"Are you buttering me up for something?" Sylvia asked and watched her son across the table while their server brought espresso to finish the meal. "How does an unemployed college kid afford a dinner like this?"
Vic liked the way his mom's hair curved under her jaw to frame her smile. Even more, he liked the shadowy depth of her cleavage, but he didn't like that question. "Didn't you teach me that it was rude to question a gift?"
"I don't mean to be rude," she said, and reached across the table to touch Vic's hand. "But I'd like to know that you aren't running up bills to impress me."
"Don't worry," Vic said and sat forward with his hands around the little espresso cup. "Dad still sends me money, so I'm not running up bills."
"He probably wouldn't like you spending it on me," Sylvia said. "He's buying your attention, not mine."
"Dad thinks he can buy anything," Vic said, "and it usually works."
Sylvia glanced at the people sitting around them. She lowered her voice and said, "Enough about your father. I want to talk business."
"Now?" Vic asked. "You need me to do something, don't you? How are things going at the salon?"
"Don't worry," Sylvia said with a flip of her hand. "All my chairs are rented, and if any of the girls want out, then there's a waiting list. I added two mani-pedi stations. They're busy. I went to a new makeup line, and it's selling. I leased the empty bay next to mine, put a waxing salon there, and renamed the shop. Now instead of 'Sylvia's Salon' we're 'Sylvia's Beauty Spa.' I've never had so much business."
"I still have this 'something's wrong' thing tingling in my head," Vic said, and waited while their server paused by the table.
"There's nothing wrong," Sylvia said. "I just have an idea. I look for new ways to connect with my clients—to make them feel better about themselves. I'm going to have massage tables, maybe colonic irrigation, and I'm thinking of something else.
"You need a job while you're here, yes?" She asked. "I think we can kill two birds with one stone."
Sylvia hesitated, then realized that the constant hum and clatter of the restaurant would hide anything she had to say. "Some of my clients are older women who get all dressed up and have no-one to take them to a fundraiser, to the opera, or just for a night out. Maybe their husband doesn't want to go. Maybe they don't have a husband anymore.
"You're young, good-looking, and interesting. What if I rented you out?"
"What?" Vic said. He lowered his voice again and leaned over his coffee. "You want me to be an escort?" He laughed, but then saw the serious expression on his mother's face.
"Let's be adventurous," Sylvia said. "I'll take twenty percent of the fee—I don't even know yet what that would be—and you can have the rest. I suppose most of the work will be on weekends, and in between you can get a regular job or do whatever you want."
Vic looked at the lights reflecting off the dark liquid in his cup and his thoughts swirled. "What if they want sex?" he asked.
"Nothing
illegal!
" Sylvia said, then bit her lip and glanced around again. "The clients I'm thinking of are rich ladies who would love to hang on a young man's arm and grin at their friends. That's about it. Come on, let's try it."
Vic had a hard time saying "no" to his mother. "I'll think about it," he said, but he knew she'd get her way if she really wanted it. He finished the last of his espresso in one gulp and sat back to watch Sylvia. "I didn't know what I thought of your new hair color at first, but I've been watching, and I like it. When did you go silver?"
"About as soon as I found my first gray hair," Sylvia said. "I figured that if it was going to change on me, then I'd take charge and make it silver instead." She looked at Vic's cup and said, "If you're done, then I'll go to the restroom before we leave."
Vic watched heads turn as Sylvia walked across the restaurant. Sometimes she just looked like Mom to him, but then other men reminded him how good she really looked. He paid the bill while she was gone and stood to meet her when she came back.
"What are you smiling at?" Sylvia asked. She tucked her hand around Vic's arm and let him guide her between the tables.
Vic didn't answer until he stopped by the hostess' station. "I was smiling at the prettiest woman in the restaurant," he said.
Sylvia dismissed him with a wave of her hand, but Vic could tell from the sparkle in her eyes and the way her lips turned so slightly up that she liked what she heard. "Now I know you're buttering me up," she said.
"A guy can compliment his date, can't he?" Vic asked, and they stepped outside where the heat of the day had faded and darkness crept slowly across the sky.
Insects flitted in the pools of light in the parking lot, and bats darted and dove above them as they walked. Sylvia pulled herself close and changed the subject. "It felt like a really long semester this time."
"It was long for me, too," Vic said and stopped Sylvia by her car. He looked past her shoulder to see if anyone was watching, and rested his hands on her hips. "But I spent spring break in Greece with Dad, so I'm yours all summer."
Vic helped his mom into the passenger seat then slipped in behind the steering wheel and started the car. Sylvia stopped him before he pulled out and asked, "So was that a yes about working for me?"
"Not yet," Vic said. "I'm not going to have much of a life if I'm dating your clients at night, and then what am I supposed to tell my friends when they ask what I'm doing?"
"I'd be awfully optimistic to think I can keep you that busy." Sylvia said. "Even if you do get busy, you can always see your friends during the day. You can tell them you're an entertainment contractor or something. No-one will know what that means."
