Beck and Call Cowboy

Chapter One

But not just any man.  She needed Michael.  The problem was she didn't know a Michael.  

Reclining in her squeaky leather office chair, she rubbed her aching temples.  She rested her forehead against the cool cherry wood desk top and groaned, “Oh, Ellen, what am I going to do?” Her voice echoed against the newly oiled surface that smelled strongly of Pledge mixed with the ever-present antiseptic odor that no amount of air fresheners quite diminished. “I told Mother my date was ‘Michael.’”

Her nurse and long-time friend Ellen shrugged.  "Tell your mother you lied and then refuse to be sucked into her matchmaking demands and go to the ball by yourself, Cinderella."

Addison raised her chin from the desk and glared at her friend.  "Yeah, right, but my mother isn’t like other mothers."  

The truth hurt.  Nelda Clark was...intimidating, domineering and a general pain in the ass, and normally Addison did ignore her.  But this was a ball, and she was tired of not having a date, someone she actually liked instead of some bozo her mother thought “appropriate.”  

"The Blairs are going to be there,” Addison pointed out, “and of course, their 35-year-old daughter has a date with the most eligible bachelor in town.  Mother is relentless at not being shown up."

“Showing up the Blairs? That’s not at all like you.  What is the real reason?”

Ellen knew her too well.  “The Blair’s most eligible bachelor happens to be Richard.”  She sighed heavily.  She’d thought Richard was different, even though he was an attorney and her mother had fixed them up.  

After nearly eighteen months of dating, Richard had called her the “ice princess.”  Addison wanted to tell him that knee weakening, thawing kisses did not include having her chin licked.  The next night she caught Richard snuggled up with her nemesis, Cindy Blair--sucking on her chin like it was a lollipop.  

“Mr. Dick himself? You’ve got to be kidding.”  Ellen leaned forward and patted Addison’s outstretched arm.  “You’re better off without him.”

“I know that, and I’m glad to be rid of him.”  Addison sighed, lacing her fingers through her hair.  “What about female pride?  Honestly though, I’d love to one-up that Blair woman and Richard. Now that would be entertaining.”

“Oh yeah,” a definitely amoral smile danced across Ellen’s lips, “now we’re talking my language.  Vengeance is mine, thus saith the women.”

“It’s not all about vengeance.”

“It’s not?”  

“Very funny.  Besides, bringing my own date might stop the never-ending flow of blind dates.”  

For a brief, but blissful, while.

“You're right.  You are in a bind."  A sly smile slid across Ellen's freckled face.  "Truth is you can't miss this ball, Cinderella--you're one of the speakers! Yet the chances of finding a ‘Michael’ on a Saturday in less than four hours are about as likely as you and your mother ever getting along, so why not call an escort service?"  

“Escort service?  You’ve got to be kidding.”  Listening to Ellen’s advice only asked for trouble.  Ellen had been her best friend since high school.  Where Addison was serious and focused, Ellen was not so serious, always laughing, but still as focused as Addison, which is exactly why they remained such good friends.  This wouldn’t be the first time her friend had led her astray with her crazy ideas, especially in the man department, and it wouldn’t be the last.

So why did she continue to listen, when deep inside she knew she should run the other way?  Was it desperation?  Loneliness?  Her mother?

All of the above.

“Oh, Addy, why don’t you just lighten up and give yourself permission to have fun?”  A determined Ellen marched past the array of Addison’s pediatric medical certificates and diplomas mounted on the wall toward the bookshelf in the corner.  She grabbed the Denver Yellow Pages and tossed the book in front of Addison, where it landed with a thud.  "Make a phone call, girlfriend.  You’ll get one man at your fingertips, a jealous nemesis and ex-boyfriend, and your mother off your back.  What do you have to lose?"  She jammed her hands on her hips before making her way toward the hall.  "Think about it, Addy.  You might even enjoy your evening.  Now, I have to run and get decked out for your big night with Mr. Beck and Call.”  

Dumbfounded, Addison stared as the door clicked firmly behind Ellen.  If only she had a magic wand and, abracadabra, a tall, dark and handsome Michael would appear--and her mother would disappear.  All she needed was a date for one evening, no strings attached.   

Not as easy to admit was that little part of her that really wanted to find someone to share this night with.  A real man, a man that could kiss, and certainly not the personality-lacking kind her mother found for her, like Richard.  She shuddered at the thought of another gynecologist blind date that never looked her in the eye.

She glanced warily at the yellow pages and sighed.  Oh, what the hell.  Ellen was right.  What did she have to lose?

Before she had time to change her mind, she flipped open the phone book.  She found the section, closed her eyes and pointed her finger.  Glancing at the page, she dialed the number in front of her before she could change her mind.  

The female voice at the other end answered, “Denver’s Finest Beck and Call Service, may I help you?”

Addison smothered a laugh with her hand.  With a name like that, how more encouraged could she be?  Common sense told her to hang up immediately, but the certainty of her mother's continued nagging weighed heavily in her decision to stay on the line.  A relatively small price to pay.

“May I help you?”  The woman was irritatingly friendly.

“U-uh, well, I--um--need—“  Great.  Prominent medical scholar transforms into a bumbling idiot.

“Yes, ma’am, you require an escort?”  

Addison took a deep breath.  “I need Michael.” Way to go, Addy, sound even more bumbling.  And desperate.  If she hadn’t rambled on to her mother and mentioned the first name that popped into her head, perhaps she wouldn’t have to be so darn picky!  “I mean--his name needs to be Michael.”

“Quite all right, ma’am.   Our boys will answer to any name.  Let me assure you though that this is a professional business, a perfectly legitimate business.  No hanky-panky, if you know what I mean.”

“Of course not.” Hanky panky hadn’t even crossed her mind.  Was she really an ice princess?  She swallowed hard and forced herself to continue by switching into her automatic "doctor mode” and disengaged preconceived personal notions of good-looking scantily dressed escorts that had only one thing on their mind:  hanky panky.  

“I need an escort for the St. Jude’s Charity Ball tonight.”  Good Lord, I might as well ask for a fairy godmother.  She did the mental hand slap.  “I apologize for the short notice.   Unfortunately, I mentioned to my mother that my date’s name is 'Michael.’”  Addison forced a laugh, but the woman on the other end of the phone apparently had little sense of humor.

“Not a problem, ma’am.  Truly, our escorts will be anyone you want.  After all, you’re the one paying.  Would you prefer an hourly rate or would you rather reserve the entire evening?  For your convenience, we accept all major credit cards.”

Naturally.  Addison listened as the woman read all the appropriate disclaimers, cautions and no-nos.  “Okay, now tell me how much.” She nearly choked on the answer.  Need had suddenly rang up a dollar value.  "That's per hour, with a three hour minimum, plus tip?  How much for the entire night?"  

Did she hear that correctly?  For that price tag, hanky-panky should be included.  Add that to the price of the ticket to the function.  At least, the ticket was a charitable tax deduction.  Maybe she could chalk her date off as business entertainment.  Wouldn’t her business manager love that?

"Ma'am, may I reserve your ‘Michael’ for the entire evening or an hourly basis?  Will you be paying with cash or credit?”

Sucking in a calming breath, Addison gave the woman her credit card number and ordered ‘Michael’ for the entire night.  She didn’t want the clock to strike midnight and her farce be exposed.

Email me to discuss publishing this book.