Nadia's Little Black Book

Sunlight poured into the grimy, frosted over El windows, falling in neat lines across the floor and the laps of passengers. One such ray of light gently came to settle squarely on the upper body of a tall young woman, illuminating the reddish highlights in her luxurious auburn locks. She looked up, irritated, but there was no one to rebut her anger but the sun itself, and she’d long since given up on chasing pots of gold at the end of rainbows. Her long, slender fingers were clenched rather tensely around a little black leather notebook; its edges frayed and spine battered. The woman’s name was Nadia, and her life would prove to be more interesting than most.

She got off the train a few stops later, her pace ruthless and unyielding as she stalked down cracked sidewalks and cut off Ubers. There’s a certain way of walking in Chicago that determines single-handedly the locality of the character. Nadia walked like a true Chicago native; solid, grounding footsteps that resounded off the pavement with an authoritarian thud.

She swept into a small, overcrowded cafe, rummaging through her bag with one hand while the other still held tight to both her phone and that little book. The short haired barista twisting knobs on the espresso machine gave her a casual nod, and began to prepare a fresh pitcher of coconut milk for her regular latte order. She took a few more moments to pull out her debit card and swipe it through the reader, and then put it neatly away before taking a pump of hand sanitizer and stepping off to the side to wait. Instead of scrolling mindlessly through Instagram or Twitter like she instinctually itched to; she unwound the elastic cord around her little black book and began flipping through it, spending minutes reading some pages and skipping others entirely. What no one else in the cafe really saw were the contact names and descriptions she was flipping through- all men, all in prominent positions of wealth, status or power in their places in the community. Almost all over 45, most of whom were fairly easy on the eyes, but there were a few unsavory faces in there Nadia longed to forget. But still, she made it her mission every day to pick a few unlucky bastards to swindle. Because that’s all escort services really are, when it comes right down to it- a scam on rich old white men who insist on living differently from everyone else.

Head buried in her list of names and jobs and faces, Nadia waved a thank you to the barista and took her leave. She liked to spend her leisure time in between appointments walking along the scenic downtown streets- Michigan Ave, E Randolph Street, W Monroe... there was something so assuring about being surrounded by the rich, elite, and the tourists. So, knowing her first client wouldn’t be free until lunchtime or later, she made way for her favorite shops- Burberry, UNIQLO, and her favorite- Teranz Boutique. Her latest commission was burning a hole in her pocket, and she did need a new fur-lined coat…

A few purchases later, Nadia was feeling more like her normal self. She appreciated her little routines; even savored them. Today was Tuesday, and Tuesdays meant Devin time. She quickened her pace from the south end of Michigan Ave- her clients were always so cranky when she was late.

Entering the tall, marbled building through its smaller, less conspicuous side door, she gave a brief nod to the man behind the front desk before striding briskly through the doors to the elevators. If she was careful, sometime she could go for hours without remembering the societal impression of and stigma around her profession. It was during those times that she felt most free; most open and receptive, but also acknowledged and seen. So much of her life encouraged isolation, so any external interaction soon felt magnified.

She was still musing on her lack of social life when the elevator chimed. Fifteen stories up; and it felt like an entirely different planet up here. Floor to ceiling windows gleamed and glittered under the sun’s inspection, illuminating any shiny surface (and you can bet there were a lot of them) in the lobby. Devin’s secretary, a fresh-faced college grad named Jason, was stammering into a headset as she approached. His eyes widened fractionally as he recognized her, and he hastily typed a message out on his keyboard before giving her an altogether too-knowing smile. “He’s ready for you in his office today,” he nearly crooned, oblivious to Nadia’s stony expression of professionalism. She strode right on past him to the office doors, knocking twice before letting herself in and locking the door behind her.

Her appointments were always the same. Smile, bat the eyelashes; small talk to put them at ease in the midst of their chaotic corporate careers. From there it was just a leg cross, hair toss and one lip bite away from becoming physical. Devin wasn’t wasting any time today; his thick, oaf-like fingers were groping along her thigh within the first few minutes of their conversation. She often found herself resisting the inclination to giggle during some appointments- sometimes the privilege seeping out of her clients’ pores was hilarious to her and she’d have to stifle an exhilarated cackle as they kiss lines down from her neck. He pulled away, face flushed, suddenly self-aware. She felt herself deflate slightly, felt the adrenaline recede from her veins. “Sorry if I seem a little too impatient today, baby, but I’ve got a regional department meeting in an hour and no other time today to myself-” he ran his hand over his rugged, grim features. “-any time spent with you is a gift I cherish wholeheartedly,” she interrupted, her tone low and soothing. She would’ve gone on, too, (talking men up was one of her specialties) but his lust was anything but satiated, and he began devouring her breasts in a surprisingly tedious manner.

