The Best Thousand Dollars I Ever Spent

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3-7 Available On

PLEASE NOTE: This is a preview of this novella. It is available for purchase in its entirety via

CHAPTER TWO

Brad spent the next morning being shown around the various departments and offices in which Amalgamated's Cleveland operation was housed. Brad worked his magic with various people and left a trail of happy employees in his path. Josh trailed along, watching how it was done.

"You really do care about people, don't you?" he said at one point.

"They're who make you look good." said Brad simply.

Josh invited Brad out to lunch at another fancy restaurant, but Brad insisted on eating in the company cafeteria, where he sat with and talked to three of the janitorial staff, telling jokes and listening to several comments and complaints.

As they left the cafeteria Josh's phone went off and he answered it. He listened and then said "You're kidding. She said that? OK.. I'll tell him. Yeah, I'll call you right back if there's a problem. OK, I love you." He turned to Brad. That was Julie. Jasmine agreed to escort you tonight, but there are a couple of conditions."

"Conditions?"

"Yeah. Julie just said to tell you what they were and for me not to ask any questions. If you don't want to do it, then I'm supposed to call her back."

"What conditions?" asked Brad.

"First of all, it's costing you a thousand dollars."

Brad nodded. He wasn't surprised.

"Second, you have to wear a charcoal colored single breasted suit instead of a tux. Oh, and your cuff links or other jewelry cannot be gold colored."

Brad nodded again. For enough money a suit could be tailor-made in three or four hours.

"And lastly, you're to keep your mouth shut." Josh looked helplessly at Brad.

"About what?" asked Brad, intrigued despite himself.

"She didn't say. Julie said she asked the same question, but all Jasmine would say is that you have to promise to keep your mouth shut. Maybe she means about Amalgamated ... like she's afraid you're going to try to change her mind or something."

"How strange." said Brad. This wasn't the way the average high class hooker behaved. "What the hell? I'm in. I haven't had a date for quite a while. Maybe she'll challenge me enough to make it interesting."

Josh sighed. "Julie said you're supposed to pick us up in the limo. She arranged it all with George. Sometimes I wonder if I did the right thing." He was obviously referring to marrying a former call girl.

"You did the perfect thing, as far as I can tell." said Brad. "You did the perfect thing, Josh."

Brad had George take him to a little shop George knew about and he ordered the suit. It would be delivered to his hotel room by six thirty. Then Brad made some grip and grin calls in the afternoon, meeting with the Mayor and a few other politicians who appreciated the jobs and revenue that Amalgamated was creating in the city. After that he surprised George again by inviting the whole family out to an early dinner that evening. George made a call and talked quietly for a few minutes before hanging up. He looked a little uncertain. "She was reluctant. Riding herd on all the kids in a restaurant is a chore," he said. But she said to call back and tell her where we'll be and she'll meet us."

"Nonsense" said Brad. "You're my guests. Have the kids ever ridden in the limo?"

"Not a chance." said George. "They pester me about it all the time, but I know better."

"Well today they get their chance." said Brad. "I'll square it with your employer." Brad made a phone call of his own, which George didn't hear.

To be honest, it WAS pandemonium when the limo pulled up to George's house and the whole clan came screaming out, followed by an obviously frazzled Claudette. George was mobbed by all his rug rats.

Brad helped get all the kids strapped into the seats and called up an address to George. "One more stop" he said to Claudette, who was nervously watching the children to make sure they didn't damage anything.

George scratched his head, but drove to the address, which had nothing to do with eating. There was a group of five women standing on the curb waiting.

Brad told him to stop and let the women in. "I'd like you to meet your babysitters for the evening." said Brad. I arranged for them through my company. They'll each take a child so you two can relax. The women climbed in and there was a disorganized game of choosing which woman would go with each child. Both the women and the children negotiated until everybody, meaning the kids, were happy.

"Pufferbelly's, George" announced Brad. There were shouts of approval from the kids.

It was a great time for all of them. The children got to play on the trains and fire fighting equipment Pufferbelly's was famous for, as well as choose whatever they wanted for dinner. George and Claudette were nervous at first, but the nannies, and whatever child they were tending, checked in frequently with them. Soon it became obvious that the children were in good hands and the adults got to enjoy their own food.

