Before I knew it a new box had popped up on my computer screen.

Requested: None

Likes:

Dislikes:

Name: Anthony

He was most likely a first timer and the name was probably a fake. There was usually no info in the 'Likes' and 'Dislikes' when they were new because they were embarrassed to say, or to be calling at all.

First timers tended to bug me since you had to make them comfortable and get them to voice their wants. It was always a 50/50 shot of whether they could get comfortable enough to stay on the line with you. But when they did get comfortable, they stayed on for awhile. The longer the call the larger my paycheck, so I didn't really mind the small talk thing.

I didn't want to come on too strong at first so I decided to go with my least threatening character, Sadie.

I pressed the connect button and heard the tell tale beep.

"Hi, Anthony?" I called softly in a slightly higher tone than my normal voice.

"Hi, uh. Yeah, I'm here," a deep, masculine voice responded.

"Hi there, my name is Sadie. So, how are you this evening?"

Usually I got a response like 'horny' or 'lonely', but not this time.

"I'm fine. Uh, how are you?" He seemed nervous. I guess I'll have to lead this one.

"Better now that I'm talking to you.*giggle* Tell me, what do you look like?"

"Um, I'm about 5'11, I'm twenty six, reddish brown hair and green eyes," he said hesitantly.

"Really? I just love guys with green eyes," I said, drawing out the words.

He didn't respond.

"So, Anthony. Don't you want to know what I look like?" I asked sweetly.

"Oh, uh. Sure," he replied cautiously. Enthusiastic aren't we?

"Well, I'm twenty one, blonde hair a little past my shoulders and blue eyes. I live in California so I've got a nice tan, and right now I'm wearing a pink lace bra and panty set. *giggle*" Dear god, I really hate myself sometimes.

"Oh, uh. That's… good. What do you do in California?" Anthony asked. That was an odd response, but I knew had to go with it.

He has a great voice. I just wish I could get him to talk.

"Well, I'm in college right now, but I spend most my time at the beach. You know, working on my tan. I just love being able to lay out in my bikini and feel the warm sun on my skin. Especially when my friend Jen rubs me down with lotion. It just makes me so wet that all I wanna do is-"

"Never mind," he huffed. "This was a dumb idea. Have a nice night, Sadie."

"What?" Well, that's insulting. What is with this guy?

"Wait!" I called out before he had a chance to hang up. "What's wrong? What exactly were you looking for when you called?" I asked, accidentally allowing more of my normal tone slip through.

I was starting to get pissed off. I was tired and wanted to go home. But for some reason I didn't want him to hang up just yet.

"I don't know," he said as he let out deep sigh. "Just some decent conversation, I guess. I can get fucked any time, that's not why I called. I'm sorry I wasted your time," he said sadly.

He sounded so… lonely.

"Anthony, if all you want is conversation, I can do that. It would actually be a nice change of pace for me. What did you want to talk about?" I had dropped the dirty girl accent all together by now and was speaking in my normal voice.

This was definitely different, but not unwelcome in the least.

"I really don't know," he responded uncertainly.

"Well, how about we start with why you decided to call a hotline instead of someone you know." Actually talking, and not acting, felt a little strange.

"Uh, I guess, because I don't really have anyone to talk to." He paused for a moment. "Most of the people that call themselves my friends are more like acquaintances. I have no problem with women, but I've found that most of them only want sex or to get into my wallet." He spoke the last part softly, as if he were embarrassed to admit he had no one that he could consider close.

"Anyway, I suppose I thought talking to a complete stranger might be better," he ended in a lighter tone.

"That's one thing I like about this job. Anonymity," I said, matching his mood.

"How did you get into this line of work, anyway?" Anthony asked.

"I thought we were talking about you, not me." I wanted to avoid any subject related to me. It was expressly forbidden for the operators to give out any personal information. Although that mostly applied to address', real names and phone numbers. Information about our lives wasn't prohibited, but it was frowned upon. We were expected to play a part, nothing else.

"I wanted conversation. Usually that works better when the people involved take turns. So?" he asked again.

I knew I had to stay in character, at least partially. It was one of the rules.

"It helps me pay for college, and I enjoy it." Wasn't that every strippers line? 'I'm just stripping to pay my way through med school'?

Anthony chuckled into the phone lightly and I found I truly enjoyed the sound.

"I doubt that's the truth. That's the character you portray. Sadie probably isn't even your real name. Is it?"

"And Anthony is yours?"

I didn't want him to hang up, but I couldn't answer the question.

"Fair enough."

I couldn't tell him what he asked and the conversation kind of hung in the air. I decided I would basically tell him why I couldn't answer him.

"I'm not supposed to give out any personal info," I practically whispered into the mouth piece.

"I don't want any. Not even your real name. but it would be nice to talk to someone openly for once. Even if specifics are omitted." I couldn't help but smile at the way he spoke. He was eloquent and clearly well read. Especially in comparison to the uneducated boys I knew around town who probably didn't even know who Geoffrey Chaucer or Langston Hughes were.

I decided to tell him the truth. As much as I could anyway. After all, I knew what it was like to have no one to talk to.

"Um, okay. My dad was injured on the job a few years ago. He can't work and this job helps me pay the bills. My college fund was used up the first year and minimum wage only goes so far."

