FSE

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"You must be kidding," I said. "I've heard some crazy requests, but-"

My manager's voice remained as dry as leaves in November. "I never joke about clients." But then she didn't joke much period. "Desiree, are you turning it down?"

I took a deep breath. "No." I couldn't afford to; this was somewhat of a dry season. Certainly my schedule was wide open for the 4th.

"Good," she said, and I could hear the relief in her voice. "You're the only one who matched his specifications." She paused. "He's a deer."

I guess a gazelle was close enough to what would do. "Well, we should meet first to get our stories straight. Can you call him and arrange it?"

"Yes. I'll send him to the Redmund. Goodbye."

I shook my head when she hung up. Why had the agency put a wolf on the phone? In my experience, canines were so caught up in body posture - the position of ears and tails, the scent - they had had no ear for phone conversation. Maybe it was prejudiced of me, but wolves were the worst with that body language dependency.

Once I had the call-back, I had a few hours to prepare. Shower, hoof and horn shining, makeup, a slinky but respectable chocolate dress and I was on my way. Before I went inside I texted the agency that I had arrived.

The Redmund was where I liked to do these sit-downs. The hotel staff polite but not vigilant, the bar always going, and the restaurant did not charge you by the limb. The industrial air conditioning was a plus - even being a warm weather species, the climate in this part of the country could be abusive in the summer.

At just-past-quitting-time the restaurant was relatively empty, but it could have been a sports stadium and I still could've picked him out. The glass of soda sat untouched on his table and he folded and unfolded the cloth napkin while staring down at the table. I strode to his table, the performance of my walk lost as he never looked up. He must have been deep in thought, never hearing the noise of my hooves on the carpet, because when I said his name his startled jerk nearly took the table with it.

I only smiled, touched the chair across from him and said, "Jacob? I'm Desiree."

"Yes, hi, yes, I'm Jacob, hello," he said all too fast, avoiding eye contact like it might blind him. Then he closed in on himself, arms crossed, head slightly down.

Instead of even bothering to ease into this, I waved the waiter over and ordered myself a glass of wine, giving him the time to get used to my presence. Although I think he could have used a drink more than I did.

Finally I turned and said, "So Jacob. What is it you do for a living?"

"Software engineer."

I tilted my head, perked my ears and looked impressed. "Really? You must be smart; isn't that complicated?"

"Not really," the deer said and I coaxed him into talking more about the thrilling world of software. As he spoke, and I gave him more attention, he began to loosen up. By the time my wine arrived he actually looked me in the eye.

I continued to probe as I considered him. To say the stag was fat would be unfair; he had a broad frame with what I bet was a sedentary lifestyle, it settled on him like an extra layer of padding. You could see a little thickness along his neck and arms, but his stomach had the most. Plain but not offensively so, dressed in a polo and khakis, and it being the summer he lacked any antlers. Bucks always seemed down or withdrawn at this time of the year, like their racks were physically attached to their pride. While not unattractive he but gave the impression of a cuddly and non-threatening friend.

A momentary lull settled when he ran out of things to say, so I set in to finally getting down to business. "So Jacob. Do you know how you want this to go?"

Immediately the wind went out of his sails and he began to fiddle with a napkin. "I... want everyone to believe you're my girlfriend."

"Okay." I reached out and touched his hand, leaning forward and dropping my voice in a comforting tone. "This isn't that unusual. A lot of people hire me to-"

"No," he cut me off, drawing away. "I don't want to pay for that I just-"

"Want someone nice to pose as your girl, that happens a lot," I finished. "Fancy dinners, parties, once I even posed as a client's fiancée at his high school reunion. I do this a lot. Some males are just so busy professionally they don't have time to find someone, and want others to think they can land an attractive, nice girl. Everyone wants everyone else to think they're successful. There's nothing to be ashamed of here."

