The following Friday, a couple of hours before she was to go to the bar, Darek met Iza at a coffee shop. She looked perfect. Darek could see right away how difficult she would be for any man to resist. In fact, he had found her attractive from the first time he had seen her. She had long wavy blonde hair, crystal blue eyes, and a slim, shapely figure. But more than that, she had a sort of aloofness and sensuality that many men would find compelling. Marlene Dietrich came to mind. Why she wanted to work as an escort, he still didn't understand. 'Escort', he had to laugh. Was it a way to escape from saying that she was really a prostitute in the same way that strippers called themselves 'exotic dancers'?
"The detective took these pictures of him. Take a look at them and try to remember what he looks like."
"He's kind of cute", Iza noted in a matter of fact manner.
Darek ignored the comment. "The detective will give me a call when he leaves work. He'll also go to the bar and, if things work out, he'll snap a few pictures. Don't worry, you won't even notice him."
"I'm not worried. I'm kind of looking forward to this. Who knows? Maybe I can set up my own business and work for women who want to test their husband's loyalty. What do you think?" She asked, giving him a big smile.
Darek looked at her and smiled back. She puzzled him. "Iza, don't get me wrong, but I can't help but wonder why you do this kind of work. You're intelligent, well-educated…"
"Attractive", Iza interrupted.
"Yes, attractive", Darek continued. "You could do something much better."
"Really? Like what? Because I haven't found it. Look, I'm still a student, what kind of job do you really think I can get that will pay as much as what I do now?" Iza responded with some irritation.
"Yeah, but is money the only factor in choosing a job?" Darek answered, challenging her.
"No, of course not, but I like what I do. I told you. I meet a lot of interesting people on this job. I told you this but you still have your own ideas about what I do. Nothing I say is going to convince you otherwise." Iza replied with her irritation turning to anger.
"Okay, I'm sorry. It's just…" The phone rang, interrupting him.
"He's on his way. I suppose you'd better head out. Give me a call and tell me how it went, okay? Good luck, Iza." They shook hands and Iza walked away without looking back.