Chapter 3 Five-Star Service

I cried for a while, and then I heard him say softly, "Your friend is right, you know. Find someone better, and you'll forget your ex." I looked up at him with tear-filled eyes as he continued, "If he's good-looking, find someone better-looking.He finds someone rich, you find someone richer. Would you still cry over losing him if you had a new boyfriend like that?" His voice was so seductive that it stopped my tears. I seriously considered his words. If I had such a boyfriend, would I still be upset about losing my ex? No, I'd be over the moon. "Probably not ... " I answered honestly. But finding a handsome and wealthy guy seemed as difficult as learning quantum physics. "See? Trust me, you'll find such a boyfriend," he said, his tone strangely believable despite the fantastical promise. Thanks to the alcohol, my thoughts were a bit sluggish. Suddenly, he turned my shoulders to face him directly, looking into my eyes. "We should do something more, don't you think? Just talking doesn't quite justify your friend's 150 bucks," he said with a husky laugh. Do something more? I wasn't sure what came next. In TV shows, aristocrats visiting brothels always started with some entertainment. "Why don't you perform a talent for me?" I said, looking up at him earnestly. "What?" He seemed puzzled. Was my request too much? In the movies, didn't they start with singing or dancing? I whispered, a bit embarrassed, "Do you have any talents? Singing, dancing, playing an instrument or anything else?" I watched his expression carefully. Although I was the one paying, his aura was a bit intimidating, and being close to him felt oppressive. Was this what they meant by "taking advantage over the customer"? He didn't look too pleased. I quickly added, "It's okay if you don't. A stand-up routine or a joke would work too." He gave me a complex look before pulling out his phone and stepping into the other room to make a call. The intense atmosphere lifted immediately. I exhaled a breath of relief and took the chance to examine the room. It felt like a hotel suite, but with personal touches. The layout and decor were high-end, but there were many personal items. What kind of person brings luggage to a bar? Maybe it wasn't a hotel but an apartment? I walked to the window and looked out. It seemed we were on the top floor of a hotel. Did he have a regular room here for his work? He must be elite in his field. His face and build could easily make him a top model. It's a shame he's in this line of work. With his looks, he could support himself as a professional model. My dad's company, which makes workwear, often needs models for catalog shoots. Maybe I could recommend him. Lost in my thoughts, I heard the door open. A hotel staff member handed him a long bag. "What's that?" I asked as he brought it inside. He gave me an amused glance, "You wanted a talent performance, didn't you? Here's one for you." "Oh," I said, smiling awkwardly. "Your service is great. No wonder you're so popular." He rolled his eyes at me and took a saxophone out of the bag. The quality of the instrument was evident from its gleaming surface and expert craftsmanship. I was surprised. Saxophones aren't as common as pianos and are quite expensive, along with the lessons. If he'd been learning this since childhood, he must come from a well-off family. Maybe he fell on hard times later. "So, you play the saxophone? How long have you been playing?" I asked cautiously. "I've been playing since I was little. Besides piano, I wanted to learn something different, so I chose the saxophone." Exactly as I thought. He must have faced some misfortunes. Selling talents is fine, but why resort to selling oneself too? In less than a minute, my imagination spun a tragic tale of a once-wealthy man fallen on hard times. "What would you like to hear?" he asked kindly. What a treat, I could even request a song. "Rivers of Babylon," I said, settling into an armchair as he took a seat on a high stool by the window and started playing. The music flowed smoothly, the saxophone's rich, mellow tones like dark chocolate melting in the air, captivating me. I may not play the sax, but with my advanced piano certification, I could tell good music from bad. Music, wine, a handsome man, and the night—seeing the large bed nearby, I couldn't help but feel tempted. Suddenly, heartbreak didn't seem so bad. With someone like him, I'd forget Colin completely. Listening to the live saxophone performance, I felt my heart flutter as if I were falling in love all over again. I gazed at his chiseled profile. His perfect jawline, the slight dimple on his chin, his high, straight nose—he looked almost otherworldly. He seemed to have a mixed heritage, like Yara. Could his mother have been abandoned by a foreign father too? My sympathy for him grew even more. As the song ended, he looked at me with deep, soulful eyes. His gaze held an intensity that made me feel as though he genuinely cared. But his words brought me back to reality. "Enjoyed the performance? Now, shouldn't we move on to the next part?" Why was he more eager than me? "The talent performance isn't extra, right?" I suddenly worried about additional charges. If there were, I'd blow my budget for the month. He replied seriously, "It's included. So can we move on to the next part now?" I had an inkling of what was to come, but I still asked dumbly, "What's the next part?" Without a word, he cupped the back of my head and kissed me. My past kissing experiences with Colin were less than stellar. The first time, his teeth clashed with my lips, leaving me bruised. The second time, his breath smelled of garlic butter oysters, making me gag. But this man made a simple kiss feel profound and intense—tender, passionate, and commanding. I almost believed I was his long-lost girlfriend of 20 years. With my head spinning, one thought emerged—This is worth every penny. As I neared the point of suffocation, he pulled back, smiling playfully, "Did you enjoy that? Remember to breathe." A feedback survey right now? Seriously? "I did ... 5 out of 5," I managed to say, though I was breathless. But I couldn't deny I was satisfied. "Glad to hear it. Let's continue," he said, his voice lower as his handsome face came close again. What followed was a night of both ecstasy and agony, heaven and hell woven together.