by Nolon King
Why were they coming to me with this? Did they think I was going to force Victor to intervene?
I had enough to worry about without also being their union rep.
But could I say no when Angelica looked at me like that? Like she thought that I was going to make everything okay?
“What else?”
Angelica hesitated, then said, “These clients are livestreaming sessions with the girls, Elle. And taking live requests from the audience.”
“THEY’RE WHAT?”
In a squeak, Kristi echoed Angelica. “They take live requests, and stream the sessions.”
I couldn’t believe that Victor was on board with that, unless he was getting a cut of the profits. In which case, I might be on board with killing him.
“Thanks for telling me.” I forced myself to march out of the room despite my red haze of fury. In the hallway, I leaned against the wall and forced myself to breathe. In and out, in and out, several times, until the red began to fade.
Then I marched right into Victor’s office.
I didn’t even knock, and that pissed him off, because he was getting blow in both ways.
April scrambled up off the floor, half from surprise and the other because he shoved her.
Victor stuffed his dick down into his pants, fuming, glaring at me as he buttoned up. “You better be about to inform me of an alien invasion.”
“We need to talk about a client. Alone.”
He turned to April. “Outta here. But don’t go far.”
Victor waited for April to leave, but there wasn’t so much as a second of silence after the jam settled in place before he said, “This isn’t your business, and you have no right to interfere. You’re lucky to go with the grace that I give you.”
“Fuck your grace, Victor. You need to do a better job vetting, so that you’re not sending the girls out to assholes who are going to take requests from a live audience and stream them. That’s not a party, it’s free porn.”
“What?”
I dropped that bomb for maximum damage, and from what I could tell, it seemed like genuinely new information to him.
“You’re supposed to be protecting them, Victor. That’s part of the agreement.”
“No one said anything to me about livestreaming.”
“Maybe they’re afraid that if they complain, you’ll send them someplace worse.”
I couldn’t tell if he was furious because someone was making money off of his girls that he never saw, or that the girls who’d been sent on the job didn’t mention it to him.
I was pretty sure he wasn’t furious that the girls hadn’t felt safe.
Victor was an asshole, but putting a stop to the livestreaming made business sense, so I was pretty sure he’d take care of it.
“Tell the girls that I want the client’s name, and I won’t consider it a complaint if they come forward.” He fell back onto the couch and unzipped. “And tell April she’s got a job to finish.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Wednesday Afternoon …
LYNETTE
Lynette, we should drive out to the Mill, or down to Cielo del Mar. Do some shopping.
Susan had been nagging me forever. She had a bug up her butt for the two of us to spend some quality alone time together, and I finally ran out of excuses for not going. So I agreed to hang out, and buckled up for every one of her insipid stories about Owen and how she couldn’t let him poop without getting his feces all over her bony fingers. Metaphorically, of course, but that was more than enough. No CPA, no Natalie, no anyone else. Just. Us. Girls.
But no, I didn’t want to go shopping. I wanted to people watch. My favorite place to do that was the Broadway Grille, the restaurant inside mine and Frank’s favorite hotel. It was one of the best, and I had sampled from the top. They made a tableside Caesar that I couldn’t stop thinking about for a week each time I ordered it, and a surprising wine list for a restaurant of that size.
I liked eating there, imagining that I’d run into someone that Frank and I knew. They’d approach me and say, “Aren’t you Frank Wilder’s wife?”
It was nice to feel your husband’s success, even if it happened from afar, or if you were waiting for it to perhaps pass through the lobby, while you nursed your salad and watched from the inside the restaurant.
“Owen really needs to get out of the heat if he expects his allergies not to …”
But then Susan stopped talking.
I followed her gaze to the lobby, not sure what she was looking at.
“What is it?”
“Remember that woman I saw in front of Natalie’s house?”
“Of course.” I was instantly on alert, leaning forward, craning my neck toward the lobby.
“I swear I just saw her, and she was in that glass elevator right in the middle. That’s the one that goes up to the penthouse, right?”
“Yes.” Frank rented the penthouse every once in a while. As a business expense. He had hosted parties, closed a few deals, and even taken me up there three unforgettable times. “But who would Natalie know with access, other than me?”
Susan shrugged, helpful as always.
I called over the waitress and ordered another drink. Susan said, “I thought you didn’t want any more.”
“I changed my mind.”
“You’re curious about that woman, aren’t you?”
“Of course,” I said. “You see her at Natalie’s house, then riding up to the penthouse a week or whatever later? Aren’t you dying to know more?”
