Pandora's Box

by Allison Hobbs

  Victoria cut her eyes at Lauren, and sure enough, Lauren’s face was a crimson, angry mask. “Hmm,” Victoria muttered without elaborating as she began to pull out items from the travel case.

  Jonee eyed the luggage. “Damn, girl, you movin’ in?”

  “Could be,” she replied mysteriously.

  “I guess you heard Dominique and Reds been MIA for two days.”

  “No, I haven’t heard anything.” Victoria looked around and was surprised that the two women were not present. “I thought those two were permanent fixtures on this shift. I hope they’re all right.”

  “Ain’t nothing happened to them hoes. They out getting they high on, spending up all Reds’ money.

  Victoria’s eyebrows rose in question. “Reds’ money? What money?”

  “Where you been, girl? You ain’t heard?”

  Victoria shook her head, but had already lost interest. She was calculating how much she could possibly make if she had six or seven customers per shift, each tipping fifty dollars, at least.

  “Reds’ been on the down low, working for Arianna during the day.”

  “I thought that was just a rumor. Arianna really has her own place?” Victoria screeched with renewed interest.

  “Uh huh. Miss High Siddity done opened up a little hideaway and I heard she got it hooked up nice. She’s specializing in S&M and all types of freaky stuff—nothing normal. But hey, to each his own.”

  “You’re kidding,” Victoria said in a voice that urged Jonee to continue.

  “I ain’t lying. I don’t like that snotty little bitch, but I gotta give credit where it’s due, cause Miss Thang is gittin’ paid! And she’s been spreading the wealth with desperate bitches like Reds and Bethany. Sheena, too.” Jonee paused, then added,”But, I heard she can’t rely on Sheena.”

  “I didn’t know Reds was into dominance. I thought that was Dominique’s specialty.”

  “The way I hear it, Reds ain’t doing the dominating.”

  “What!” Victoria was fascinated.

  “Yeah, girl! Reds is over there gittin’ her ass whipped by tricks! They be tyin’ her up, smacking her around, spittin’ on her—shit like that.”

  “I find that hard to believe, Jonee. Why would anyone…?”

  “Fuck if I know. Look, Pleasure, some bitches will do anything for a dollar. Hmph! All I know is… it wouldn’t be me. Hell no! ’Cause I ain’t the one. Just let a mothafuckin’ trick try some bondage bullshit with me…” Jonee paused with one eye narrowed threateningly. “Girl, I’d kick his ass up and down Market Street and then I’d turn around and fuck Arianna up for getting me involved in the first place.” Jonee tilted her head, turned the beer can up to her lips and drained it.

  Victoria tried to shake away the mental image of poor Reds being tied up and flogged by some sadistic, demented customer. Too bad Reds didn’t have the foresight to sock away some of the millions she claimed to have earned in her youth. Victoria sighed heavily, and then turned her thoughts to her own plight. Although she was anxious to get her night started, the first customer would be the most difficult. A sudden thought of Kareem made her heart sink. She forced his image from her mind.

  Victoria’s eyes swept the room; she wondered who was staying over from the previous shift. She didn’t feel like putting up with Miquon and was relieved to see that she, along with Lauren, and Sydney were packing up to leave. Jonee, she noticed, hadn’t made a move.

  “Who’s working tonight?” Victoria asked Jonee.

  “Just me, you and Chelsea.”

  “You’re staying? Why? I thought you got paid already. Why do you need more?”

  “Girl, my money ain’t been right since that suspension. I’m trying to play catch-up.”

  Victoria rolled her eyes to the ceiling.

  “Oh, I forgot,” Jonee said, nodding knowingly at the luggage. “I guess your money got fucked up, too.”

  Victoria sized up her competition. Jonee was looking a little rough tonight. All the activity from the previous shift appeared to have taken its toll. Jonee’s bare lips were outlined in a deep maroon. The lipstick she had worn now decorated the rim of the beer can she’d tossed in the waste can, and her wig, a long honey blonde pageboy was slightly askew. Still, Victoria knew that Jonee’s disheveled appearance wouldn’t matter at all to any of the lustful men who came out after midnight. Jonee was a tireless worker whose persistence and stamina could often pull even the most reluctant customer. Jonee would be a formidable opponent.

