The Escort – Chapter 2

A/N: My apologies for the delay. I wasn't happy with this chapter and I rewrote it. There are also some hints to two characters that Carolinagirl919 asked for. I'm still working out how they'll fit in this story, so I'm planning for the next chapter to be posted on January 1.

She liked it, Sameen Shaw thought as she toured Ian Murphy's apartment.

The stark black, gray and white décor appealed to her; simple and clean, it made no bones about the man who lived here, and how he looked at the world.

Murphy's official office catered to his clients – rich and plush and sensual and welcoming, like the fantasy he was selling to them.

His home told you what it was really all about; a transaction, with clear, hard, firm edges.

Shaw's admiration for Joss Carter went up another notch – somehow she had broken through to the 'companionator' and made a lifelong impression on him.

The tiny woman slid into his office and unloaded a large backpack full of food.

"Yeah", she chuckled as she sat down at Murphy's desk, booted up his system and keyed in a series of passwords.

After cajoling, whining, threats of physical violence, and as a last resort, dangling a Cronut* over his keyboard until he begged for mercy, Finch had given Shaw access to Murphy's employee files.

There were databases and reviews, training schedules and class descriptions, client profiles and reading lists.

And a detailed summary of each employee: physical description, wardrobe requirements, unusual talents, fears and phobias – Shaw got that; can't send a guy with a fear of heights to some rooftop gala – everything Murphy needed to be able to match the right employee with the right client.

Even Finch had reluctantly admired the pimp's attention to detail and organizational skills.

Murphy would be home in a few hours to get ready for his date with Joss Carter, but in the meantime –

"Ooooh, baby…" Shaw breathed in slowly as she opened a file titled 'Measurements'. She unwrapped a chili dog, took a huge bite and began to read.

XXX

She hated them all, Kara Stanton Snow thought as her sorority sisters began walking into the soaring atrium of the luxury hotel where their reunion was being held tonight.

Kara always volunteered to supervise the decorations; she was good at it, and it gave her an opportunity to get to the event early, observe her victims and decide who would be her next prey.

As each woman walked in, Kara recalled every slight, every insult and catty remark, every whisper and veiled aside, every snicker and cackle of laughter, every look of shocked concern or outright pity, every bracing speech or murmured platitude.

These women had made her life a living hell.

Except Joss.

Perhaps that was why Kara hated her most of all.

The daughter of a prominent and wealthy Virginia politician, Kara's path in life had been laid out at an early age - college, marriage to someone from a list of pre-approved candidates and giving birth to a son that would lead the family business for a set number of years and then when the time was decreed, ascend to national prominence via public office.

As a young girl, she had chafed against the unfairness of it, but by the time Kara attended the same college her mother did, joined the same sorority her mother did, and dated the men from that list of pre-approved candidates, she understood how the world really worked, how power and prestige almost always won out over effort and intelligence, and she willingly and often gleefully accepted her role in it.

Kara knew that she could step outside that role, say and do things that would give others pause and she would be protected, that there was a certain freedom in not being seen as the beacon light of the family, as long as she did what was expected.

By the time her senior year in college approached, Kara had her life in order: a regular spot on the Dean's list and a poor student who actually wrote her papers; a fiancé from the top of the pre-approved list and a lover who introduced her to a variety of unique pleasures; a generous allowance and the ability to skip out on financial obligations with the softly murmured words about who her father was.

Then it all fell apart.

Kara's father was caught in a devastatingly embarrassing scandal, photos splashed across every newspaper in America, each one more shocking and lurid than the rest, until he was forced to resign from his political post.

Then it was revealed that there was no money, that there hadn't been money for a long time, that her father had used that same power and prestige to maintain a façade that collapsed like a house of cards.

Overnight, Kara went from everything to nothing.

Her fiancé 'regretfully' broke off the engagement via a letter from an attorney, her friends deserted her and her lover proposed that she fulfill her financial obligations by entertaining some of his friends, doing things that even she blanched at.

Her mother sold her jewelry to pay for Kara's tuition and back straight, head held high, Kara got a job in the college cafeteria.