I had added that last bit because he still hadn't looked at me, and he started closing up again. It brought his head up and he looked at me once, but I had the feeling he didn't believe me. The deer took a deep breath. "I don't want them to... I've never brought a girl home, never even told them I've had a girlfriend. I know - I know they talk about it, and I don't want them to keep hassling me, keep worrying, keep thinking I'm weird, or a loser, or gay."

"But you're not."

I had said it like a reassuring statement, but he didn't take it that way. "I'm not gay." He said it quick and with eye contact, but then his voice started to falter. "I'm just... I don't... talking to women is hard."

"I understand." Reaching out, I pressed my paw over his and smiled again. Oh, I believed him. I understood it. His type: lonely, starved for intimacy and contact. Most males that came to me - women in my profession - were. "You're not weird or a loser, Jacob. It's okay." And it was - the last thing clients like Jacob needed was to feel judged, and like a therapist, I had to make him feel comfortable and safe, giving him a place to be himself.

It was just smart business. A client who felt good and safe would likely return again.. "And hey, you're talking to me just fine."

"I guess," he said.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Part of me hated asking that. If he didn't go through with it, I wouldn't get paid. He'd feel bad about backing out and I'd feel bad about losing a client. But it would be worse if he pulled the plug half way through the date.

The pause that followed had me holding my breath, and when he eked out a "Yes," the stress of my empty bank account relaxed.

He sat up and straightened his shoulders, taking a slow breath. "So," he said with an attempt at a smile, "what uh, what do we do now?"

"Now," I said with a smile, "you tell me about who we need to impress, and then we work out the details of our relationship."

* * *

Two days later I met him in the hotel's parking lot and I got into his car. Normally I'd take my own, but it would be noticed where we were going and look weird coming and going in separate cars if we were together. It was a lengthy trip to the suburbs and it gave me time to test him repeatedly on the ins and outs of our cover story. We couldn't cover all possibilities, so I told him to relax, let me handle most of the questions, ad-lib if something he didn't know came up, and be sure I knew the lie to keep it consistent.

The nervousness eventually eased off, and when the conversation moved to other things, he even relaxed. Jacob grew animated and made wry little jokes once I acted interested in what he had to say. He seemed genuinely nice after he made it over that initial hump and he swallowed his anxiety.

We also dodged the awkward handing over of payment. The hard rule was money up front, but my manager had let me know Jacob paid with a card after our initial meeting. Since we were going to be here several hours but the exact times were uncertain, a full evening charge of $800 settled things. It also meant I was secure the payment was coming, didn't have to worry about carrying or counting it, and my cut was in the mail.

The car pulled up outside of a tawny-colored house that otherwise matched the other cookie-cutter homes in the subdivision. The driveway was so clogged we had to park along the curb behind several other cars. Before we got out I texted the agency to let them know I'd arrived on my date.

Jacob in his cargo shorts and t-shirt led me around the side of the house to the fenced in back yard, where I could already hear voices over the country music and smell the food. With the forecast called for a welcome almost-mild 4th of July, I had went with a butter-cream tank top and a pair of white capris snug enough to emphasize my slender, tight legs and hips while still looking casual.

He looked like he was back to being nervous, but I felt comfortable and ready. I was used to this kind of work; I'm pretty and not gorgeous, not the thing of fantasies, so I get more social than erotic dates (although being a gazelle gave me a touch of the exotic, which drew either kind of client). I had just never heard of something quite like this.

He went through the gate first, and because I had to line up behind him, I don't think they saw me at first. I heard a male voice say, "Here comes Jacob, so we must be about ready to eat." When I stepped around him into the yard, a momentary pause settled over the gathered deer. Most were middle aged with a few young faces, all gathered in a knot of lawn chairs or folding chairs, and others seated at two tables pushed together.

"Good," I said loud enough for them to hear me clearly, "I'm hungry."

A brief burst of activity bubbled up with people making comments over one another or sharing pointed looks. That was my cue to get to work.

I strode over to a table off to the side, where a pair of does were uncovering dishes wrapped in saran wrap, and aimed a smile that could light a dark basement at the older of the two, who looked like she was cresting fifty. "Hi," I said, "I'm Rose. You must be Jacob's mother?"