  Tall and pretty Chelsea, on the other hand, just didn’t seem to appeal to the customers, and Victoria had never been able to figure out why. Well, one thing was for sure, she wasn’t about to start racking her brain over it tonight. Tonight she was extremely grateful that Chelsea lacked some hidden ingredient that had the potential to stand in the way of Jordan’s education fund.

  A few minutes later, at the sound of the bell, the three women scuffled to get to the door, but instead of a customer, there stood Sheena, looking gaunt and haggard as usual. Jonee scowled at Sheena, then marched back into the lounge.

  “How many working tonight?” Sheena asked.

  Regarding Sheena with disinterest, Victoria shrugged and looked at her watch.

  Sheena put on a wrinkled thong teddy, slipped her feet into a pair of once-white skuzzy slippers, and began to pace nervously back and forth. Victoria tried to avert her gaze each time Sheena walked past. But it became increasingly difficult for her to keep her eyes from zooming in on Sheena’s skinny, ashy, sagging butt.

  “Wanna wear this, Sheena?” Victoria gently unfolded a glittering Lycra bodystocking, and presented it with its price tag dangling. Grinning and nodding, Sheena snatched the delicate bodystocking.

  “Aw shit now, check you out, Sheena,” Jonee teased. “We ain’t gonna be able to make a dime with you prancing around in Pleasure’s fancy gear.”

  The grin on Sheena’s face widened.

  “That’s gorgeous,” Chelsea said. “I can’t believe you’re letting Sheena wear it.”

  Victoria shrugged, and turned to Sheena. “You can have it, Sheena, it’s too small for me.

  “Damn, Pleasure, why didn’t you let me try it on?” Jonee asked. “I ain’t skinny like Sheena, but I probably could have squeezed into it. I would have paid you for it, too. I hope you realize Sheena ain’t gonna take care of it—you ain’t even gonna recognize your shit the next time she comes dragging through.”

  “How you know what I’m gonna do?” Sheena asked in weak protest.

  “It’s obvious. Look at that wrinkled up mess you wearing right now.”

  “Leave her alone, Jonee. She can do what she wants with it—it belongs to her now.” Victoria turned to Sheena. “Try it on.”

  Sheena pulled off the teddy, and modestly covered her frail body with a towel as she slipped into the body-stocking. It was a little baggy, but Sheena didn’t seem to mind.

  Victoria smiled, satisfied. Giving Sheena the body-stocking was a small price to pay. Now that she was appropriately covered, Victoria wouldn’t be forced to behold Sheena’s ashy little behind and sickly looking body all night.

  CHAPTER 37

  2:30 a.m. Victoria was antsy. She’d switched outfits, changing into a stretch lace micro chemise, which revealed her bare cheeks and the string of her thong. She’d polished her nails, read a few articles in Essence, watched something stupid on TV, chatted with Rover, and still no customers.

  Curled up on the loveseat next to Chelsea, Jonee drifted in and out of sleep, asking repeatedly if any customers had arrived.

  Sheena, apparently worn out from pacing, finally passed out on the sofa with her arms and legs flailed every which way, her open mouth emitting an unattractive wheezing sound.

  Chelsea was wide-awake and talkative. “Do you have a man, Pleasure?” she inquired somewhat anxiously.

  Victoria gave her a puzzled look, and then shook her head. She refused to disclose personal information to Chelsea or anyone else at Pandora’s.
Jonee, of course, knew more than most, but only what Victoria wanted her to know. She’d deliberately provided only sketchy details of her relationship with Jordan’s dad, and had only hinted that she didn’t get along with her mother. She hadn’t spoken a word about her relationship with Kareem or her music.

  Chelsea’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “Well, I’d like to introduce you to my man. His name is Jay. He can help you.”

  “Help me? How?”

  “You know, manage your money, invest it for you. Pay your bills.” Chelsea mistook Victoria’s brow, furrowed in confusion, as a look of interest, and continued enthusiastically. “See, I chose this life so I could have my own business,” Chelsea patiently explained. “Jay is my business partner. He’s the thinker; I’m the doer.”

  Victoria nodded dumbly.