Working for her classmate and sorority sister.

"I'm sorry for what happened to your family," Joss said simply, then she showed Kara her first assignment.

It was a mountain of dirty pots and pans.

Joss quietly explained the process and left Kara alone to work.

Kara didn't have to speak to anyone, didn't have to worry about breaking anything and she could sink her hands in scalding hot water and scrub, and scrub, and scrub.

Alone, surrounded by steam and suds, Kara finally let the tears of rage and sorrow fall.

With everyone else, Kara had maintained control, giving back as good as she got, or freezing people out, but this little girl, who had nothing, came from nothing, was nothing, somehow understood her.

Joss knew what Kara needed.

Joss had made her feel.

And Kara hated her for it.

The MarKara co-CEO jerked her head around the room, suddenly smiling as her latest victim flushed angrily and avoided Kara's eyes as she walked by; after her encounter with Joss last weekend, Kara had seduced the woman's husband, and as she always did, arranged for them to be caught in the act.

Kara would calmly produce a series of lurid and embarrassing photos of the man and tell the hapless couple her price for them not to be released.

No divorce; they had to stay married, they had to attend every reunion, and, most importantly, they had to pretend to be a happy couple at the event.

Seeing their anguished misery under the guise of domestic harmony every year was like an aphrodisiac to Kara; she would even welcome her husband Mark into her bed willingly on those nights.

Signing off on the delivery of more flowers, Kara wondered who this special person was that Joss was bringing to the reunion.

Kara had attempted to seduce Joss' husband, Paul; in fact, she had tried more than once. He had rebuffed her each time, the last time even more galling because he and Joss were no longer married.

But now, she might get another chance.

Kara locked eyes with another one of her victims.

This reunion might be the best one of them all.

XXX

Ian Murphy realized he was whistling as the elevator climbed to his floor.

He chuckled. It had been a good day, and if all went well, an even better evening.

Joss Carter.

Joss, Joss, Joss, Joss Carter.

Ian didn't fool himself; as a young punk, he thought he'd have a chance with her, but he knew that their paths were different.

He wasn't a good man, but she had helped him do a good thing; save his son Alex.

Joss had helped Ian get Alex away from his drug addicted girlfriend, Dana.

He'd never forget how Joss brought them to her place, how she made a confused, frightened little boy smile and how Taylor, with a quiet understanding in his eyes, had handed Alex his cherished teddy bear, the two five year olds falling asleep in Taylor's bed, curled up together.

Joss had helped Ian place his son with a caring older couple; three weeks later, Dana died, burning to death in the same house that Ian and Joss had rescued Alex from.

Alex was now a healthy and happy college freshman, who over the years had enjoyed baseball games and fishing trips with a family friend who had known his mother.

No, he and Joss weren't meant for each other, but they could enjoy some time together.

He didn't have to pretend with her, and that alone was enough.

Of course sleeping with her, Ian smiled, would definitely be a bonus.

Joss was beautiful, talented and relentless.

He'd love seeing those attributes in a totally different arena, writhing beneath him.

His nose wrinkled as he entered his apartment.

Chili.

He smelled chili.

No signs of a break-in and no alarms were tripped.

On very rare occasions, an unhappy customer or furious spouse would storm into his official office, but they never visited his home; few people knew where he lived, even his senior staff thought it was another location.

Ian adjusted his sleek bulletproof vest, touched his gun.

Cautiously, he made his way to his home office.

"Cock length, you really measure their cock length? This stuff is all true?"

A small, dark haired woman was sitting at his glass desk, which was strewn with the remains of enough food to choke a horse, including judging by the wrappers, three jumbo chili dogs.

"Truth in advertising, Ms. –" Murphy raised his eyebrows.

"Shaw, just call me Shaw." She shrugged as she leaned back in his chair. "Yeah, I can see it. Most guys tend to...stretch the truth about that. But do the women care?"

