There is a way I undress that has nothing to do with speed. I unbutton my blouse one button at a time, and I let you hear every tiny sound the silk makes as it loosens and gives up. I am never in a hurry. That is the whole point of me.
You should know something about the way I like my evenings. I pour one glass of wine, never two, and I choose the dress that makes my shoulders look like they were carved for candlelight. I sit down next to the phone and I wait for your call the way a woman waits for a lover who is worth waiting for. By the time you speak, I am already warm.
When you call and ask for Ella, I want you to tell me about your day first. I mean it. I want to hear the tired edge in your voice soften while I talk you through taking off your tie, loosening your collar, sitting down somewhere quiet. I will be there the whole time, my voice low and unhurried, telling you exactly what I am doing with my hands while you listen.
I slide one stocking down my leg and I describe it to you: the way the lace band rolls, the way my skin feels cooler where the nylon was. I take my time because taking my time is what makes your breathing change. I can hear it happen. I always can. That little catch in your breath when I say a word slowly, when I let a pause hang between us like perfume in a room.
Being a classy lady does not mean I am cold. It means I know exactly how much to give you and exactly when to make you wait for the rest. I will tell you about the pearl necklace resting against my throat, and then I will tell you where my fingers are, and I will not rush a single syllable of it.
Some men think elegance and hunger cannot live in the same woman. I am proof that they can. I will speak to you like a lady and touch myself like I have been thinking about you all day, because I have. There is nothing rushed about the way I come apart. It builds the way good music builds, note by note, until I am breathless and honest and saying your name like I mean it.
Call the dispatcher and ask for Ella. Tell them you want the slow one, the one with the wine and the silk and the voice that never hurries. I will be waiting, and I promise you this: by the time we are finished, you will understand why elegance is the slowest, sweetest form of seduction.
Yours, Ella