The Gorgeous Stranger

VENESSA'S POV

I have been waiting for an hour and half for my best friend since I arrived in this opulent club at seven. How can she be late by two hours? It's frustrating having to sit alone for hours, staring at the counter in front of me because I cannot afford any of the wines available. 

I discreetly pull out my cheap phone and dial her number. She doesn't pick the call even after I have called several times. I have never felt more alone at a troubling moment. 

Perhaps I should use the little money I have left to drown my sorrows. It's not like it's going to be of much help against the huge dept I am going to have. A single bottle seems to cost all my savings. And it's not the most expensive.

I hesitantly ask the waiter for a bottle of Riesling. He takes it from the counter and pours some into a glass before setting both down on the table in front of me with a sweet smile. I keep a straight face as I do not want anyone noticing that I do not belong to this class of people.

The women are in designer dresses that could cost my entire little fortune. The men are in deluxe suits, mostly made of fine silk. Their arrogant demeanors makes them look unapproachable. Not that I would try.

I drink the first glass of the expensive wine. It tastes quite good, almost worth the fortune I am going to pay for it. Hopefully it will mess with my brain enough to make me feel like I have taken a break from my devastating life. I am already feeling detached from the horrors that brought me here.

I feel a pair of eyes on me a few seconds before a deep, flattering voice whispers something from behind. 

"What beautiful fate should we thank for dragging a woman like you here?" the voice is so close that I feel the lulling warmth of the stranger's breath against the skin of my neck.

I look up from my drink and my lips instinctively part. I am awestruck! I think an angel is staring down at me, and I am thoughtlessly gaping at his magnificent face.

His steely eyes has a gaze that can cut through metal, poetically of course. It however can slice one's confidence into micro-confidences. I blame my drunk state for having the guts to keep staring.

Because his smooth face holds irresistible beauty, that causing my lower abdomen to throb in sinful ways.

His designer suit hugs his muscular physique perfectly, emphasizing every curve. There are three uniquely designed, golden rings on his left hand and another two on the right one. The unusual, exquisite jewellery is the only thing in this classic bar that can compete with the beauty of his face. I have never seen a man wearing so many rings before. Neither have I seen one favoured by God this much.

This is an elite bar, so every man is present is filthy rich. Except that . . . someone who looks this breathtaking must be an escort. A male supermodel who rich women hire to accompany them to places like this.

If I were thinking right, I would keep my drunk mouth shut, but my mind just chose this moment to take a vacation.

"Oh . . . my . . . my! You must be the most insanely beautiful living creature I have ever seen!" I mutter like an enamoured fan. 

A smirk curves on his luscious lips, the kind that makes your intestines churn.

"Does that mean I am welcome to sit with you?" he asks. 

"No. I do not have enough to pay for your pricey services," I say.

He chuckles as if I have made joke. "What do you think I am?" he asks.

"An escort," I answer. 

The job is nothing to be embarassed about. I have heard that the beautiful ones like him make a fortune. I would love to have his company if only I could afford it. There cannot be a better man to end this reckless night with. He has a thousand times my husband's handsomeness. And that jerk has been cheating on me for I do not know how long.

"I would be furious if someone else called me that," the stunning stranger says.

So he isn't an escort. 

"Who are you?" 

"Oren Weiss," he answers as if the name alone is supposed to mean something. "I just returned to the city."

I nod. Not that I know the members of this city's elite society, so no need for me to act like I could recognise his name.

"My name is Venessa," I supply even though he never asked. 

"You do not look like a regular customer of this place, so I am guessing that there is a fool that stood you up," he says.

He isn't wrong. My husband destroyed my life and my best friend stood me up. 

"I was waiting for a friend who no longer seems to be coming," I answer honestly.

"Would your friend have bought you a proper drink?" he asks.

I had no idea I wasn't having a proper one. He doesn't wait for my response as he only looks in the direction of the bar's counter and two waiters scrumble towards us. They bow their heads in front of him like he is some kind of mysterious king. 

"What can we get you sir?" one asks in the most obedient of tones.

I am utterly surprised.when he orders two bottles of the most expensive wine. I single one costs twice the fortunes of my family and our forefathers combined. Yet this gorgeous man just ordered two. The waiters doesn't even question his orders before rushing to get the bottles of wine. 

Judging from their reactions I have a feeling that he isn't just a regular city millionaire. 

He takes the seat beside me as the drinks arrive. I am not sure he is wearing some kind of faint cologne or its his body odour that smells so alluring. I am way below his class, but I wish that my selfish husband was here to see us. I guess he would be jealous.

The man stares straight into my eyes while smiling in a manner that I find amorous.

"So, if I were an escort, would you hire me?" he asks. 

"I am not the type to sleep with strangers. But I just found out that my husband made me take a loan to fund his luxurious vacation with another woman. So I am feel extremely vengeful. I am afraid that I might kill him if I do not indulge in other reckless ways to calm my mind," I answer.

A smile curves on his lips, as if he is impressed and not shocked like I had expected him to be. 

"Perhaps you should kill him. You would be doing the world a favour, trust me. I will gladly testify that it was a case of self defense if you poison his food" he says and I laugh for the first time in many days. 

"I would be honoured to help you overcome your pain if you let me be your escort tonight. I promise to be everything that your selfish husband will never be," he swears. 

I take several sips of the exquisite wine that he ordered as he patiently waits for my answer.

I cannot believe I am having this conversation with a complete stranger. Just a few hours ago I was sure that I was in full control of my present and future and it didn't involve strangers. But that ended as soon as I saw those pictures of my husband and knew how badly I had gotten played. That my life was now like a twirling tornado that is bound to have a crushing end.

I want to at least enjoy this night to the maximum. Everything is already at it's worst and none of it is my fault. I want to be reckless tonight too.

"As long as you're paying for our drinks you can be my romantic escort," I finally agree. "Though I wonder why you would choose me above all elegant women in this bar," I add. 

"You're unique in ways they are not. Your character is genuine and quite likable. Not to mention that none has eyes as entrancing as yours, no doubt they are a reflection of your kind heart, a rare thing in places like this," he answers.

I do have a foolish heart that made me love blindly. I didn't carry it here tonight, that's why I am going to sleep with a gorgeous, rich stranger for the fun of it. 

"I am glad you find such attractive traits in me," I say genuinely. I can't remember the last time I received a compliment from my husband. He almost convinced me that I had nothing worthy of admiration. "This bar has private rooms?" I ask my beautiful escort. 

His smile is breathtaking as he answers, "Yes, but not the best. If you let me I will take you to a place worth your presence. It's only a ten minutes drive."

I am ready to go with him. In fact we can go to Mars and I wouldn't miss this treacherous world.