"Some do, some don't. It's like anything else; some like a single serving, while others," he glanced at the huge cup on his desk, "prefer a Big Gulp. But as I said, it's truth in advertising – part of the 'package'," Murphy smirked as he quickly assessed her; she didn't seem to be an angry significant other or appalled family member, and she damn sure wasn't a potential customer. Aside from trashing his desk with wrappers, crumbs and empty containers, the rest of his office was pristine, including his computer system on a side table. "My clients spend a lot of money and they expect me to be thorough; this is part of it."

He tilted his head at her. "You work for one of my competitors, Ms. – I mean, Shaw? Looks like you spent a rather lengthy time checking out my employees. How much are they paying you- I'm sure we can work something out," he gave her the dazzling smile that he'd spent hours in the mirror perfecting, "to our mutual satisfaction."

Her eyes glinted. "Nope. I'm actually here for you," her gaze flickered at his crotch, "big guy. You have plans tonight; I'm here," her low voice became deadly, "to change those plans."

Before Murphy could react, she used her legs to propel his desk up and forward, striking him in the chest and ramming him backwards, knocking the wind out of him. As he fell to his knees, Shaw catapulted in the air, somersaulting over the desk and landed with her legs around Murphy's neck.

She squeezed.

The last thing Murphy saw before he passed out was her crotch in his face.

"Yeah, I knew it," he heard her chortle as his eyes closed. "All talk, noooo action."

XXX

Where the hell was Ian, Joss thought.

She'd managed to get her room changed to a small suite; two bedrooms with a shared bath. The hotel was in the midst of converting interior room doors to fingertip controls and the bellhop had cautioned her that while the sensitivity levels were adjusted, bedroom and bathroom doors might pop open unexpectedly if you brushed up against the small, glowing panels that governed their operation.

He smiled at her worried expression. "It's just a precaution, ma'am; our patrons haven't reported any serious problems, and besides," he winked at her, "it could be fun."

Yeah, right, Joss thought as she unpacked. Now she had to worry about Ian seeing her picking lint out of her navel or scratching her ass.

This was getting better and better.

Joss pulled out several pieces of lingerie. She'd hurriedly bought them at the last minute, wondering as she held up each item against her body in the small boutique, whether or not she was really going to go through with this.

Ian said it was up to her. They could go as little or as far as she wanted.

Joss sighed. She couldn't deny the spark of desire Ian had lit when he looked so deeply into her eyes.

He was right. It had been too long and she was ready.

It wouldn't relieve the gnawing emptiness, but it would dull it a little, at least for one night.

With her mind made up, Joss left the room and joined her fellow sorority sisters at the opening reception. It was great catching up with them after not attending the last few reunions and Joss relaxed and enjoyed herself.

But now the clock was ticking, significant others were arriving and Kara was eyeing her with a nasty smirk on her face. Joss had stepped away and tried calling Ian, but it went to voice mail and he hadn't left her a message.

Where was he?

His space in his apartment parking garage was empty and Fusco confirmed for her that Ian's GPS was active; his car was on the highway.

Joss couldn't wait much longer. People were talking about going upstairs to change for dinner and she knew she needed to leave soon.

Feeling ridiculous, Joss stepped outside and scanned the parking lot.

Nothing.

She was overreacting; traffic was always a nightmare on Friday nights – he was just running late.

He'll be here, she thought, he'll be here.

Joss shut her eyes for a moment, then walked back in.

XXX

John Reese was in a secluded part of the parking lot, waiting.

Shaw had reported that Ian Murphy was secured. Finch had altered the GPS on Murphy's car and the cameras in his parking garage to make it seem as though he had left and was en route in case anybody checked.

Reese knew that he had to wait until the reception was almost over to enter the hotel. Catching her off guard at the last minute would reduce her options; he didn't expect her to make a scene, but he needed to rattle her a little bit to get her to do what he wanted.

He couldn't deny the jolt he felt when she stepped outside; a light breeze ruffled that shining bob and her brow crinkled adorably as she scanned the parking lot. Reese wanted to run his fingers through her thick locks and he wondered if her brow crinkled the same way as she reached the point of no return in bed, but he pushed those thoughts aside.

He wasn't here for that.

