Groundhog Day…

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Do you ever have days where everything goes wrong? Whether you forgot to switch the hot water on, so you wake up to a cold shower, or your phone freezes when you’re trying to return an important phone call. Well, I am having one of those 24 hours.

Let me take you back to where it all began:

06:00 hours today – I wake up in a plush hotel room with my client for the evening/overnight. We had been out to a Japanese restaurant in Knightsbridge and taken a stroll in the August evening air afterwards back to the hotel. Well, nearly… my client is a regular of mine, and we have been on many dinner and hotel dates without a hitch until now,

23:00 hours last night – I was not feeling right after coming out of the Japanese restaurant, but to not disappoint my client, I agreed to a stroll arm-in-arm back to the hotel, which by usual standards was not far away. By feeling terrible standards, it seemed like 100 miles. I felt sick and quite dizzy and had to give in to my pride and tell my client that I was not feeling quite well, so he didn’t think me rude at mumbling my responses half-heartedly as he discussed his current ventures. He was the complete gentleman I know him to be, and promptly called his driver to take us the remaining distance to the hotel.

23:20 hours – Upon arriving at the 5* establishment, the hot and cold waves of nausea overtook me, and I could not control my reflux any longer as I stumbled past the blooming shrub outside reception and watered it with Ise Eb! My lovely client didn’t even bat an eyelid at my decorating the £4,000 marble-boxed plant. He just brushed my hair back and helped me up the steps, past the completely gobsmacked maitre’d and steered me carefully to the lift up to our suite. He was a complete angel and super sympathetic, as every half an hour or so, I would rush to the stunning en suite to unload more of my Asian delights.

Fast forward to 06:00 hours today – I am feeling fine now. I creep to the bathroom to scrub everywhere (my body and the tiles) and hope to salvage what I and my client missed out on last night.

07:00 hours – I am gleaming and smelling gorgeous, so I pop into the bedroom to show my client that I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye correctly. Still, he was already up and getting dressed, informing me of a crucial meeting he had to go to in Canary Wharf. So, no make-up on, and I leave feeling sheepish.

08:00 hours – I return to my apartment, which is like an oven. My heating has done something crazy, so I have to call someone out, and of course, they can’t give me a time, so I have to wait all day and re-schedule another client, George, for our shopping and lunch date.

Noon – Still no sign of the repair man, so I’m sitting in this sauna I used to call home, and I receive a text from Jordan, my evening’s client. It read…

“HI BABE, SO LOOKING FORWARD TO TONIGHT. THINKING NO TO THE ITALIAN RESTAURANT IN CHELSEA B4 THE SHOW AND YES TO THE JAPANESE PLACE IN KNIGHTSBRIDGE. I’M DESPERATE TO GO…WILL BOOK NOW. SEE YOU THIS EVENING GORGEOUS X”

I cry…

So, no matter how many fabulous dates I go on or how lucky I am in my 24-hour London escort world, I feel like I am experiencing Groundhog Day. Help!

Our girls love a bit of planning

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Now I’m not being biased, but I must say I do have some damn good ideas when it comes to pleasing my clients and those of my colleagues. I have been known to wow my guys on my own, which has fed back to my peers, who have asked me for advice on all sorts of things. Whether the 24-hour Companions is a bit of a newbie or even those who have been with the company for a long time, I get pounced on when we have our monthly catch-ups, and no more so than the one we had today.

One of the team’s newer members, a sultry Blonde, asked me not only for advice but to join in on her big client date. Dan, the client in question, is a regular of everybody’s! He loves women, and in his eyes, the more, the merrier. He also likes to have a mix-up from week to week, so he may book you twice a month and then not call you for a few months. So when you have a date with him, it’s essential to keep his interest and make him return for more. “Dan” is an international playboy in his spare time and must have a few girls in every city. I accompanied him to what he initially described as a business meeting in New York, followed by a cocktail party in the Waldorf Astoria Hotel. However, this meant Dan’s private ‘cocktail ‘party with two other 24-hour escorts while he watched us.

So, my platinum friend asked me to devise a plan to wow, astound, and wear him out. He has booked a suite in one of Knightsbridge’s classiest hotels and has given her a budget of…whatever she wants. So, we decided to go shopping and talk as we shop. We’re women; we can multi-task!

Dan is 42, gorgeous, loves women and money, has power, and owns 14 businesses ranging from fashion to a successful restaurateur with his beautiful dining room in Sloane Square, looking out on Tiffany and Links. He is a busy man, so I wanted to pamper him so he wouldn’t have to lift a finger unless we placed something strategically in his hand’s direction, and he wouldn’t have to move too much to touch it. So we went to Harrods to buy some sumptuous champagne, chocolate truffles and other luxury goodies to spoil the over-testosteroned male!

He won’t know what hit him after we finally stopped to look at our purchases and gave each other a well-deserved high five. We will be sure to keep you posted.

Food for thought…

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Most of the time, my clients want me to be well-turned out, svelte, sexy and, well… arm candy.

I sport all my finest labels (usually within at least two seasons of purchase unless it’s vintage, of course), making sure my hair is tousled and my make-up subtle. Above everything else, I want to look good for me.

So when a client asks me to wear something I wouldn’t mind ruining, I have all sorts of visions. Extreme sports? Quad-biking? Mud wrestling…? Well, maybe not the latter, as that would usually involve two London escorts and a rather skimpy bikini. So, I went for clothes I typically wear when I decorate and tied my hair up in a messy ponytail. It went against all my principles, but when clients call, they call the shots.