  “Most working girls don’t have a man,” Chelsea continued. “And you see how they end up—strung out, their lives in disarray. They need someone to guide them. Look at Reds. Now that’s a classic example of a woman who needed guidance. All that money wasted,” Chelsea said, shaking her head regretfully. “I’ve been with Jay for five years, and he’s going to retire me in a couple of years. After I retire, his younger girls will continue working until they’ve earned enough to retire, too. See, our business is more like a corporation. With everybody’s input, we’ve been able to buy beachfront property in Wildwood; we have a Jaguar, and we’ve recently invested in a prizefighter from Puerto Rico.

  What was all this talk of we? Victoria didn’t see any evidence of Chelsea owning anything other than her clothing and her work attire. Granted, she didn’t have to ride SEPTA back and forth to work like some of the girls; she traveled by taxi. But who, Victoria wondered, was driving the Jaguar? And the younger girls she referred to, had to be earning the lion’s share of the corporation, for certainly Chelsea’s contribution was no more than a pittance.

  “Chelsea, are you talking about a pimp?”

  “I don’t refer to him in that way,” Chelsea said, looking offended.

  “Forgive me for being politically incorrect, but I’m just shocked that you’re into something like that.” Victoria paused to study the air, then leaned forward and asked in a whispery voice, “Do all of you live together—with him?”

  “No, he lives by himself, and so do I. I have a very nice apartment in Powelton Village.”

  Victoria tried not to scowl; Powelton Village was very close to her own neighborhood. She didn’t like the possibility of their worlds colliding once she left the business.

  “The newer girls share a house out in the suburbs; no one has to worry about paying bills or anything…Jay takes care of everything.”

  “I see,” Victoria said, lips pursed in disapproval. She’d worked with Chelsea for seven months and hadn’t an inkling that the woman was deranged? The revelation just confirmed Victoria’s belief that Pandora’s Box was a magnet, attracting misfits and lunatics. Thank God she was getting out before she lost her tenuous grip on sanity.

  Victoria rose from the chair, indicating the conversation was over. A visit with Rover had to be better than listening to this nonsense.

  “So, what do you think, would you like to meet him?” Chelsea pressed. “Jay can explain the arrangement much better than I can.”

  “Chelsea,” Victoria said in the most condescending tone she could manage. “How would it benefit me to have a pimp? And, why would I want to start denying my son and myself so I can help make payments on someone else’s luxury car? I’m so insulted that you would think…”

  “Pleasure,” Chelsea cut in. But instead of the wounded look Victoria had aimed for, Chelsea’s expression was superior, as if having a pimp, and being a part of a stable was something to be envied. “A while ago, I overheard you talking to Jonee about private school for your son. You sounded worried about his tuition. You make a lot of money, Pleasure, but it’s obviously mismanaged. I was just trying to be helpful.”

  Stung, Victoria appeared to recover fast. “Touché,” she replied as she sat back down, trying to look unruffled. Her heart thumped in anger as she rifled through her duffle bag, her fingers frantically searching until she located her CD Player. Needing to hear something soothing, she inserted a New Age CD, Healing Harmony.

  The doorbell’s sound gave Victoria a pleasant jolt. Smiling with relief, she and Chelsea stood up simultaneously. Jonee sprang up next, finger-combed her wig, and hustled past Victoria and Chelsea. In acknowledgement of the bell, Sheena began to stir, but then settled into a different position.

  Jonee gleefully yanked the door open. She exhaled noisily. “It’s for you, Chelsea!” she yelled. Jonee spun around, annoyed. She bumped into Victoria. “You might as well sit down; that’s Chelsea’s man.”

  “Her pimp?” Victoria asked in a whisper.

  Jonee nodded with undisguised disgust.

  “How come you never mentioned that hot topic?”

  Jonee shrugged, an irritated one-shoulder movement.

  An image of the vintage Superfly appeared in Victoria’s mind. With a hand over her mouth, Victoria covered up a ripple of laughter. She continued toward the door, curious to see this modern-day pimp.