That was more open than I had been with anyone in awhile. I had especially never told it to any of my customers before. But for some reason this guy made me actually want to talk.

"Wow, that's pretty selfless. I didn't really expect that," he responded, disbelief evident in his voice.

"Why is that so unexpected? Just because of what I do? I didn't want this job, I needed it," I said a bit defensively. I hated when people judged me by my job. It was the very reason I told Charlie and everyone else that I worked nights cleaning offices.

"I'm sorry, you're right. I shouldn't have presumed to know your reasons."

Well, at least he didn't pretend that I had misunderstood his comment.

"Thank you. I don't even know why I told you that anyway. Can I ask you a question?" I asked, trying to bring the conversation back to him.

"Shoot."

"Why don't you have any close friends you can talk to? I mean, you sound like a nice enough guy."

"Well, I do have one close friend. We've known each other since college. But he recently started dating my younger sister. They're entirely absorbed in each other a

t the moment and it's a bit awkward for me."

Ah, so they're just on the outs.

"Do you resent them for starting a relationship with one another?"

"No, not at all!" he responded immediately. "I love them and know they are both good people. They're happy together, and I'm happy for them. But obviously they're more concentrated on each other and … I guess I just feel kind of…"

"Left out?"

"Uh, yeah. Is that weird?" he asked self consciously.

"No, I can understand it. Is she your only sibling?"

"No, I have an older brother, also. It's been a little strained between us lately, though. I loath his wife and she whole heartedly returns the sentiment. He is the peace keeper."

"Why don't you like her?" I asked.

"The woman is an emotionless drone. I'm worried she may just be a gold digger but have no proof of it," he said.

"Please tell me you are not actively searching for proof."

"No, of course not," he said with force. "It's just a suspicion."

"Well, even if she is, she's who your brother chose to spend his life with. You have to be respectful of that and support his choice. Family is one of the most important things in life." That was the second time he had mentioned money, so I assumed he considered it a big part of himself and definitely his life.

I ran my words over in my head. It was what I had always believed. My father was the only family I had left. I was always trying to protect him. But over the years I had started to realize that I couldn't protect him from himself, no matter how much I tried.

I took care of him when he first came home from the hospital. Everything came second to his well being and comfort. I remembered the night terrors, the crying, the cursing. From him and me both. I remembered the day I gave up everything. For my family. Now I was a bitter and broke phone sex worker. I wanted to cry and scream in anger all at once. But it wouldn't change anything, so why bother.

Anthony's voice broke me out of my depressing memories.

"What are the other things?" he asked.

"What?"

"The other important things in life. What are they?" Oh.

"I suppose they are different for everyone. But for me they are family, love, trust and passion," I answered.

"What about happiness?" he asked.

"To me, having those things means having happiness. What are your most important things?" I turned the question on him.

"Most would say that respect, money and lust are on my list. But honestly, I would say family, trust and passion as well."

"What about love?" Surely love would be on his list. Who didn't hope for true love?

"I don't know if I believe in it. I've only experienced superficial love. Women who claim to love me, but are really only looking for something in return. If it is real, it must be a rarity." His response made me feel pity for him. It must be awful to go through life believing no one has ever truly loved you.

"Love doesn't always mean people, you know," I said.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I love books and art. I'm passionate about classic novels and beautiful thoughts brought to life on a canvas." Anthony paused before responding.

"What's your favorite book?"

He's trying to change the subject? Maybe he really doesn't believe in love.

"Wuthering Heights. It has been since high school. What's yours?"

"A Prayer for Owen Meaney. Artist?" he asked.

"Georgia O'Keefe"

"Black Abstraction is a beautiful piece," he murmured into the phone, as if it were a secret.

Anthony knew the works of Georgia O'Keefe. He knew Black Abstraction by name, and it wasn't even one of her very well known pieces. This man just kept surprising me.

"Wave at Night is my favorite." I smiled and blushed. This conversation was beginning to feel much more intimate than it should have been.

There was a pause in our conversation and looking at the time on my computer screen I saw that we had been talking for almost forty five minutes. I felt guilty for how much the call must have been costing him. That thought alone proved that I was getting too caught up in this call. I had never cared about what my time was costing any man before.

I realized I was getting far too interested in this particular caller. I had to remind myself that he was nothing but another customer, only the voice of a man I would never meet; a paycheck.

I had to detach myself, and fast. Even if that meant giving up on a substantial increase on this weeks check.

"Well, it's the end of my shift. It was really nice talking to you, Anthony," I said, and before I could stop myself. "Give me a call again if you ever need to talk. I mean, if you want to." I slapped myself in the forehead, undoubtedly leaving a big red mark. God, what am I doing?

"Thank you for listening, Sadie," he said, and I could hear the smile on his lips. I couldn't help but smile in return as a light blush colored my cheeks.

"I'm pretty sure all I did was answer random questions. But I can be a pretty good listener, if you ever need it." Insert foot in mouth now.

"I might just take you up on that. Good night, Sadie," he said softly.

"Good night, Anthony," I returned just as softly.

I actually regretted having to press the disconnect button. What if he never called back?

Shit, I'm in trouble. I hope he doesn't call back.

I was lying to myself now. After only forty five minutes I had begun falling for a voice…