Austin, Texas and a meeting with a randy oilman

You wake to your cell alarm at 9 am, stretch and climb out of bed. Then wander to the closet yawning and open the door. On the floor are your gym bag, the blue suitcase, and the three wrapped outfits hanging in the back. You notice each is labeled with either an A, B, or C. You grab outfit A, lay it on the bed, and rip the wrapper off. On the hanger is a mid-thigh pleated black skirt with a vinyl looking, thin, bright red belt and a white, deep v-neck crop top.

"Whore look achievement earned," you laugh. "Could be worse."

You lift the suitcase onto the bed and open it. It is divided into three compartments also labeled with the three letters. You unzip A and see a crimson vinyl looking clutch, crimson open-toed stiletto heels, a lace pair of red thong panties, and a pair of retro-looking purple-tinted sunglasses. You shake your head at his strange fashion sense and head back to the bathroom.

By 10 am, you've finished your shower and are getting dressed when your cell rings. You walk out to the living room, grab it, and put it on the toilet seat.

"Siri, answer and put on speaker." You wait until you hear the answering beep, "Hello?".

You go back to working on your hair as you hear a woman's voice. You're trying to get it straight as possible with a bit of a wave in the bottom third.

"Hello? Ms, Stewart?"

"This is she."

"I'm Jennifer Perkins with your 10 am wake up call."

"I'm awake. Is there anything we need to discuss?"

"Just a few odds and ends dear. You have the clothing?"

"Yes I do, Jennifer and I think the shoes are a transparent attempt to get me to break my neck on the way to his office so he doesn't have to pay."

You hear a giggle before she answers, "The client has interesting taste in clothing."

"I noticed. The meeting is at his office I assume?"

"Yes, he owns the whole building but rents everything but the top floor his business uses out."

"Ok. I'll wear my flats there and then put the heels on. That way if I bust my ass walking, his insurance can pay for it."

"My you woke up in a mood, Simone."

"Not really. Just baffled by the way men think as usual I guess. So during this initial meeting, I'm supposed to negotiate with him? This isn't something I've ever done before."

Jennifer sighs, "Negotiate is such a strong word. In a nutshell, he'll tell you what he thinks you've agreed to do. He'll likely say something you disagree with and you'll work out a compromise or he pays to fly you home. The contract specifies 48 hrs, oral, and vaginal like in the video. The only card he walks into the meeting with is money."

"Sounds like the only thing I lose if this doesn't happen is my time."

She replies carefully, "I don't know what your contract with FireBox says but assuming no special language, that's right. He's trying to buy a fantasy of some sort. I don't know him so I can't tell you what it is but all our clients come down to that. According to the system logs, he watched your casting video four times since it came out. You should be in the driver's seat here but he's a rich, powerful man who is used to getting what he wants."

"Should I be worried?" You ask hoping someone with knowledge of the business could make you feel a bit less nervous about the meeting.

"I don't think so. He's seen six ladies in four years and has never gotten less than a 'B' on the evaluation sheets. Two made repeat trips. You should be fine honey but if I were paying $5,000 I'd make sure you were exhausted at the end of those two days."

You laugh at the response. That was just what you needed.

"I think I'm in good enough shape to handle him. Maybe the old oilman should be worried about stamina!"

"That's the spirit," Jennifer giggles. "You've got this, girl."

"Thanks. When will the car be here?"

"They'll call ahead when they are ten minutes out. The meeting is set for 1 pm and the building is maybe a ten-minute drive in traffic."

"Ok, thanks!"

"Caio sweetie!" Jennifer says as she hangs up.

You tell the phone to disconnect and finish your hair, then grab the room phone and order a fruit plate and some juice. You eat and drink when it's delivered and then go back and do your makeup. When you are finally happy with that, you plop down on the couch and turn on Nat Geo. While watching, you transfer your things from your purse to the ugly red clutch you are supposed to take to the meeting. A nature documentary feels perfect to put you in the right frame of mind for this.

When you get the text at 12:30 that the car is on it's way, you slip your flats on and look yourself over in the mirror one last time. The short skirt leaves little to the imagination and the deep V on the shirt leaves the girls more on display than you are comfortable with especially since a bra wasn't included with the outfit. You tease your hair back a bit and study the reflection. Then you nod at the mirror feeling you're rocking the outfit better than you expected. You may look like a streetwalker but you look like one with class, you joke to yourself. Then you head down to the lobby carrying the bag in one hand and the heels in the other. You'll put the damn things on but only when you have to.

