Tea for two

You can’t go wrong with a scone, jam, and cream. So if a client invites me to join him for a spot of tea and a chat in a luxury hotel, I never say no. Today, I checked into The Savoy at 3 p.m. for tea for two, dressed to thrill, as only a top London escort does. I chose a 1940s wiggle dress that hugged every curve and a pair of glossy black Mary Janes. I was feeling very retro for some reason—like Rita Hayworth stepping onto a film set. To complete the look, I glammed it right up with a sweep of eyeliner and bright red lipstick for added va-va-voom.

Making an Entrance

I was fashionably late (five minutes, my maximum), and Bobby was already seated in the restaurant, framed by the soft clink of china and low murmur of conversation. A crisp white napkin was draped across his lap, and a leather-bound menu rested in his hands. He stood up immediately as I approached, looked me over with a slow, appreciative smile, declared me “delicious!” and then, with a playful flourish, pulled out my chair. We sat, knees almost touching under the table, as the waiter hovered at our elbows to take our order for tea for two.

A silver pot of Earl Grey soon arrived and was placed on one side of the table, sending up a fragrant curl of steam, while a delicate glass teapot of “Whole Lemon Verbena” was set on the other, its pale green leaves drifting lazily in the water. Tiered stands followed—gleaming and precariously full—piled with scones, pastries, and tiny, perfectly cut sandwiches. With everything laid out before us, we finally relaxed into our date, cups in hand.

Overindulgence in Style

You’d think that, as an elite escort in London, I’d be an old hand on the hotel circuit and remember exactly how much food they insist on feeding you. Apparently not. After your fourth cup of tea, you feel like you could water the surrounding foliage—though I behaved myself. I sat there suffering, sucking my stomach in while my eyes stubbornly remained bigger than my tummy. Bobby was in his element, happily munching on his third scone with an unapologetic mound of clotted cream, while I delicately nibbled on an éclair and exhaled as discreetly as possible, the zip of my dress feeling a little too snug for comfort. By the end of that first tea round for two, the idea of getting my second wind seemed less like a figure of speech and more like a necessity.

From Tea Room to Boutique

As it was only a one-hour sitting, we decided to quit while we were ahead, before we both had to be rolled out. We wandered out of the restaurant and into the hotel shop, where gleaming glass counters displayed rows of jewel-like chocolates and shelves were lined with immaculate tins of tea and neatly wrapped biscuits. After our feast, the delicacies looked a whole lot less tempting and a little more intimidating. For once, I could browse without drooling. I watched the chocolatiers at work behind the glass, their movements precise and almost hypnotic, swirling molten chocolate and decorating each piece like a tiny work of art.

Shopping Spree Finale

That’s not to say we didn’t put a considerable dent in our credit limits. Freed from immediate appetite, I turned my attention to the gift section with renewed purpose. I made the most of it, choosing tins of tea, boxes of truffles, and pretty preserves for the family, piling them into the assistant’s waiting arms. We finally stopped only when our shopping bags were full, our wallets noticeably lighter, and we were perilously close to being quite broke—but with plenty of treats to show for it.