I arrived at his sumptuous Kensington apartment bang on eleven o’clock. Usually, my clients can hear my stilettos from a mile away, but wearing pumps meant I arrived unannounced. Jasper answered my knock promptly and showed me through his hallway to a large white room right at the back. The walls were as stark as the tiled floor, and there was a giant dust sheet covering most of the sparse furniture. Set up at the window was a tripod with a long-lens camera being tended to by a trendy young man; Jasper introduced him as his wingman, Mark.

The thing that concerned me the most was there was a long table on the left-hand side of the room. On this table were creamy cakes and tall blancmanges, all decorated with strawberries, cream and icing. They wouldn’t have looked out of place on a hostess trolley at The Dorchester; Jasper stuck his finger into one of them and licked the digit clean. “Perfect,” he said. Suddenly, a light bulb went off in my head. I looked first from Mark, looking through the lens and adjusting his shot, to Jasper, who was watching me. With a grin, I went to one of the blancmanges and took a fistful. I lobbed it at Jasper, and the flash went off on Mark’s camera. With almost a guttural scream of joy, my client dived for the table and its contents. Within a few minutes, there was a full-scale food fight going on.

I was covered from head to toe in sponge, cream filling and jam. The floor, walls and even the ceiling had an uneven coating of patisserie goodness. I should have brought a shower cap as a whole trifle upended over my brunette locks. I felt a triple shampoo and condition coming on when I got home.

The only thing I should have had the foresight on was a change of clothes! Thankfully, Jasper lent me a pair of joggers and a jumper for my journey back to Mayfair. But my oh my, what fun!

Beauty and Brains

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One of the things I love about my job is the wide variety of men I meet.

It’s not all about the looks. It’s not always about the clothes or money. It’s sometimes about the brains, and a lot of the time, that is attractive in itself.

I enjoy talking about politics or the current economic crisis to exercise my brain. Some clients want to have dinner and drinks and discuss current affairs or business with the company of their chosen London escorts. The model looks and designer dresses couldn’t be further from their minds when they took me for a fantastic meal at one of London’s finest eateries. It’s only when we return to their luxury apartments or hotel suites that they want the topic of conversation to switch from intellect to innuendo.

It’s not so much a challenge for me to discuss the worries of the world. I’m an intelligent woman, and, rarely, I don’t keep up to date with the news to understand what the world is up to of late, so this evening’s date with Patrick for dinner and a trip to the theatre will be a fabulous evening of canny discussions and topical debates. Patrick doesn’t want a cheap escort, so he chooses me.

Patrick, although broadly intelligent and prone to the occasional heated exchange, is very witty and great company. He does like me to look as model-perfect as I can with feminine beauty and subtle girly flirting but also to give him a genuine, unscripted run for his money.

Patrick is an intelligent and successful businessman. He is a multi-millionaire and is only based in London once or twice every six months due to his unbelievably busy schedule, flying to Hong Kong and Dubai immediately to expand his ever-growing empire. But when he is lucky enough to have some “me-time”, he never forgets to give me a call to relax. Even if he requests my company to go shopping or to have lunch, we always end up in a friendly debate but always manage to put those differences to the side when we come together to be very agreeable in his beautiful London home.

So, for me, it’s not about the classic Chanel separates and hair tied in a bun, glasses on the end of my nose ensemble to look intelligent. I know I can dress to impress and still hold my own in a mind battle.

I am acutely aware that my model looks to wow my date, but when it’s required. I can be beautiful with what’s inside my perfectly plucked, dyed and made-up head, too.

Dedication is what you need

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When you have regular clients who need to re-book you for specific functions, you have to keep on your toes and bring change into the ‘relationship’ more than ever. I always attend Scott’s work/family/social arrangements as his girlfriend, but to keep the booking, I have to keep him interested just as you would in an actual relationship. This is why I’m single. These things are hard work.

Scott is a 40-something gazillionaire who loves to keep up appearances. He lets his staff run his hotel empire and reaps the rewards by holidaying on his private island, lounging in his luxury mansion in Hampstead and shopping in New York for the afternoon. He uses me as his long-term girlfriend stand-in. In reality, he has no interest in making a relationship with someone he doesn’t know and who may only be after his money. In my mind, it’s classic real commitment issues, but what do I know? I’m a London escort, not a psychologist! So, he takes me to work functions, family weddings, press nights, and the works, but he also brings me shopping to cater to such arrangements, and that’s why, to keep this gig, I need to up my game.

As you know, I’m a very proud brunette, but when he mentions that he finds a particular blonde celebrity attractive, I crack out my favourite Barbie wig and act out any fantasy he wants. He loves the fact that he doesn’t even have to ask. Sometimes, when you spend a lot of time with a client, you do pick up on certain things. Whether they like olives, whether they prefer Gucci to Dior, whether they book a hotel more in Mayfair than in Knightsbridge and whether they respond in pleasure at being tickled just under the…

With Scott, we have a great partnership. I have even wrapped his very protective Mother around my little finger. Little does she know that boy is having a faux relationship with a top call girl! We have learned to walk in time with one another, laugh at the same things and finish each other’s sentences. We have been on many dinner and drink dates to get to know each other in such a way.

What can I say? I’m a dedicated woman.