You just reach the lobby when you see a black two-door Toyota Supra pull in front of the building. It's probably the most expensive car you'd ever thought to take a ride in. A well-built man gets out of it and stands next to the passenger's door. You watch him play with his phone and feel your's vibrate. You pull it out and see the text you expected. After taking a moment to get your game face on, you stride across the lobby and walk through the automatic door.

The fellow looks up at you.

"Ms. Stewart?"

You nod, "That's me. I assume Mr. Beckett sent you to pick me up?"

He opens the car door, "Yes he did."

You climb in, put your stuff on the floor, and pull out your phone as he gets in the other side.

"Ten minutes tops to get there."

You nod, pop your right pod in your ear and listen to the music. You see him take a second to adjust the rearview mirror and you are pretty sure he's just trying to get a good look down your shirt but you decide to ignore it. Guys are just like that, you think. Then you put the purple glasses on and watch the scenery fly by the window as you're driven to your destination.

The car pulls in front of a large multistory building in the downtown area about ten minutes later. It's at least fifteen stories, maybe more. The front looks like it's made of dark tinted glass since all you see are windows from the sidewalk to the sky. You grab your things off the floor and let yourself out. As the driver gets out, you take a second to calm yourself. You're uncertain if that's dread you feel in the pit of your stomach or just run of the mill nervousness. Either way, it's time to get this started and you wish it'd go away.

"Follow me," the driver says as he walks in

The sliding door opens before either of you make it inside, and you look around the lobby. The high ceiling reaches up at least two floors you'd guess, perhaps even three. There is a large counter in the center against the far wall between two staircases leading up and the floor tiling appears to be a checkerboard of black and white glossy stone slabs. The few actual wall sections visible look like they are at least surfaced with a glossy black stone similar to the floor.

Your guide nods at you as he leads you to an elevator door on the right. The inside has silver metal walls, a wooden rail along the interior, and a gold panel next to the entrance with a keypad but no display. The driver hits a few keys on the pad and the elevator begins to rise. You take the moment to kick off your flats and put the heels on, then grabbing the handhold for support collect up your shoes. It doesn't take long for the lift to stop and the door opens.

You follow the man down the white linoleum hallway to the far door. You silently curse the heels, the floor is a bit slippery like it'd been waxed in the last couple of days and is a trial to keep your balance on. If there really is a cabal of evil men running the world, they surely invented heels. The man then opens the door and lets you lead the way.

The room is fairly big as offices go. Your guess would be 16 x 16 thankfully covered in brown carpeting designed for desk chairs to roll on. The bottom half of the walls are covered in wood paneling and the top half is painted gray with oil paintings of famous Texas scenery. There are a cluster of chairs in two rows to your immediate right.

You can also see three doors, one on the far wall and two to your right. The left wall looks totally made of tinted glass and offers an excellent view of the city. The far door has a gold nameplate that says "Beckett", so you guess you'll be in there soon. In front of that door, there is an enormous wooden desk with a young Asian woman sitting there looking at you. She has a purple silk blouse on and looks around 30 you would guess. Without a word, the driver slips back out the door leaving the two of you alone.

She looks up and addresses you, "Ms. Stewart?"

"Yes, I am she."

"Well, I see Mr. Beckett was in the mood for a change," she says as she looks you up and down. "He isn't usually into white girls."

You just nod, not wanting to say anything. The lady sounds cold and aloof but not exactly hostile. You would prefer not to press your luck. If she's Beckett's secretary, pissing her off could be bad for business. She continues.

"I'm Sue Lin but Sue is fine. After you and Charles finish your meeting, I'll be here long enough to show you how to handle the phones and such, then I'll leave you two be."

"Hello, Sue. My name is Simone," You offer trying to sound friendly but not too warm. You really have no idea where this woman fits in the pecking order.

"Simone is a pretty name," she offers. "It feels a bit weird since you don't have a French accent though."

Sue picks up the phone.

"Charles your 1 o'clock is here."

The speaker bursts to life and you hear a deep male voice.

"Good and five minutes early. Send her in, we have business to discuss."

"Yes, Sir."

She puts the phone down.

"As you heard, Mr. Beckett will see you now. Good luck," she says without much emotion and hits a button on the phone.

You hear a buzz from the door behind her and it slowly swings open. Then you take a deep breath, make sure you feel steady in the heels, and walk in. It's showtime, you think as the door slowly closes itself behind you.