Mr. Big Shot

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It all began with an unexpected email that arrived late on a Tuesday night, sent to an old address. The message, from a man seeking an escort for a family dinner, caught me off guard. He referred to me as "Sexy Lexi" and mentioned that a mutual friend, John, recommended me for the occasion. He wanted a date for a big family gathering at Cipriani Wall Street, emphasizing that he needed someone classy and intelligent, not your typical escort. My best friend Candace, ever the instigator, read the email and was intrigued. She questioned the audacity of inviting an escort to a family event, but her mischievous smile suggested she was already plotting my next move. Despite my better judgment, I found myself contemplating a response. I decided to take on the challenge, preparing to portray an escort for one of Manhattan's most eligible billionaires, all for the sake of a story to share with my girlfriends at brunch. As I navigated the complexities of this charade, I wondered if I could maintain my heart and sanity amidst the unfolding drama. Would the experience blur the lines between pretense and reality, and would I emerge unscathed?