When it was all over Brad got a kiss from Claudette. "You're a nice man," she said, being a woman of few words. Then she herded the kids back into the house and Brad went back to the hotel to get ready for the party that night.

George picked Brad up at eight. There had been a change in plans, and Josh and Julie were already in the limo. Julie looked fabulous, in another gown that had been tailor made for her pregnant body. It glistened in the interior lights of the car and was cut so low between her breasts that the top of the bulge made by her baby was visible. Brad could see the undersides of her bountiful breasts, and they weren't sagging much. The material of the gown was thin as well, and her nipples showed prominent bumps through it. She wore a diamond choker and her hair was up, with glistening diamond pins in it to hold it in place. He felt a tightness in his groin as she smiled at him.

"You should save those kinds of looks for your date, Brad," she said as she batted her eyelashes at him, teasing.

"If my date looks half as good as you do I may not make it through the night," he said back.

Josh just beamed. He was proud to be with this woman and it showed. "Jasmine is almost as beautiful as my lovely bride," he said, looking sideways at Julie, quite obviously at her breasts.

"Jasmine has always made me look like a hag." complained Julie, but she smiled.

"Well she has interesting rules." said Brad. He had fifty crisp hundred dollar bills in the inside pocket of his new suit. Ten of them were for Jasmine. The rest were for contingencies. You never knew for sure what an evening would entail when you were with a girl like Julie and her former peers.

"I had to talk hard to get her to come." said Julie. "You'd better be nice tonight. My reputation is riding on you."

"I'm honored that you have such faith in me." said Brad.

"I'm a fair judge of character." said Julie, making it a compliment. "And Jasmine knows that. When I told her you were OK she said she'd trust me, but would reserve judgment on an Amalgamated bigwig until she actually spends some time with you."

It was a short drive to one of the other fine hotels in town. Brad knew that a lot of the higher class call girls lived in hotels, but if Jasmine lived in this one, she was very high class indeed. When they arrived Julie jumped for the door before George could even get his opened, and she dashed toward the long red carpet that led to the entrance of the hotel. "Be right back!" she yelled.

The dichotomy of a woman dressed as well as Julie was, and pregnant to boot, sprinting along the red carpet like a little girl, made both men laugh. The doorman, a silver-haired gentleman of at least sixty, looked up with a frown, but his face creased into a grin as Brad heard him call Bunny's name. She crashed into the liveried man, giving him a hug that pressed her baby well against his stomach. He protested, and pushed her back, as a good doorman would do, but it was clear they were glad to see each other. She took his hand and put it on her swollen abdomen. The men in the car heard her say "Feel! Isn't it just WONDERFUL?!"

"That's one of the things I love about her." said Josh. "She's just so full of life. She makes everything into a game about being happy and loving people.

Brad felt tears trying to build up in his eyes. That was how Elizabeth had been. She had loved everything and everybody, almost never seeing the down side of anything. His vision blurred a little as he blinked away the tears. He left his hands in his lap. No sense letting a subordinate know that he was an emotional boob.

It was for that reason - the half formed tears in his eyes - that when Brad saw two women walking toward the limo he couldn't see them as well as he'd have liked. One was Julie. Her form made that obvious. She was arm-in-arm with another slightly taller woman and they were walking in step. They walked in that gait that runway models use, a long stride that makes everything move on them and draws the attention of everyone within sight.

The other woman had raven black hair that hung straight to the tops of her buttocks. It had to weigh four pounds, even though the wind created by their ground-covering walk made it fan out behind her a little. She was wearing high heels and a dress that looked for all the world like it had been liquid at some point and was poured carefully onto her shoulders. Then it had flowed down, covering most of her breasts, to mold itself to her flat stomach and hips that swelled suddenly outwards to become the base for long slim legs. The dress ended in an uneven hem, made up of strips of flimsy cloth that fluttered as she walked. Both women looked like any two young up-and-coming twenty-somethings, their hips rising and falling like those of a hunting cat as they strode confidently toward the limo. There was no girlishness about Julie now. She was all grown up, and she and the woman with her were the very picture of sexuality. That Julie was pregnant, and the other woman's stomach was board flat just set each of them off in their own way. Both were beautiful in the way that feminists just hated, because all little girls dreamed of looking like that, even though most had no hope.

