Today, I was exhausted; that’s what happens with 24-hour escorts sometimes. Call it the mid-week blues, if you like, but I could barely put one foot in front of the other. Cue an emergency call to The Sanctuary in Covent Garden and an even more vital full-body massage with Yvette.
I cancelled all appointment meetings and took a test at 9 a.m. when I was sure the world was awake. I had opened an eye and thought, “I cannot face today”. This is very unusual for me – I love my job. As an expensive London escort being pampered, adored and treated like royalty – who wouldn’t? But I have been non-stop for the last 30 days. This time last month was my charity auction, so I feel I deserve a break. I’d love a week or two in Dubai, but I’d have to call on one of my contacts for a 6-star luxury hotel, as even my budget doesn’t allow me to rub shoulders with sheikhs without selling my soul to Satan.
Yvette could only fit me in after 11 a.m., which was fine, given that I hadn’t even put a toe on the carpet. It meant I could turn on the TV and see what was going on in London before I wandered through to shower and prepare myself for a bit of R&R.
My mobile was going off nine to the dozen by the time I returned to it. I have often toyed with a PA to handle my busy schedule, but that would make my iPhone and Filofax redundant, and I don’t think I could rely on anyone to manage my life in the same manner I do. I remember Carrie’s assistant on Sex & the City being like her right arm. Is it possible?
So by 11 a.m., I was lying on a bed, naked from the waist up, being heavenly massaged by Yvette to the sounds of crashing waves. Oh my God. She said I had a lot of tension in my shoulders and I should at least try for a massage once a month. I took this as gospel and pencilled in July, August, September AND November as soon as I could!
