a lobster. Sara giggled this was fun, He leaned over and kissed her "I got a raise. He high-fived her. I also got a new job. I'll spend some time in DC and some in New York, I won't be here every Saturday. not reliable George anymore,

Sara couldn't help but be happy., She would no longer be his routine, but he seemed so forfilled. After dinner they did not go to a hotel. Instead they walked over to his favoritr clothes store. The window we always looked into. He bought a sports coat and five shirts, Then he had the sales girl get a bag she had in the back. He handed it to Sara "To wear the nezt time you go out with me," He gave her a kiss and told her to check the pockets.

She reached into her clutch to get her bus pass and found two hundred dollars, He has said to look in the pockets, the jacket in the bag had 1000 dollars pinned to it. It also had a pair of jeans and a Dixie Chicks tee shirt.

.There was a note. In two weeks we will go to a concert. Being a creature of habit I went and deposited 1000 into the ATM. I was excited. I couldn't wait to see the Dixie Chicks.

She did her workout before signing in for church, She was still wearing her workout clothes, Sue commented to her " It looks like you've been working out" "I joined Beachbody. I don't know if I'll ever look like those women but I am enjoying it," "It is a cute outfit" "Thanks it was a gift to myself." She felt good that Sue had commented to hee

Monday morning espresso - no rain, sitting out on the porch. A quick workout followed by a shower. It was nine am. no rain, a perfect day to go for a walk and take pictures, She wished she could sell her photos instead of adding more clients. It took time to build each connection. She could not sleep with just anyone. The rain stayed away and she worked on her photos,

Sunday the day of the holiday concert. She usually met people at the library. He was already there when she got there. She gave him a kiss, and he took her arm. He was nervous, he wanted to talk before they went to the concert. Sara was a good listener. She knew how to smile in all situations. They went to a diner down the street. She ate a Brisket sandwich and he talked. His hands were shaking slightly. She put down her sandwich and held his hand. He had checked the paper after their last date. The shooter was my last girlfriend's brother. She broke it off with me. There was no reason he should have come after me but the coincidence has me shaken. Should I share it with the police? I know you don't want to be involved,

Sara shifted uneasily. She said nothing about joining Beachbody. "Tell them you had a blind date and she had too much to drink and wanted to sleep it off. It should be alright." He changed the topic. "It's just a local performance. A friend of mine is one of the dancers, He wanted to meet you. He is Gay but needs a female escort to a lot of functions. Sara smiled no more wham bam thank you mam, and some money, She kissed him on the cheek and went to pay the bill, but he beat her to it.

The concert was two hours of pure delight. Sara was smiling when they went backstage to meet the man. He was on cloud nine. He had gotten a standing ovation, He gave both of them a hug. He gave her an autograph and on it was a calendar. She told him this would be perfect. It did not conflict with her Dixie Chick concert,

her currant date wanted to go for a drink. He was full of mindless chitter chatter, but she felt happy. It was beginning to feel like a real date, a performance. and drinks. he gave her a kiss on the lips. He held her hands and said" It has been a great night. This was fun. Maybe next time we can go to another show. She smiled. "Sure, she replied "That would be great." Then he said something that surprised her. " I was a little shaken by the shooting, lets go a few dates without taking our clothes off. just to make sure we are not being followed" She smiled an honest smile. He kissed her sweetly on the lips, He paid for the drinks, paid the barmaid 20 dollars, and gave Anna three hundred. She gave him a kiss pushing up against him. He put his arm around her waist and kissed her again, And then suddenly they were both heading separate ways,

She did not go to the ATM. She went home and filled out her calendar.

She felt a little uncomfortable about the fact that she had contacted Judy. she had possibility put herself in the middle of a conflict, but she was glad she was working out. She sent Judy a message, "Do you know Ray? He told me about you. He seems like a nice guy. He is a nice guy, right? The return message finally came. "He's a nice guy. We went out. Nothing terrible about him except he seemed more in love with a call girl than me. he paid her 1000 dollars a week for a date. He did not want to give me his heart. But he was honest with me and told me about her. Hopefully. you are just casual friends because he won't give her up. it was nice of him to refer me to you." Anna was getting more and more caged in by her lies,

It didn't sound like Ray was the target. He didn't get her pregnant. He just didn't love her. She was slightly stunned. Was he in love with her? It was a strange idea that a man could love her. Through all the facade had he ever seen her. Did she even see herself? For a partner, did she have any idea what she wanted? What if she showed up for a date in clothes that she liked, laughed at jokes she thought were funny, did not let the man decide the events for the evening. She was paid to be what they wanted..

What would Judy have thought if Sara had told her that she was the call girl?

John the man with the briefcase who had made her feel so cheap found her one day at the library. She was surprised to see him. He had the briefcase, it appeared that he had been looking for her. He suggested that they go get a hamburger. Halfway through the meal he placed the briefcase on the table and opened it. It was full of black and white photos. Some of her and some of her clients, even pictures of him with her, "Was someone blackmailing you?" she asked "No we were just researching one of your clients" She choked on her burger, "None of your clients appear to be working together." "Together on what?" Maybe the shooter's bullet had been meant for John" She knew she was failing. Failing to be a molded woman for him. He paid her bill. Explained that he had an expense allowance of three hundred tonight, and asked her if she would like it. She calmly thanked him and took the money,

She needed to work out. The workout was easy tonight but she still felt stressed. Her life was filling with disorder and confusion. She was looking forward to tomorrow night. She would be escorting the Gay man who had failed to give her his name. She checked his autograph, Brice Walton, tomorrow they would meet at 7 pm. She was going to dress as if it was a stilletos night. Not quite as glitzy as her mother would dress, but drinks and the symphony, and then an after-party,

He wasn't wearing a suit but he looked sharp. A lot of bright colors, his outfit was designed by an artist friend. He knew most of the people in the symphony. They knew of his sexual preference, but all the couples at the party would be listed in the paper. His parents still denied it The press might even take pictures of them. The elite couples.

The night went well. He paid for all the entertainment. She always enjoyed classical music, and he was a great conversationalist. She looked at the young ladies' outfits. She was getting a better sense of what she should be wearing. She looked better than some but not all. She asked him if the artist he was wearing made ladies' clothes. He said yes, and wrote down the website, At the end of the night he gave her a ride home, as she went to get out of the car he slipped 200 dollars into her hand. She thanked him honestly feeling gratitude.

She checked out the website. It had a link where she could sell her photos. She saw the clothes that Brice had been wearing. The matching female outfit was more expensive than the two hundred she had just earned.

She had money in savings, but she didn't want to spend it her life was changing.