Brad couldn't decide whether to watch Julie's bobbing breasts, or those of his date. His date's dress didn't cut quite as low as Julie's, but it went to the bottom of her breasts and then scooped widely out, turning into spaghetti straps that went up and over her shoulders. The gown was various shades of blue, some going to gray, which explained why she had specified his suit be charcoal colored. Her dress would be set off by his suit like she was on display, not that any man would be concentrating on the dress. Her breasts, too, lifted and fell as her stride lifted them and then fell away, letting them drop. They didn't so much bounce as jiggle delightfully. She obviously wasn't wearing a bra, and the dress was so flimsy that it didn't have the strength to control her breasts.

There was a little breeze and her long hair flowed away from her body a little. It was like a cape. She suddenly stopped and turned, waving at the doorman, who was standing there with a smile on his face a mile wide. There wasn't a man in the world who wouldn't smile as he watched these women walk. "I may be late." her tinkling soprano voice called to the man old enough to be her grandfather. "I don't know for sure yet."

Brad blinked. There was no back to her dress. Literally, the spaghetti straps came over her shoulders and fastened to the sides of the dress under her arms where it wrapped around her sides. But those sides did not come together across her back. Rather they dipped down so low that you could see the crack of her ass, or could if her hair wasn't covering it. No bra, and no panties either. Sex might be optional, but she was dressed for the occasion if it arose.

Her statement to the doorman had not been necessary either. She was letting Brad know that nothing was a sure thing about tonight.

Brad blinked again as the women started to climb into the limo, George now tending the door for both of them. Brad knew he'd be treated to hanging breasts in dresses that weren't designed for bending over, and he wanted to be able to see them, Julie's included.

"Good evening George." said Brad's date, obviously familiar with him like Julie was.

"Good evening Miss Jasmine" he said. "It's always good to have you riding along."

There was something about her voice that made Brad's ears perk up. And, when she entered the limo, she did indeed show off just about everything she had. The dress fell away from full breasts, dark nippled. Those nipples were long and looked erect to Brad. The woman was excited. Brad had a quick glimpse of dangling silver earrings and a necklace that had a dark blue stone in it as big as a hen's egg, surrounded by silver and diamonds. She began to settle herself beside him as Julie climbed in. Brad grabbed one quick glimpse of Julie's breasts and then turned his attention to Jasmine.

It was then that things clicked in his mind. He suddenly knew why Jasmine hated Amalgamated. And he knew why he was required to keep his mouth shut tonight ... and what he was required to keep his mouth shut about.

Jasmine ... his beautiful sexy date ... a thousand-dollar-a-night hooker ... was, in reality, Samantha Tarkenton, his daughter.

You couldn't tell it from the way she acted. "Good evening Brad ... I'm Jasmine." She held out one slim, manicured hand. Training brought his own hand up and he touched his daughter for the first time in five years.

"I'm truly astonished." he managed to say.

Julie giggled. "I told you she put me to shame."

The ride to the hall was a dark, mist-filled time for Brad, as he tried to wrap his mind around the events unfolding around him. There was chatter between Julie and Jasmine, with Josh chiming in occasionally. He had obviously met ... perhaps even ... well, suffice it to say Josh knew Jasmine. Brad wasn't sure how he felt about what Josh and Jasmine may have done together.

He knew he commented about something, though he had no idea what it was, or what he had said. Both women laughed, though, and he felt a strange warmth in his chest as Jasmine's smile lit up the inside of the car. Otherwise he was silent as thoughts and emotions chased themselves around in his mind, like ghosts he couldn't quite see, but knew were there.

Julie noticed. She looked at him strangely, as if she didn't understand what kind of man she was seeing. "I know she's beautiful Brad, but I didn't think you'd be struck dumb."