  But Victoria almost choked on her laughter as she gasped in shock. She wanted to run back to the lounge but couldn’t move; her legs were rubbery, useless. Holding onto the doorknob for support, her eyes flicked up and down in disbelief. Justice Martin! The devil himself stood right there in the lobby, as handsome, as well-dressed, and as well-coiffed as ever. The long locks were gone; he’d started them anew. His head was adorned with short, shiny, coils that had an incongruous majestic effect. Other than a quick double-take, and a tightening of the muscles around his mouth, there was no noticeable indication that he recognized Victoria.

  “I’m not a customer, baby. I just wanted to have a word with Chelsea.” He laughed out each word in superior amusement.

  Chelsea nervously joined in the laughter, and mouthed to Victoria with tremendous pride, “This is Jay.”

  Along with the life that returned to her legs, came a burning humiliation and an awareness of her exposed behind, which prevented Victoria from making a graceful exit. Under the scrutiny of Justice’s mocking eyes, and feeling close to hysteria, Victoria backed out of the lobby.

  “What the hell’s wrong with you?” Jonee asked when Victoria returned to the lounge.

  “I know Chelsea’s pimp,” she muttered to herself as much as to Jonee. “Oh God!” she whimpered, wringing her hands.

  “You used to work for him or something?”

  “No!” Victoria screamed, which made Jonee flinch. “I just know him, that’s all.”

  There was a chorus of laughter from the lobby. Victoria burst into tears.

  “Damn, Pleasure. What the fuck is wrong with you? What? You got a thing for him or something? Girl, he don’t mess with no black women. Only Chelsea, and she ain’t even all black. All his bitches are white. Young and white. From places like Sweden and England and shit.”

  Oh, God! Victoria moaned, as she recalled Justice’s British receptionist.

  “He don’t allow his white girls to work here. Oh, hell no! They can only work in high-class places, escort services, shit like that. They keep his pockets fat and carry Chelsea’s dead-ass weight. Nobody can figure out why he puts up with Chelsea.”

  “Well, why did you wait until now to tell me?” Victoria shouted irrationally, wiping away tears.

  Jonee gave her a perplexed look. “It slipped my mind, I guess. But, girl you gotta tell me something. Whassup? What are you crying for?”

  They heard the door close. Victoria quickly dried her eyes.

  Beaming, Chelsea reentered the lounge. “Jay’s so sweet. I told him we were having a horrible night. And look what he gave me for luck.” Chelsea proudly held out a hundred dollar bill.

  “I bet you better not think about spending it, ’cause you know when the night’s over, Big Daddy’s gonna want his good luck to come right back,” Jonee tau
nted.

  “Pleasure,” Chelsea said, ignoring Jonee. “Jay told me to tell you, good luck!”

  Victoria groaned and told herself that Justice’s appearance was a bad omen. The night wouldn’t get any better. She should quit. She should march back to the office right now and quit. But then again, the night couldn’t get any worse. To hell with Justice Martin, the pimp! The way he’d worked her, she should have known what he was. Well, she wouldn’t let him chase her out. Hell, he was the person responsible for her being there. And he knew it, and apparently found that fact hilarious.

  The pain—the shame of it all was unbearable. But she was determined to get through the night. And if she could get through the night, she’d make it through the week. This experience would be tucked away with all the other sad and tragic memories that were stored inside her patched-up, pieced-together heart.

  CHAPTER 38

  Jostled from sleep at 4 a.m, Victoria, Jonee, and Chelsea dragged themselves to answer the bell. Two young black guys stood in the lobby. Looking refreshed and energetic, they smirked at the sluggish women. Victoria immediately recognized the horrid delivery guy. His buddy—a tall, gangling, thuggish type, accompanied him. Out of uniform, the delivery guy wore baggy black shorts and a black tee shirt. His side-kick was dressed almost identically, except his tee shirt bore the faded image of some forgotten rap artist.

  Victoria promptly whirled around, shaking her head. She knew she should have followed her instincts and gone home.

  “Wassup wit that bitch?” the sidekick asked.

  “Man, fuck that hoe, she probably ain’t getting enough dick!” Both men broke out in raucous laughter.

  “Do y’all wanna see one of us or what?” Jonee asked irritably.

  “Yeah baby, give us a minute,” the delivery guy shot back. “Y’all the only ones workin’? Where all the white girls?”