She smiled back, surprise and interest in her eyes. "Hello! I'm Mary!" Then she glanced at Jacob who had followed behind."You didn't tell me you were bringing company," she chided him with nervous delight.

"I didn't know I could come until the last minute," I cut in before he replied.

"They're done." We looked over to see a stag of Mary's age carrying over a plate from a still-smoking barbecue. He set it loudly on the table, then noticed me, looked from me to Jacob, and just smiled like he had won something. He wore a shirt with our country's flag blazoned across it. Jacob had told me that the 4th was his father's favorite holiday.

"Oh then it is time to eat. You'll have to sit with us," Mary said in a polite way that made it clear we had no room to argument. "It's ready! Everyone, get your plates."

Chairs emptied and everyone gathered in a little line. Like me, they likely had a light breakfast and were waiting for this very thing. Having been here less than two minutes the scent had been getting to me, so I couldn't imagine what those who had been sitting and waiting felt like. I heard conversation, someone saying something to Jacob - and then I saw the spread.

Grilled corn on the cob, Portobello burgers, and kebabs with peppers and cherry tomatoes and other slightly toasted things. Deviled eggs, green beans, potato salad, casserole, macaroni and cheese, and corn bread. Candied yams, banana pudding, cakes and at least one pie I was betting was apple. Being no magician in the kitchen, home cooking that tasted good was rare for me, and a buffet like this was heaven in a plate.

I piled a paper plate full, poured some sweet tea from an icy pitcher, and sat down close to whom I suspected was Jacob's father. Broad like his son but thick with what used to be a laborer's musculature. He also didn't have any food, just a bottle of beer.

"Not going to eat?" I asked before taking a bite of the corn, the buttery kernels bursting and dripping over my chin.

"Mine's coming," he said and smiled. "I'm Luke."

Taking a dip of the tea, I was about to respond before my teeth started to ache from the entire bag of sugar that must have been poured into that tea. Luke laughed, then turned towards the big table. "Mary! We need some of your tea." To me he said, "She'll tell you everyone here except her likes their teeth to rot with every drink."

And she did, when she came over balancing two full plates and a glass of tea, setting one in front of Luke, the other she sat farther down the table in front of a buck who might have just graduated high school, and then gave me my glass. "Thanks," I said to her.

She promised to be right back and went to get her own food. Jacob passed her and sat down next to me. We were certainly getting attention as people filtered back to the tables.

Luke skipped the pleasantries, probably waiting for his wife to eat, and instead immediately launched into a conversation with Jacob over an action movie that had just come out at theaters. While he had told me beforehand, I didn't need the info to see movies were one of the only common grounds they shared.

"Daddy, she has antlers! Why don't you have antlers?" Down the table, a little fawn sat in the lap of a clean-cut, perfect-postured buck. He shot me a smile before shushing her by putting a finger to her lips, which made the little doe pout.

"That's my brother Adam's kid," Jacob said with a smile.

I smelled cigarette smoke before the female deer pushing seventy dropped into a seat at the end of the table, plopping down two beers and her food. It was customary to smoke downwind from everyone else, and she smelled like she had spent the afternoon there. "Hey you brought someone home!" She slapped Jacob on the upper arm. "Way to go!" I had also been warned beforehand about Jacob's grandmother, Charlene.

Mary joined us, saving us from having to reply to that. "So how did you two meet?"

Now I ate with deliberate slowness, both to savor and to draw things out to let me think, even though this had been one of the first things we rehearsed. "My brother. My computer broke, and I called him, thinking he'd know. He didn't, but he plays one of those games that has the many-sided dice with Jacob. Five minutes with Jacob on the phone and he knew what was going on and that it was serious."

"Haha, there you go," Charlene said, leaning over to rub Jacob's shoulder, spilling some of her beer on the ground in the process.

"He's sweet like that," Mary said.

"Yes he is," I said, smiling at him. "He offered to fix it, and when I tried to pay him he said no." Placing my hand on his shoulder, I said, "So I offered dinner and well..."