Three quarters of an hour later, Nadia was wiping her smudged lipstick off in the window’s reflection, the cityscape laid out like a map at her feet. Devin stood behind his desk, looping his belt through his slacks and looking more and more like the lonely, desperate ego-maniac she thought him to be. The strange period of time immediately following the sex was a luxurious sort of limbo- his vulnerability lingering heavily throughout the office, her glowing skin suffused with ease and authority that was so poignant that even he had trouble holding her gaze. She left the building the same way she came in- only her purse was about $10k heavier.

The air was just beginning to turn crisp, hinting at autumn by sending rippling breezes through the buildings and streets of Chicago. Nadia set off in the direction of her favorite bar in River North for a cocktail and some time alone with her thoughts before her dreaded monthly appointment with Greg Williams, the CFO of US Bank’s Chicago branch. He was an oily-haired, traditional businessman with a penchant for belittling and degrading the people around him in a way that always left her seeing red.

She laid claim to a lone stool at the bar and ordered a martini double absentmindedly. She allowed herself to daydream sometimes, when she was feeling particularly outcasted. She’d long been dreaming of giving up her lifestyle to go to college, pursue a business degree or maybe even go into marketing- she imagined a life where she could share her life with family and friends, talk about her job openly- a life that didn’t require faking any orgasms.

She continued to frown into her glass, her thoughts far away from reality- when a high-heeled clacking sound came to a halt right next to her. A beautiful Asian woman with a high-necked black cocktail dress and deep red lipstick sat down in the chair on her right, her dress riding up to reveal a smooth, athletic thigh. Nadia sighed and took a long sip of her drink, wondering idly if she should rejoin one the few dating apps she’d once been active on.

“I hate to ask, but… rough night?” The woman said. Nadia turned and assessed her more clearly: she had dark, glittering eyes and an inimitable air of affluence. But the smile gracing her cheeks was warm and genuine, if a little mocking. Nadia felt herself flush slightly, and then caught herself fidgeting with the olives in her drink. “Not much rougher than any other night. That’s the problem, though.” At her uncomprehending pause, she added, “Do you ever notice yourself so far gone in your work that you’ve forgotten how to enjoy life?”

The question hung there as shock pounded through Nadia’s eardrums. She’d never been caught letting her guard down like this before- and so quickly! But then something amazing happened: the woman threw her head back and gave a short, loud peal of laughter, her expression stuck in one of incredulity. She beamed at Nadia’s absolute befuddlement.

“I’m sad to say, I know exactly what you mean. I was actually just thinking about it earlier- there was a time in my life where I had furrowed so deeply into this false narrative that I lost all sense of joy or contentment. It was a vicious cycle for a while, but eventually I managed to claw myself out of those depths and build a name for myself that I could be proud of.” As she spoke, Nadia felt some previously unidentified tension leave her body; her shoulders rolled back and she found herself smiling. “In that case, would you mind sharing your secret?”

A few too many rounds of drinks later, Nadia and Chloe (her name was Chloe) were laughing into each other, inhibitions lowered and judgement severely impaired. It’s for that very reason that Nadia didn’t first realize the time when she sat looking at her phone screen. A full thirty seconds later, the pressure in her head bottomed out as she realized how late she was.

“Shit!” She exclaimed, standing straight up from her barstool. Chloe grabbed her arm; then seemed to think better of it, and quickly relinquished her grip. But Nadia needed the support, she soon realized, and found herself reaching for Chloe’s extended arm for balance. Pages from the little black book flipped through her mind, landing on Greg. Greg. He would be mightily displeased if she was any later for their appointment, and she was already about fifteen minutes behind schedule. She cashed out her tab and tried to ignore the sinking feeling that she was never going to see Chloe again.

She left the bar without looking back, because she knew that if she lingered too long on the things she couldn’t have, she’d lose sight of what was real. She moved robotically; her gestures and expressions convincing, but insincere. If Greg noticed anything different about her, he didn’t say anything. It wasn’t until she was gathering her things to go when she realized her second mistake of the day- her little black book was nowhere to be seen. She tore his office apart, but the sinking feeling in her stomach was right- she must’ve left it at the bar with Chloe.

Hurrying back the way she came, Nadia’s mind whirled with dark thoughts. She was sick of the monotony of her life, the unfulfilling relationships and persistent reek of desperate men. So when her eyes landed on Chloe’s slim form leaning against the wall outside the bar, she felt only a rush of gratitude.

Chloe’s words were prepared. “Do you want $20,000 to go to school and get a business degree?” Nadia’s head spun. Thinking it was at the sum, Chloe pushed herself off the wall, closer to Nadia, her hands clutching the little black book gingerly. “Or how about…. half a million?”