“I guess, but I’m not sure that I want to just sit here.”
“Order a dessert. Or have another drink with me.”
“I don’t want a dessert. Steve and I are eating clean together. And you wanted me to drive, so I shouldn’t have another drink.”
“Then just sit there and enjoy my company,” I snapped. “But I’m going to see how this plays out.”
“We need to pick up the children, Lynette. Owen will flip out if I’m not there. And we don’t know anything about that woman. What if she’s staying in the penthouse and is in for the night? It’s not like we’re going to camp out in the Grill on a stakeout.”
“No, but you just said: we don’t know anything about this woman. And I want to. Come on, we don’t have to leave for an hour and a half or so, we might as well sit here for a while longer. One more drink.”
Susan finally agreed, as though she had any other choice, but one drink turned into two after the first hour was behind us. I wanted a third, both for the alcohol and the few extra minutes, but that was a push.
Fortunately, I didn’t have to ask.
Just over an hour later, I finally saw the mysterious woman for myself.
She came out of the elevator and sauntered through the lobby, her hair a mess.
My wheels weren’t just spinning, they were pirouetting all over the place.
Susan caught my expression. “What is it?” Then she followed my eyes. “Oh.”
“One more?” The waitress appeared at our table.
I was already standing. I looked down at my wallet and turned to Susan. “Put it on the Amex. I’ll be right back.”
Then I was out of the Grill and stomping through the lobby, making my way over to the front desk.
There was a line of four people waiting to check in or ask some idiot question or something else, but I wasn’t waiting. Instead I went to the far end of the counter where the person who appeared most in charge was thumbing through some sort of directory.
“My name is Lynette Wilder,” I announced, hoping that might mean something. I’m not sure it did, but the man came right over. His name tag read, Norman.
“Yes, Mrs. Wilder, how can I help you.”
“My husband, Frank Wilder, is a regular at this hotel.”
He nodded. “Yes, Mrs. Wilder.”
I took a risk, praying that I was wrong. “I’m a total ditz today, and can’t remember his schedule. I think Frank is supposed to be here, bu
t he’s not answering his phone. I’m in a hurry and don’t want to go all the way up to the penthouse if he’s not, and I definitely don’t want to intrude on someone else if he isn’t there at all. Would you mind calling up for me?”
Norman looked uncomfortable. He had a hard time meeting my eyes. I could tell that he was searching for some excuse, and I wasn’t going to let him.
“Look Norman, I’m going to need you to dial the penthouse and hand me the phone, unless you want a really big scene, starting in six seconds.”
“Mrs. Wilder …”
“Five … four …”
“Please …”
“Three … two …”
He picked up the phone, dialed, handed it to me.
My husband answered on the second ring.
I didn’t say anything, just handed the phone back to Norman, turned around, and ran out of the Broadway to see if I could find the woman who was sleeping with my husband.
Natalie’s friend, who was sleeping with my husband.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Wednesday Evening …
OLIVIA
I parked my Mercedes and got out of the car, nervously looking over my shoulder.
I was apparently spotted the last time, and that was what had created my current predicament.
Natalie’s street was empty, so I walked up her driveway, knocked on her front door, and waited for her to open it.
I shouldn’t have been surprised that Ryan opened the door — he did live there after all — but I was. Enough that it was work to recover my breath.
“Olivia,” he said, seeming surprised by his own smile. “It’s great to see you.”
He invited me in, then on the other side of the door, he embraced me, filling me with something I didn’t expect to feel. A twinge of longing, or maybe more like a spasm, a Charley horse in my heart, reminding me of all that I could have had but had always told myself I didn’t even want. Everything that might have been if Ryan hadn’t cheated, or decided that I wasn’t worth fighting for.
We pulled apart, then, inexplicably, we embraced again.
That one went on for longer, with my heart beating against his. I felt sure that those same feelings I was trying to stifle were also pouring from him. Was he sorry for what he did, and what he’d thrown away? Did he think about me during Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year — the season when I had no one and he had it all?
We broke apart again, but I couldn’t meet his eyes. Ryan’s stare was too intense, and the whole exchange felt surprisingly intimate, especially for someone who made their living getting penetrated by random men.
We parted just in time. Natalie walked into the foyer. I gave her my biggest, fakest smile, then widened my arms and, with a sugary sweet, Natalie! I pulled her into them.
She couldn’t hide her disgust, at least not from me. Natalie hated having me anywhere near her house. But that’s because she couldn’t have any idea that I was here to help her, or honestly, both of us.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, in a different tone than the one she certainly meant.
