Yet… I don’t tell him no.
“You’d like to move onto the next step?” is what I ask.
“Hell yeah.” He gets to his feet. “Where is the conference room? Let’s go.”
“Hold on,” I say, holding my hand up. “Let’s talk a bit more first.”
“Not necessary. I’m ready for step two.”
“It’s actually step three, but I’m not. Come on. Sit. Please.”
With a small huff, he sits back down.
“Why are you so eager for this?” I ask.
“Uh, because it’s basically a dream job come true.”
“Is it? Have you dreamed of being someone’s slave?”
His cheeks turn a little pink. “Well, no, but I know it’s something I can be good at and the money is great.”
I take a deep breath, then say, “As much as I appreciate your enthusiasm, I need you to understand that there is much more to this than you’re thinking. It’s not as simple as ‘do the job and leave.’ We haven’t even gotten to the fine details yet. This isn’t the type ofjobyou can deal with for a pay check. There are personality requirements and mental stability…”
“I know that.”
“You don’t though, which is why I am trying to explain it to you. I am going into this knowing it could not work out, because that’s what happens, and you need to have the same mind frame too. If this is too much, you need to tell me. Communication is important when it comes to this, and I need to be clear about one other thing.”
“Okay?”
“This lifestyle isn’t typically a paid thing. That’s not normal.”
“Then why are you paying me?”
“It’s easier to make this transactional. It’s less likely we will develop feelings if money and contracts are involved, and, though I said it’s not all about the money, it is enough of an incentive for someone to keep trying. To push a little. It’s too intimate when it’s personal, and I can’t have that. I need the paperwork and the NDAs and the contracts. It’s the only way I can make this happen for me. But if for some reason, yourealize you love this lifestyle and we split ways, I need you to understand that payment isn’t part of it.”
“And it’s that important to you that it happen?”
“This is like… therapy for me,” I admit “So yes, it’s best that it is this way.”
I don’t usually explain so much to someone, and I don’t know why I am explaining so much to him. Typically, I give solid and firm answers. With Cassius, I’m digging deeper. Giving him more.
He nods slowly. “I understand what you’re saying. I get you’re worried, and I can see why. But I promise you that I am okay with this. If anything changes, I will tell you.”
“That’s part of what we do anyway,” I say, getting to my feet.
“What do you mean?”
“We have weekly check-ins to make sure you’re doing okay. Shall we go to the conference room now?”
“Yes, please.”
With the folder tucked tightly under my left arm, I lead Cassius to the private conference room in the back by the storage rooms. It’s used for nothing else than this. It’s smaller than my other rooms, and a bit darker as it was meant to be an additional storage room, but I’d changed it into a small meeting room when I decided this was the best place to conduct my private business.
The lights flicker on when I flip the switch, and I gesture to the table big enough to seat eight. He moves directly to the small window and looks out of it, getting another view of the city. I close the door behind me and take the head seat.
It’s your basic conference room, bland and boring. Other than the table and chairs, there is only a small rolling cart with a pad and a few pens, in case they are needed. A phone hangs on the wall, and a few abstract paintings too.
Cassius takes the seat to my left, and I carefully open the folder.