Jasmine's laugh tinkled. "We'll have plenty of time to talk later, when he gets more used to me. Brad probably hasn't been around a woman like me much before." She turned to Brad and her eyes nailed him to the seat. "Have you Brad? I'd imagine you have more dates with ... secretaries ... or perhaps women introduced to you by colleagues ... isn't that right ... Brad?"

Brad woke up enough to hear the daggers in that simple suggestion. "Not any more," he said heavily. "Not for a long time."

Jasmine laughed again. "Goody. I just love being with a man who hasn't ... dated ... for a long time." That brought a giggle from Julie too.

The limo was rolling to a stop in front of another long red carpet. Brad was beginning to get himself back under control. He took Jasmine's hand and said "Well, then, I'm sure you'll have a fabulous time tonight." That brought a laugh from Josh and a long drawn out "Ooooooo" from Julie.

Jasmine didn't say a word.

She did, however, let him get out first, and help her out, and she took his arm and matched her steps to his as they walked toward the hall where, Brad realized, they'd spend the next few hours together. That it was under circumstances where everyone would believe they were an important man and his lovely date, rather than a father and his lovely daughter, would make it interesting, if nothing else. Brad knew full well that she would have the opportunity to make a fool of him in front of important people. There was every likelihood that there would be women and men at this affair who knew her, and what she did for a living. She could simply announce who she was, and there would be scandal. The businessman in him recognized the dangers in that, though they wouldn't be as bad as if he were in D.C.

But the father in him recognized that, if she did that, it would be only what he deserved, for having been a failure as a father. On the walk into the building, her arm nestled into his, her fingers lying possessively on top of his wrist, her breast pressing against his biceps, Brad Tarkenton decided that if she did that, he'd just take it.

"I'm sorry" he said as they approached the doors being swung open by uniformed attendants.

"We'll have plenty of time to talk about that later. Right now you need to act like my date." came the voice from the gorgeous woman beside him.

"I just wanted you to know," he said.

She grunted. "I've known how sorry a man you were for years." But her arm tightened and she smiled widely as the doors were opened for them. They swept into the room, already packed with people of all types, and were immediately the center of attention.

It was always like this when Brad went to a party. He was usually the richest, most important and most powerful man people had ever met, and they flocked to him like moths to a flame, trying to touch him, hoping that some of his fabulous luck and wealth would rub off on them. Many times the women who attended these things with him were put off by the crush, but Samantha worked the crowd like a pro. Brad noticed that some men she addressed by their first name. He soon figured out that these men were not with their wives. The men she knew who WERE with their wives, she addressed by the honorific and their last name. In every situation like that she followed that up by asking about some project they were involved in, as if she were a consultant they'd worked with, or had drawn the designs they were using to build something. Never was it obvious that she'd slept with a man, not even to Brad. But she knew a lot of people. And a lot of people knew her. Brad saw only one frown from a woman who interacted with the woman everyone called Jasmine. There were a lot of wistful looks thrown her way, and Brad realized that most of the people who were in this room couldn't afford to hire Jasmine.

Then Brad began to listen to what she talked with the women in the crowd about. He soon realized that she was involved in a number of women's groups, including a breast cancer awareness organization, some kind of children's burn victim group, a club that was trying to revitalize green spaces in the city and, of all things, a quilting guild.

Later in the night, when he was at the bar getting a drink for himself and his daughter, he'd find out what everyone in the room thought she was. A man who had obviously already had way too much to drink leaned over and asked, with alcohol fumed breath, "What's it like to be with one of those rich girls, who have rich daddies, and never have to work? Are they too spoiled to suck your dick? Do they even fuck?"

Brad, not knowing who the man was, and not wanting to be thrown out for putting his fist in the guy's face, just said "I don't know. It's my first time. I'll let you know later."

So everyone thought she was wealthy, by virtue of having a rich father. Just a flit-about rich socialite, who could sleep as late as she wanted, and go out with lots of different men because she was too spoiled to pick any one of them.

But that was later. For now Brad just watched a professional people person at work. She was good, and though conflicted, Brad felt proud of his daughter.

The initial chaos of being important faded after about half an hour and, when the crowd thinned out, Sam turned to her father. Here, in the light, she took his breath away. The dress didn't so much cover her nakedness as advertise it while teasing the observer by showing what her body would look like if she was wearing paint. Her nipples were spiked and showing clearly.

