Who: Desmond and 'April'
What: An ... appointment
Where: On the phone, then Demond's flat
Oh Merlin, he bloody hated this sort of thing. He was really quite good at handling stress most of the time (two ministers dying over as many years, anyone?), but when it came to April ... things were different. They always had been.
Yes, it was because she was a prostitute - because it made things more difficult to have to sneak around in order to not worry about his
reputation, but also because he still wasn't sure how she felt about him.
After all, it would be easy for her to consider him a client and nothing more...or a client that had a weird crush on her that she wanted to ignore but couldn't because he still ended up
paying. And purebloods thought they had expensive girlfriends...he frowned and picked up his phone, dialing in her number with a flick of his finger and drumming his hand on the table while he waited for her to pick up. Thank Merlin she was a squib - it made using the phone easier than owls.
Ring, ring...Laying on her back, Skylar (or, April as she was known by her job and her clients) kept her legs crossed, her toe bouncing to the sound of the music that was playing on her stereo. Incense was lit all around her room, since a joint was still burning between her pointer and middle finger. It was a rare occasion for her to be able to enjoy the little things in life, since she was rarely ever at home. At least not at this time, when she actually
wanted to be home. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had slept in her own bed, and thought tonight would be the night…
…and then her phone rang.
The phone, the one that was in her room that got all of her work calls. She groaned, and put her roach in the ashtray, blowing the smoke out the window as she reached over to lazily grab her phone, twirling the wire with her hand as she gently cleared her throat. “…April Anderson, at your service.” She smirked as she spoke, her voice low and sultry.
At least she'd answered, which meant she wasn't going to be busy tonight as far as he could tell. Desmond wouldn't admit out loud how relieved he was, but it was apparent in the eagerness in his voice. "Hi, April! It's Desmond." As if she didn't know that from his voice already - he wasn't sure why he'd even said that. Maybe she even recognized his number by now ... or maybe not.
He flexed his fingers and tried to relax his hand against the tabletop. "I was wondering if you had some time tonight ... you know, for me." Because the new minister was extremely demanding, and he'd put on his best gown already and that hadn't helped - so he'd changed into his plain clothes again and picked up the phone in hopes that he'd be able to catch April. He didn't talk freely to most people, even his friends, but he felt more relaxed around April since he'd been ... 'seeing' her for so long.
The second she had heard that voice, she knew who she was speaking to. She smiled against the telephone receiver, her finger twirling around the phone cord. “Hello, Desmond!” It was sort of a relief, that if the phone were to ring, it would be one of her regulars and not some new guy that she didn’t know. At least she was familiar with where she was going…and at least she was really fond of the man who was calling her. She didn’t know how she felt about Desmond, but to her…their relationship was strictly professional. He did talk to her about a lot of things, but so did many of the other men who required her, uh…services. It was complicated, but she made a habit of never dating her clients.
“Of
course I have time for you, baby.” She giggled a little, and sat upright, pulling her legs up close to her chest. “How much time would you like, hon? I don’t have any plans until tomorrow morning, so I’m all yours until then…if you want me to be.” She smirked again, and rose to her feet, moving over to her drawers to pick out what she would change into, for when she saw him.
"Well..." Nevermind that most of his salary after living expenses went to the woman he was currently on the phone with, "Until tomorrow morning. Yes, that would be ... good." Because if he didn't relax soon, he was fairly sure he was going to end up in St. Mungo's...whether in the psychiatric wing or the ward they kept wizards who'd gone into cardiac arrest. He smiled, allowing himself to relax a little.
"I could make dinner..." Since it would probably be at least a few minutes until she got over. He never expected her to come instantaneously - that would have been silly. Desmond didn't want to upset her in the least, so he tried not to put too much pressure on her ... for anything. Sure, it was her
job to have sex with him, but if she was really not in the mood that night (which was a rare occasion indeed, but probably why she was so good at her job) then he didn't force her.
Another smile formed, and she nodded as though he could see her before responding verbally. “I’m glad you think so.” Her hands skimmed through some of her tops. She paused momentarily when he spoke again, and she made a quiet humming noise, as though she were thinking about it. “Well…only if you’re hungry. I haven’t eaten a thing all day, but don’t go through all that trouble just for me. But, if you
do make dinner…is there any particular way you’d like me to dress?” A few of her regulars wanted her to dress nicer, depending on what they would be doing, or if she were to meet them somewhere. A lot of her clients didn’t like people knowing that they had hired a call girl to be there date somewhere, so she had a few nicer dresses that covered up the sexy unmentionables she wore beneath them.
"I just want you to be comfortable," he assured her with a slight smile. "You don't need to wear anything special - you know you always look lovely no matter what." And it wasn't as if he cared about clothes all that much anyway. "I'll figure something out for dinner at least, if you haven't eaten." He didn't want her to wither away to nothing, after all. That just would not do. "You can just come over to my place. Nothing fancy." What he really wanted was a quiet night at home, and if he'd had a girlfriend of course he'd call her instead -- but the thing was that he
wanted her to be his girlfriend, as unfeasible as that was.
A smirk crept across her lips as he complimented her. “You’re such a sweetheart, Desmond.” It wasn’t very often that men said she looked ‘lovely’. Most called her ‘hot’, or ‘sexy’, or…something completely inappropriate, but he always treated her with respect, despite her career choice. Not that it was really a choice she was proud of, but…she needed the money, and it paid well. Before this, she had been living in an apartment that could be considered a
closet in some places. Now, she was living a bit more comfortably…but what she had to do to obtain this comfort wasn’t something she was always thrilled about.
“I won’t keep you waiting too long. I’m just going to hop into a quick shower, throw on some clothes -
comfortable clothes, to be more specific – and drive over to your place. This would normally be the point in the conversation where I’d ask for the address, but…I have yours memorized.” She was definitely over there enough to know where she was going.
"That sounds good to me! I'll see you in a few, then." He didn't ask her exactly what time she was coming over because that seemed a bit silly - he was just glad that he'd been able to catch her for tonight before someone else called and stole her away from him. He was unbearably jealous of all the other men he was sure that she saw on a regular basis, but he tried not too hard to think about them so he wouldn't be tempted to ask.
Since he didn't want to waste any more time, he muttered a slightly awkward 'goodbye' and then placed the phone back on its cradle. He was still stupidly excited for all this as he often was, but he had a dinner to make!
