Her Office  

Posted by H in ,

G. doesn't want me to get involved with anything remotely related to her occupation. Thus the ban on nights out with some of her colleagues, as I discussed in "Her Pimp, My Nemesis".

She's happy (well... not so fast there) to share with me what she's doing in general, the way it works. Details about the organization of this business in general, in the various cities and countries she's been at it. The details that make me understand her, and I think the ones that make me worry about her less. Nice of her, really.

She's not too happy to share what happens during one of her jobs, of course, and I don't ask. Well sometimes I ask if she comes home depressed, and I don't really want to know and she doesn't want me to know but I'm just a good listener. Or she would do it without me asking if it was an enjoyable one and have fantasies about it. For instance, let's say she's hang up on threesomes with girls, and she'd had done that during the day, and I'd hear her ramble a while about it. Which I think is sort of healthy and amusing.


But she doesn't me to know details of where's she's worked, and for who she worked. Or is working.

She rarely tells me the names of the agencies she's been working for, for instance. I can understand it, actually. We've been going out for a while, but not that long that I would expect her to trust me with every tiny detail of ther life. Like Nya said in one of her posts, boyfriends don't need to know about your previous boyfriends and your other jobs, and that probably true. And also, that could severely compromise her anonymity. When I come to think of it, I realize that with what I know now, I could easily ruin her life, and I don't like this idea too much.

At the beginning I tried to encourage her, at the risk of it being odd and hurting her, not to trust me wit her secrets (even before I knew what she was doing). Maybe that's why she took so long to tell me, after all she was only following my advice. You never know what tomorrow will be made of, and how much you can rely on people you just met.

Hell, after I had been with her for 2 months, I still hadn't see her idea, she could have fake named me since the beginning, and told me stories of a childhood that wasn't hers. Lying is so easy, people shouldn't take things for granted.


So I respect her desire to be private and secretive about her job.

But there's also this part of me which worries about her, and also a damn habit I have of letting my brain run and never really disconnecting the wires.

I don't spy on her. Never did. Won't say never will, because I think everyone can turn into an ass, and so can I, but I definitely wouldn't want to right now.
I don't sneak around her papers, don't have a look at her phone, don't eavesdrop on her conversations.

But I couldn't help to pick bits and pieces up. From a phone conversation when I just walked into the room and she wasn't finished (I tend to leave the room when she's one the phone. I think as a couple I could overhear things and it should be OK, but it's much easier if I don't and she can come forward if she needs to talk to me), from a pay slip she just folded in her pocket and from which I saw the header as she did it. That sort of things.
Things you see or hear and immediately think you wished you hadn't because even though I try to forget them or to think about something else, your mind starts filling the gaps.
That's pretty much how I figured it all out, and I guess it doesn't take a Sherlock Holmes, nothing to be proud about.

That's also how I found about her office. Of course it could have been really easy, I could just have followed her, but like I said I have no reason to do such a thing.

But one day we were having a walk in the city and she needed to drop by her office for a reason without relevance here. She told me she didn't want me to know where it is (though I don't understand why) and it'd be nice if I could just wait here and she wouldn't be long.

I said sure and sat on the porch of the building we'd stop in front of. And she started walking down the street, so I walked up the porch to sit there and wait, thinking I'd be better off not looking where she was going. Though yes, in my mind a small machinery was thinking: "is it down this street ? How many blocks away ? What size is the office or the building ? You don't need much to run an agency so which of these buildings could host it ? I know them all... or is she really careful and going to turn at the next stop and follow a different path ?". This kind of stuff. I can't help it. Anyway, I snapped out of it quickly and started letting my mind wander about other things, chit-chatted with a guy asking me for a cigarette, called a friend. And waited.

And she was running late and called after a while to tell me it would still last 10 minutes. Considering with her it means at least 20, I decided to cross the street and get us some coffee. And when I crossed again with the coffees to take back position on the porch, I saw her coming out of a building from the corner of my eye. Couldn't miss her. She was 30 meters away. One block. And I thought "dammit" and "ohoh" and all.

Maybe she wanted me to know without telling me. She's often like this. Or maybe she wanted to check if I would spy on her, in which case I accidentally failed the test I guess, because maybe she saw me as I just walked back onto the porch, but apparently she didn't, and as she didn't want me to know where her office were, I didn't want to upset her and tell her she should have dropped me further away.


The good thing is, I know where the office is now, roughly. I doubt it's the whole building. I'm pretty sure it wouldn't be. Didn't check, never even had a look inside, or tried to get a sneak peak by walking on the opposite sidewalk on the numerous occasions I walk past it.
But I know the building. Which means I can find really easily the floor, the phone numbers, the people working their, and a lots of other stuff. And really quickly too.

And that makes me more confident too, because I know if she gets in trouble, or one night she doesn't come back from a job, I know where to go look for her or where and who to call, if not hospitals and police stations and friends.

And I'm pretty sure that's why she did it. To have me be her safety net without asking for it, and to calm my anxiety. She doesn't take jobs with any kind of risks, doesn't go to slag parties alone, and if it's not known territory the agency enforces security. But she's had problems a few times and learned her lessons.

She's more of a mastermind than she likes to show it.

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My Girlfriend is an Escort

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