When he didn't say anything, I nudged him with my knee. "And here we are," he added.

For about five minutes, questions about me dominated the conversation: I was a paralegal. Yes, I liked the city I lived in. I went to the same denomination they did. Why yes I voted for the last President, but of course didn't vote for the current one, and it sure was a shame what he was doing to the country.

A few months ago a client brought me as a date to an event held by a national gun-owners group, raising money for a big "family values" senator. I was in well versed territory here. (Between you and me, a colleague of mine informed me of that senator's interest in diapers and electricity.)

"Excuse me," I finally said. "'I'm going to get some dessert. Do you want anything?"

While I chatted, Jacob had went for his second serving, so he shook his head. I felt bad leaving him behind, but I did want dessert, my figure be damned. It just meant more time at the gym later.

I looked up from spooning some banana pudding onto a fresh plate to see Adam sidling up next to me. "So you two are together." His words were direct and precise, a voice used to giving or taking orders. I would have known he was in the military even if I hadn't been briefed.

"Mmhm," I said, moving to the yams.

"You won me twenty dollars."

I looked up. Adam gestured to the young buck that Mary had served earlier. "Paul had money on Jacob being gay."

What wonderful siblings. "Well, if he is gay, then he's a very convincing actor," I said with eye contact and suggestive smile to spare. I left him with a stupid look on his face.

As I neared my chair I overheard, "..considered marriage yet?"

Luke frowned, "Mary."

"Oh leave him alone," Charlene said too loudly. "This is his first girl. He probably just wants to break some furniture, sow them wild oats." She laughed and drank, and I suspected that was probably more than her fourth beer.

Luke's disapproving snort came just after a choking noise bubbled out of Jacob.

"Mother!" Mary scolded. Then, crossly to Luke, "I'm his mother. It's my job to worry about these things. It's not as though they'll bring home grandbabies..."

It was then that they all noticed me hovering above my chair. Mary feigned embarrassment while giving me a good hard reading.

I smiled politely and said, "We're still getting to know one another." I sat down and promptly put a fork in my mouth. "These yams are delicious."

Jacob now took the time to get some dessert.

Charlene leaned over and told me in a too-loud whisper, "Don't think we care that you're not a deer. My second husband was a horse!"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jacob flanked by Adam and Paul. By their grins and the way Jacob curled in on himself and looking at no one, I would have bet they were asking him how well I bounced the bedsprings.

The afternoon went like that. The rest of the gathered had their turn to take a few verbal licks, and a few other personalities brought their own drama that didn't involve either of us.

Finally I turned to Jacob. "Do you think we could make it to my parents' place before the fireworks?"

The relief on his face was priceless. But he said, "Only if I broke some speed limits."

Mary frowned. "You're not going to stay for the fireworks?"

"You gotta come to the bar with me afterwards," Charlene said. She had sobered up - barely.

This I had prepared for. "Sorry. I take some medication that doesn't go well with alcohol."

"It's a karaoke bar!" Charlene cheered. "You can watch the drunks sing!"

"That's okay. I should at least say hello to my mother," I said, as Jacob all but dragged me from the yard.

I knew he was unhappy without looking at him, and his discord was nearly a physical thing when our eyes met over the car before we climbed in. He hired me hoping I would relieve all that pressure and negative attention, and all it earned him was more of the same with new uncomfortable questions.

No wonder long stretches of interstate separated them. Though I was naturally sympathetic, what with not being on rosy terms with my own family.

Defeat hung like humidity in the car. The silence and tension coming off of him weighed down on me and it sat wrong in my stomach. It happens sometimes, a client not getting what they want because usually either their expectations weren't met or they reacted differently, but a bad date never felt right to me. I should see it as a transaction, but I so far haven't been able to separate that personal element. Especially as with Jacob, I knew how important it was.

Looking out the window, I waited until I saw what I wanted and pointed. "Pull over."

"Huh?"