Sam settled her gaze on the man she was with. "Aren't you going to ask me to dance?" she asked. "People will talk if you don't have anything to do with me."

Brad ignored her jibe. "Nothing would please me more than dancing with you," he said.

She arched one pencil thin eyebrow. "Nothing?" she teased. She was good at her job, and the fact that her date was her own father didn't slow her down even a little.

They moved to the dance floor, where a small orchestra was playing music to dance slowly to. There would be no rock and roll at this party. As she melted into his arms he found his mouth by her ear.

"I've missed you." he whispered.

She stiffened, but then relaxed. "Yeah ... right." She was an exquisite dancer and they moved like they'd studied and trained together.

"I spent over half a million looking for you," he said.

"You always did try to throw money at a problem." came her retort.

There was a tap on his shoulder and he turned to find a man half his age asking to cut in.

Jasmine smiled sweetly at the young man. "Thank you so much, but I couldn't bear to tear myself away from my date," she said. "I'll be sad about it for days, though, thinking of what I'll miss." The would-be suitor, for having been rebuffed, left feeling surprisingly upbeat. Jasmine had a way of saying "no" that made men think she'd said "later."

"If you hate me so much, why didn't you dance with him?" asked Brad.

"I'm not sure I hate you," she said back. "A lot has happened since I left. I won't say I've kept an eye on you, but some of what you've done has come to my attention. I know, for example, that you didn't marry again after Trudy the turd."

Brad swung her around hard enough to make her hair fly out, hitting a nearby couple. They laughed.

When she came back to him he felt her hand lower on his back. "I should have listened to you about her." he admitted. "I should have done a lot of things differently."

"Do you believe in Karma?" asked his daughter, holding him close. He could feel her breasts, rubbing against his chest. His hand was in the middle of her naked back.

"I don't know." he answered truthfully. "I know that what goes around comes around. Is that the same thing?"

"Pretty close. As I look back on things I think there was some kind of Karma at work. I didn't like my life then, or you. But Phillip and I were forged by that pressure, and fired in that kiln. You were too Daddy."

He felt an unaccountable thrill shoot through him at her use of "Daddy". He'd assumed he'd never hear that word again, applied to him, anyway.

"That doesn't mean I feel good about it," he said. He felt her tense up again and guessed that she had interpreted him as saying he didn't feel good about how she and Phillip had turned out. He hastened to correct that, if, in fact it had happened. "What I mean is that you have grown into a beautiful and successful woman, perfectly capable of taking care of herself. You're popular and sought after by the good elements in our society."

"I'm a hooker, Daddy," she said, but there was no heat in it. "A lot of people here know that. Not all, but a lot."

"That's how you make a living. But that's not all you are. From what I've heard just tonight you're important to a lot of people and it has nothing whatsoever to do with sex."

"So if I announced to the people here that I'm your daughter ... you wouldn't be embarrassed?"

Brad felt his positive mood sour. So that was why she was here after all. Well, he'd already decided he'd take it, if that's what she wanted to get her revenge.

"If you felt it was important for people to know that then I'd gladly claim you as my daughter." he answered.

Sam snuggled in against him and put both her arms around him. That led him to put both his hands on her naked back as they swayed to the music. "Why haven't you contacted Phillip?" she asked his chest.

"When I couldn't find you I knew you were either dead, or didn't want to be found. And when I cut Phillip off, I figured he'd seen all of me he wanted to. I also assumed he'd come back, looking for more money. I was wrong about that too. I've been wrong about so much."

She looked up at him. "I changed my name legally and then asked the court to seal the records. I told them there was a stalker who would try to find me. I was notified twice that someone was asking about it. I convinced the man who kept the records not to release them. That's why you couldn't find me. I knew you were looking, but I thought it was just to drag me back home.

"I would never have done that Sam," he said.

"Jasmine" she corrected. "Even Phillip calls me Jasmine now."

"You see him?" Brad was surprised.

"About every three months. I fly down and we spend a few days ... catching up. He's very successful now."

"He's successful at home repairs?" Brad was again surprised.