"So I have to ask you, John: When was the last time you had a good old fashioned, sweaty, dirty, wonderfully nasty fuck with a woman you really wanted?"

Zoe's smoky voice echoed in his mind.

Reese wanted Joss Carter, knew that from the moment he saw her.

But Jocelyn Carter wasn't a woman who you just fucked.

He imagined the fixer's silvery laughter and Shaw's sarcastic snort.

'Why? Because you think she's one of those white picket fence types, John? That she'd want more than just a roll in the hay?' he could hear Zoe saying with an elegantly raised eyebrow.

Shaw would roll her eyes at him with even more than her usual disdain. 'Newsflash, John: 'White picket fence types' – does anybody even have a white picket fence anymore - like to fuck, too.'

Alone, sitting in his office, gazing at her face on the screen, Reese knew it wasn't that Jocelyn Carter would want more that was bothering him.

It was that somewhere, deep inside, so deep that he thought it didn't even exist, Reese knew that he'd want more.

And that terrified him.

He watched her turn and walk inside the building.

It was time.

Jocelyn Carter had been playing a game where she made all the rules, but that was about to change.

Carrying a garment bag over one shoulder, Reese headed towards the hotel.

XXX

Turning to walk towards the elevators, Joss cursed to herself, as Kara began walking towards her with a smile like she'd just won the lottery.

"Sorry I'm late, Joss, my meeting ran over."

Joss turned around.

What the hell?

Joss fought not to react as the tall, dark haired man crossed the atrium and gently kissed her on the cheek.

She knew who he was.

John Reese.

John Fucking Reese.

The man who was trying to take her company away from her.

The RSE CEO kept almost a low profile as she did, but his photo was in their annual report and other key company documentation and Joss had made it her business to learn as much as she could about the man trying to take over JCarter.

Seeing photos and watching clips of John Reese was one thing; seeing him in the flesh…

It was like all the air had been sucked out of the room.

Joss knew if there was a chair nearby, she would have stumbled over to it to sit down.

She jammed her feet into the carpet to keep her legs from trembling.

He moved with a smooth, almost panther like grace, his blue eyes focused on her as though she was the most important thing in the world. His soft voice caressed her like a summer breeze, and as he leaned forward to kiss her cheek, Joss felt his masculinity cloaking her, enveloping her body as though their limbs were entwined, even though he had barely touched her.

Slipping his arm lightly around her waist, his lips grazed her ear. "Ian couldn't make it. I'm filling in...JCarter," he whispered seductively.

Oh, he's good, Joss thought, he's really good.

She slid her hand along his arm, trailing her fingers up his jacket sleeve, feeling the strong muscles flexing underneath.

You want to play, she thought, I can play, too.

Turning her head to look at him with a dazzling smile, Joss hissed without moving her lips, "Upstairs."

His eyes lingered on her mouth. "With pleasure."

Keeping his arm around her waist, John Reese turned her around so that they could begin heading towards the elevators.

"It's been a long time, John."

Joss wanted to scream as Kara stepped forward, arm extended.

Her eyes flashed towards Joss, and for a moment, there was a flicker of grudging admiration, but that quickly vanished and she focused all of her attention on the man beside Joss.

He took his arm from Joss' waist to shake her hand. "It has been a while, Kara, almost twenty years. Mark is well?"

"He's good. Upstairs conducting a conference call with a new client. As you know, John, there's never any down time in our business."

"Glad to hear MarKara's doing well."

"Yes, we'll have to compare notes – I'm sure there are some things we can collaborate on…if Joss can spare you for a few minutes tonight, we can catch up, and you also can tell me all about how you two managed to meet…" her eyes flickered dismissively towards Joss, "I wouldn't think that you travel in the same circles."

His arm slid around Joss' waist again. "Joss and I just…connected. Some things are meant to be, right, Joss?" he purred as he turned to look at her.

Joss looked at him adoringly. "Right, John. Some things just are."

"We'll see you in a while, Kara," he smiled.

They headed towards the elevator.

XXX

God, she was beautiful, Reese thought as the elevator doors closed.