"Park right over there." I put enough authority in my voice that he didn't question despite the worry on his features.

When the car slid to a stop inside an empty strip mall's parking lot, I unbuckled and turned so I could look at him directly. "Listen, I know this didn't work out how you expected." I placed a paw on his upper arm. "I'm sorry."

He spared me a glance before staring out the window.

Carefully I reached out and touched his muzzle, turning his head to look into my eyes. I could see hurt there. Mostly not from today, but hurt of him over himself. I hated seeing it. Again, I should have been detached.

An escort doesn't just give someone what they want, they strive to give the client what they need. I knew what he needed.

I looked into his eyes, leaned close, and said as gentle and earnest as I could, "You didn't ask for this, but I think you deserve it." Leaning in I brushed my lips against his.

Before I could put any more pressure, Jacob pulled back. "I don't want pity." He sounded as wounded as he looked.

"That's not what it's about," I half-lied. You hear that girls in the business don't have sex for money, the sex happens only if they want to - usually that's a lie to cover our ass. Yet it happens, it's happened with me before, and I wanted to now to ease the pain I saw. Maybe that is a little pity there.

Moisture just started to collect at the corners of his eyes, and he looked down and away. A hint of a shake rattled in his voice, one coming from somewhere deep and raw. "You should want me."

Leaning in I brushed my nose against his cheek. "What I want is for you to be happy. You are sweet, gentle and smart, and I wish you believed that about yourself."

He tilted his muzzle into the touch. "But I'm not-"

"I want to show you that you are." I nuzzled the top of my muzzle under his. "Will you let me?"

It took so long for him to answer I was about to lean back and buckle up, but then he whispered, "All right."

Cupping his muzzle, I turned his head to me and kissed him again, taking my time now. He replied in kind, hesitating but not completely clumsy with it, and brushed his paw along my neck and shoulder like it might burn him. My lips parted and after several licks along his, we rubbed tongues together at a relaxed pace.

When he warmed up and gained the courage to flirt a finger over my breast, I first pushed against it, then eased back. I caught his eye and pulled my tanktop off, then traced one of my breasts with a finger. "Now your shirt."

A wave of self-consciousness broke over his face. I stroked his muzzle again. "Please?"

It took longer than necessary for him to drag it off and toss it into the back seat with my tank. Again I made eye contact and leaned forward, kissing his chest, brushing my lips over an overweight pec, nibbling daintily just shy of his nipple. His mouth hung agape, nostrils flaring. Skimming my tongue over the little bump of skin in all that fur earned me a throaty noise. I made sure he saw my smile. All the while I slid my fingers along the line of his stomach, barely brushing the fur.

"Nothing here that bothers me, Jacob. I like what I see."

"Really?"

I looked over his round belly and back to his eyes. "Really." In this business you have to swallow any displeasure with the client's appearance because you get all kinds. The same way a waitress smiles and bears it at a rude customer, you have to move on while appearing like you want them. Sure I wasn't melting in my seat but I wasn't put off either. More importantly I cared about him believing me, both as a client and as Jacob.

I rubbed a hand along the top of his thigh, then moved higher. The front of his shorts were quite tense, and already the smell of eager stag started drifting up to me. After drawing down his zipper as slow as I could, I slid a paw inside and cupped his erection, squeezing it and making him twitch in his seat. It felt big and thick like his frame suggested.

For several moments I watched his tightening expression as my paw stroked over him, then popped his button and drew out his cock. The earthy richness of stag's musk flowed up, reminding me of stirred soil and tree bark. I squeezed it and looked around the car.

It would have been less of a hassle to do it here than convince him to drop the money on a hotel room, but it was a poor option. I've only done this a few times in a car, and the limo had been the only remotely comfortable experience. At least Jacob had a spread sedan - a car with more space to accommodate those species with horns or antlers, and those with bulkier frames like horses - so we had more room to maneuver. But I wanted to be in the lead, which narrowed things down to one.

Keeping up the steady stroking I told him, "Lay your seat back." When he had, I relaxed my touches, using just the pads of my fingers to caress first over his length, then under the flare of his crown.