"Daddy, he fixed everything in the house when we were young. The contractors would come in and screw things up, or use cheap materials. They were all trying to rip you off. So Phillip learned how to do things. He's a genius, you know. Maybe you don't know. Why were you like that Daddy?"

Brad sighed. "I never got over your mother. I'm still not over her. I tried to find somebody who could be like her, but there aren't any women like her. She was one of a kind." He squeezed Jasmine and felt her rub her breasts against him. 'She must do that from habit' he thought. He went on. "When you were seventeen you looked so much like her that I thought I was seeing her ghost. But you hated me, and that hurt more than anything else. I was looking at her, but feeling your hate."

"I didn't hate you Daddy," she said. "Well, OK, sometimes I hated you. But mostly I was disgusted with you. I had all these dreams ... Phillip and I both did ... but you wouldn't let us pursue them."

"Was that what State college was all about?" asked Brad.

"Yes. I wanted to be an interior designer and Phillip wanted to be an engineer."

"Phillip could have done that, if he hadn't gotten in so much trouble."

"Phillip was trying to get your attention so he could tell you what he wanted. But the only time you ever talked to him was when you were pissed off."

"So why didn't you go to college where you wanted to? You know ... after you changed your name." asked Brad.

"When I left, I left your money behind. I was broke and homeless. I was running away from an angry hot dog vendor when I ran in front of George's limo one night. He hit me. I wasn't hurt. Scraped up a little, and I didn't need to go to the hospital, but George was scared half to death. He took me home and Claudette fed me and cleaned me up. I stayed with them for a few days. I wouldn't tell them who I was, but it was pretty clear that I didn't have any skills. It was George who introduced me to Madeline. She trained me to be ... what I am."

"So she takes a cut of what you make?" asked Brad.

"No, she's an incurable romantic who thinks that every man should have a mistress. She says it brings out the real man in him and makes his home life better. Sort of like therapy. We're all independent operators. Madeline has friends powerful enough to protect us, and we play things pretty close to the chest."

"And a beautiful chest it is." Brad said, without thinking.

Jasmine looked up at him again, and her dazzling smile lit up. "Why Daddy, you're FLIRTING with me." She was, for some reason, pleased by that.

Suddenly she started looking around. She didn't make it obvious, but she was clearly looking all around them as they continued to dance.

"You've made me forget to watch what I'm doing. No man has done that for so long I can't even remember the last time. People are watching us. Kiss me."

"What?" he asked, stunned.

"People expect to see us cuddle and kiss. You're Mister Big, and I'm your expensive plaything. Kiss me."

"But ..."

He was cut off as she stood on tiptoes and kissed him. It was no pretend kiss either, with stiff lips. She all but ate his lips off as hers sucked and closed over his, her tongue darting into his surprised mouth. He actually heard two couples nearby sigh as they watched.

She pulled back. "Is that the best you can do?" she asked. "No wonder you can't find a wife." Her eyes clouded instantly. "I'm sorry Daddy. I shouldn't have said that."

They danced for two hours, never taking a break, standing close together between songs. Every ten or fifteen minutes she demanded that he kiss her. She instructed him each time exactly what kind of kiss they should be having, based on her experience. He laughed, but began kissing her back like he meant it. He was delirious that she even let him talk to her. That she was willing to kiss him, he chalked up to her desire to maintain her professional image.

She told him everything she was involved in and he was amazed. He told her how his philosophy had changed. At one point she said "That's why I decided to escort you tonight. When Julie asked me to do it I talked to George about you. He loves you. And I trust George."

"I'm going to have to tip George very generously," he said.

She squirmed against him.

"You know, you've been rubbing those delightful breasts against me for over an hour. I'm only a man, Sam," he said.

"Jasmine" she reminded him. "I like rubbing them against you. My therapist says that I wanted your attention when I was younger because I was trying to take Mommy's place when she died. And when you didn't accept me as a sexual partner it caused me to try to find that acceptance in other men."

"Wow." said Brad. "And what do you think?"

"Up to now I thought he was a quack," she said. She didn't go on, leaving Brad trying to figure out exactly what that meant.

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