Her hair smelled like jasmine, her skin felt like silk, her waist was even tinier than he'd imagined and as his arm slid around her, the tips of his fingers grazed that sumptuous ass.

She had echoed his play with speed and agility, and when she ran her hand up his arm, Reese couldn't help but think of her hands trailing across his body.

As her eyes burned with fury, Reese knew that Jocelyn Carter would be incredible in bed.

But the only games he wanted to play with her, at least right now, was the conversation he would have with her, in her – Reese smirked – their hotel room.

"You can let go of me now," she snarled.

"Just maintaining that connection, Joss," he smiled.

Her smile was feral. "The only connection I want to make is my fist to your face, while I beat you senseless."

Reese leaned forward again, whispering in her ear. "Careful, Counselor…some men like to be…beaten." Leaning back, his eyes lingered on her mouth. "And I'm sure you're very good at making men lose their senses."

She blinked at him and didn't say anything.

Your move, Joss, he thought as the elevator door dinged.

XXX

Kara watched them walk away.

It had been twenty years, but Kara hadn't forgotten what it was like to be in bed with John Reese.

She imagined it was even better now, all that passion and intensity enhanced with knowledge and experience.

John had two things that Kara wanted now.

She wanted his body and she also wanted his help.

MarKara was in trouble: while the company was still profitable, they had lost several key clients recently.

An agreement with their chief investor was coming to a close, and he expected payment, either in cash, or in ways that made Kara shudder with fear.

RSE, with its vast resources, could send clients their way, invest or even give them a low interest loan to get their dangerous creditor off their back.

And Kara knew that if even a rumor about, she smiled, a connection, with John's company would give MarKara much needed cachet and secure new clients.

Plus, there was something about those two…

Kara couldn't deny the strong sexual connection between John and Joss; you'd have to be totally incapacitated not to sense it, and her comment about the two not traveling in the same circles wasn't off base – John ran a multi-billion dollar company and while Joss' little legal firm did well, it wasn't even in the same stratosphere.

Still, people did meet, and somehow John and Joss had.

But Kara had spent a long time observing couples while she was selecting her next victim, and there was something about those two that just didn't fit. It wasn't anything that she could put her finger on, but there was something there.

And Kara couldn't wait to find out what it was and bust it wide open.

*From the Dominque Ansel Bakery website: Taking 2 months and more than 10 recipes, Chef Dominique Ansel's creation is not to be mistaken as simply croissant dough that has been fried. Made with a laminated dough which has been likened to a croissant (but uses a proprietary recipe), the Cronut™ pastry is first proofed and then fried in grapeseed oil at a specific temperature. Once cooked, each Cronut™ pastry is flavored in three ways: 1. rolled in sugar; 2. filled with cream; and 3. topped with glaze. The Cronut™ pastries are made fresh daily, and completely done in house. The entire process takes up to 3 days.

There is only one flavor of the Cronut™ pastry every month. Here are the flavors we've had: May – Rose Vanilla; June – Lemon Maple; July - Blackberry Lime; August – Coconut; September - Fig Mascarpone; October- Apple Creme Fraiche; November – Salted Dulce de Leche; December -Valrhona Chocolate Champagne; January – Peanut Butter Rum Caramel; February – Raspberry Lychee; March – Milk & Honey (with hint of lavender); April – Passion Fruit Caramelia; May – Blueberry Lemon Verbena; June – Strawberry Balsamic and Mascarpone; July – Morello Cherry with Toasted Almond Cream; August – Yellow Peach Black Tea; September – Bosc pear & Sage; October – Pumpkin Chai; November – Caribbean Rum Raisin. For December, it is Valrhona Dark Chocolate Raspberry (with a splash of Chambord).

Please eat the Cronut™ pastry immediately as it has a short shelf life. And if you do cut, please use a serrated knife, so as not to crush the layers. Never refrigerate these treats as the humidity from the refrigerator will cause them to go stale and soggy. Since the Cronut™ pastries are filled with cream, we do not recommend serving them warm or hot.

Need I say more – poor Finch didn't have a chance! A single Cronut retails for $5.