Cradling Jacob's shaft, I leaned forward and grazed my lips along the side of his cock, then up over the head. I toyed with it, kissing around the tip, pressed my lips against it so he felt them open and stretch over him, squeezing and suckling for just a few seconds before dragging off and starting over. I like to look up at partners when I go down on them, but leaning over his lap like this I couldn't. From the snort of his nostrils and a squirm beneath me, I didn't have to wonder that he was enjoying himself. At least he didn't grab hold of my horns - that joke grew old in high school.

I sank down until my nose buried in his sheath, took a deep breath, rocked back up and then down again. Deep throating is a necessary job skill, and it always made an impression, but I don't like it. Instead, while at his base again I sucked hard enough that I couldn't open my muzzle if I tried, and began to drag upwards. The vacuum meant real resistance to him being pulled free, and he could feel every inch of himself gradually escaping me. Finally I hooked my lips behind the ridge of his glans and tugged playfully, licking over it, before doing the suction trick on the way down.

Thankfully I made it all the way back up without getting him off, but he was breathing hard and I tasted pre. Usually I hope for that because it makes a date much quicker, but in this case it would have colored the evening with an even more sour hue. Besides, while I wanted to show him some very good head, I had more I wanted to give him.

While teasing him I reached into my purse, pulled out and started opening the condom so that as soon as I lifted my head, I started rolling it down. He looked down at it then at me, but stayed quiet.

After making sure it was snug I gave him a little time to cool off. Leaning back, I peeled down my capris and thong. I preferred to tease a little, show off my panties if my partner wasn't in the lead, but there was just no room. It would've also been more discreet had I worn a skirt, but I wasn't expecting action.

"Could you scoot your chair back?"

Once he had I worked at maneuvering above him, tucking my knees into the sides of his seat, and I hooked my calves under his legs. A tight fit, but my ass wouldn't be honking the horn in the middle of the commotion. I sat back, leaving him pressed between our bellies, and caressed along his chest and stomach.

Jacob finally touched me, grazing my side like I was some soap bubble that might pop from too firm a nudge. I arched and smiled. "You're handsome," I told him. "If we were somewhere else, I'd have wanted to sit and cuddle." Which was true.

He cupped my breast and I pushed into it. "Really? I like to do that - cuddling."

"Yes." I drew the 's' sound into a breathy hiss as he began to toy with my nipple, encouraging him to keep touching me, to let go. "You're good at that. Have you been with a girl before?"

"Yeah." Jacob chuckled like the memory was a bad joke.

Deciding not to ask further, I started to rock, pressing our stomachs together and teasing his cock between our hot bodies, but he leaned up and started sucking on my nipple, making me jerk in surprise. I moaned for him, stroking one of his ears, and slid my body over him, hoping it wouldn't uproot the condom.

After rubbing the whole of my front across him, I rocked back and sat up, cupped him and pressed the condom-wrapped tip against my folds. Then I waited until I caught his eyes with mine. The skyline had grown dark blue so the lighter qualities of our fur and our eyes stood out the most. I gazed down into his, gave him a slow, sumptuous smile, and eased my weight down, sinking him into me.

He groaned, watching himself disappear inside. For his viewing pleasure I rolled my hips sideways like a pendulum on a clock as I went until I nestled on his lap. He felt good inside me, filling me up without the discomfort that a bigger species might bring. Flexing my muscles inside drew a startled breath out of him.

Being in no hurry, I leaned down and laid across his chest, wrapped my arms around his neck, and kissed him. This time the kiss lasted longer, his muzzle more enthusiastic against mine while his hands roved down my back and then squeezed my butt. I encouraged him, rocking side to side again, the motion stirring him inside me and making me shiver while my insides clenched in flutters.

Then I sat up, sliding back and grinding forward in a roll as I reached up and pressed my palms to the roof. Bracing, I started to churn my hips in a tight circle, stirring him around inside of me. I arched, pushing my breasts out. It tightened all those muscles along my front, too, making everything a display. Why yes I am a showboat; it comes with the territory.

Not that I had long to perform.

Beneath me Jacob snorted his puffing breath, his hooves shuffling against the floor mat. As I moved his thighs and stomach tensed underneath me. He wasn't going over this second, but soon, and I knew I wouldn't be getting off. I'd long ago accepted that orgasms were an uncommon bonus.

I started to bounce, and still bracing on the ceiling, pushed back down with my arms. My butt slapped against his thighs as the car started to really rock under the effort. Leaning back just a little, all my weight kept coming down on his pelvis and I knew the pressure would be intense for him even before I heard the sudden grunt.

A few more flexes of my thighs and he drew in a hiss of breath through his teeth, his ears went back and I felt him twitch underneath me. Squeezing him on the inside, I slowed down but kept going, giving him something to watch and some nice friction as he wound down.

When his muscles unclenched and his face slackened to drowsy contentment, I stopped and laid on top of him. For several moments he hugged me, stroked the fur down my back, and kissed me. A lazy, comfortable play of muzzles and I melted into it.

Distant popping and clapping lifted my ears.

I peeked out of a window but didn't see anyone watching us. Light in the side-view mirror caught my eye, and I peered out the back window.

Jacob asked, "What is it?"

In the distance I saw the blossoming lights of fireworks.

"Nothing important," I said with a smile I rubbed into the line of his throat. But it felt like a sign of a job well done.

We parted and dressed, driving the rest of the way home. The chat was minimal. Jacob seemed relaxed and not self-conscious, but I could tell he was lost in thought or decompressing from everything. I didn't get the vibe he had illusions of a relationship between us; some clients got attached fast and hard and it was difficult every time. Others were ready to discard me along with the used condom. While not my type he was someone's, and I hoped he'd realize that one day.

In the quiet I mulled over what I did and what I was thinking of doing. I don't see any great nobility in what I do; I don't have that heart of gold, as the cliché says. But I want to try and meet the client's needs. He wanted to look good for his family, but underneath that I could see a hunger for acceptance and the intimate contact of someone else. He wanted to be wanted and liked, just like everyone else. That didn't come without something first though, and that I couldn't give him, only nudge him that way.

When we neared the hotel, I made my decision. "Jacob." His ears perked. "Doing this job, dealing with a lot of people, I've gotten good at reading them." Softening my voice and turning to face him, I asked, "You don't feel very good about yourself, do you?"

"What? No, no I feel fine," he said in the same tone he used when dodging the uncomfortable questions back at the barbeque.

"I think you have a low opinion of yourself. You shouldn't; you're sweet, and you make me feel comfortable." I reached out and laid my fingers on the back of his paw. "But I have the feeling you don't believe me. Some girls I know - they don't feel good about themselves at all, and no matter what they do, they still beat themselves up. They only see the bad. Until you're happy with yourself, nothing will truly make you happy."

He didn't respond, instead focusing on pulling into the parking lot beside my car. When he stopped, I nudged his muzzle so we could make eye contact. "I think you should talk to someone."

"Like a therapist?" He recoiled. "I'm not crazy."

"No, but they do more than that. They give you perspective. Fresh eyes on what's going on." I held back when I saw that expression that said he was thinking about it but leaning away. I couldn't ask him to do it for me, because I was going to disappear. But I wanted him to do it. When our eyes met, I leaned in and added, "It helped me when I needed it."

"Okay," he said, but I couldn't be sure he was convinced.

The discussion at least distracted him from one of those fumbling conversations at the end of the date. It gave me the window to end things casual and brisk. With a kiss to his cheek, I snagged my purse and slid out of the car. "Thanks for a good time."

"Good time?" He snorted. "Neither of us had fun back there."

"Oh, I didn't enjoy your family. But the time I spent with you?" I cranked up the wattage on my smile. "Have a good night, Jacob."

"I already did," he said as I climbed into my car.

I watched him drive away and smiled to myself.