“I thought we could go out for a drink.”
Natalie gave me a look that Ryan couldn’t see: Fuck that and fuck you.
But she said, “I’m sorry, sweetie. But I can’t. It’s a school night.”
“It’s okay with me,” Ryan said. “I’ve got things around here. You two go out and have fun.”
“We could go to that Ale Mary’s place,” I pressed. “It’s a few minutes away.”
Natalie was relentless. “I promised Alec that I’d help him with his language arts homework.”
“I can do that,” Ryan offered.
“That’s okay,” Natalie shook her head. “We’ve already started.”
“Ryan can finish,” I said, my voice insistent. “I really need to talk to you. Tonight.”
“Sounds serious,” Ryan said. “You better go.”
Natalie smiled, to prove that it sounded like fun, even on a school night. “Okay, one drink! That sounds great.”
Then she tried to murder me with her eyes.
Fifteen minutes later we were sitting at a table in Ale Mary’s. I wouldn’t tell her anything on the way over, despite her asking, because I wanted to be sitting, with eye contact for sure, and drinks, if the servers were fast enough.
“You can’t just come into my house whenever you want. Remember? That’s part of why I’m letting you steal a quarter of all my fucking money. Literally.”
“This isn’t about any of the shit between us, Natalie. Something happened today.”
“With Victor?” I felt suddenly scared. “With Jade?”
Who’s Jade?
“No. With your friend Lynette.”
“Lynette?” That obviously scared her. “What happened with Lynette?”
“Frank was my regular, the one you were supposed to take. But since you called Victor and whined like a little bitch, the rhinoceros went back to me. As you know, he likes to meet at the Broadway, but apparently he isn’t smart enough to book a room for his escorts in a place that his wife doesn’t regularly frequent.”
“Shit.”
“Exactly. She accosted me outside the hotel, while I was waiting at the valet for my car.”
“I’m sorry,” Natalie said, seeming to mean it. “But you covered, right? What does this have to do with me?”
“She knows that we know each other.”
“How does she know that?”
“She saw me coming out of your house or something.”
“Double shit.”
“Yeah,” I agreed.
“Does she know … what I’m doing?” Natalie finally finished.
“I don’t see how she could, yet. But at this point I don’t think it would be all that hard to start putting things together. I know what I’d be doing if I were her, and yeah, I think your secret might be in trouble. Which is why I came over. Your secret is my secret, and more importantly, it’s my twenty-five percent.”
Everything changed on Natalie’s face. “Are you kidding me? You’re here because you’re worried about your cut?”
“Of course I’m worried about my cut. I don’t have a husband to help ensure my retirement, because you stole him from me.”
“He wasn’t your husband then.”
“Keep telling yourself that, sweetie.”
“I do. Just like I keep telling myself that it’s not your fault that you’ve turned into a total fucking bitch.”
“Watch it,” I growled.
This wasn’t going how I wanted it to, though I’m not really sure what I was hoping for.
“What am I supposed to do?” Natalie asked, sounding thoroughly defeated, enough to make me almost feel sorry.
“Just be aware. And be careful.”
“Fine. Are we done here? You can keep drinking. I’ll take a FASTr.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to ambush you like this.”
“Like hell you didn’t.”
She was right, but I didn’t acknowledge it. “Not to get personal, but is there anything else bothering you? We earn a lot more when we’re at our emotional best.”
“Wow. It’s like we’re becoming best friends all over again.”
“Is there anything I can help with, or not?”
After a moment of hesitation, Natalie said, “I don’t like what’s going on with Victor and some of the clients he’s booking.”
The waitress interrupted and we ordered our drinks. Natalie ordered a strawberry daiquiri, I think to be obnoxious.
After she left I said, “Be more specific. What don’t you like about Victor?”
“How he’s treating us.”
“Victor’s an asshole,” I shrugged. “What do you want?”
“There are different levels of being an asshole. Sure, he’s an asshole to me, and he’s probably an asshole to you, but I doubt it’s the same for either of us as it is for Jade.”
“Who’s Jade? That�
��s the second time you’ve mentioned her.”
“You don’t know Jade?”
“I don’t really know any of the girls. I’m in and out. But good for you, wanting to be their mommy.”
“He’s sending girls on some rough parties, Olivia. Shady guys. It sounds like bad shit.”
“You do know you’re an entitled, spoiled brat, right? That’s the sort of shit that happens in this business all the time. It’s not always nice puppies sniffing around your pretty little pussy, Nat. Sometimes there are wolves.”
She shook her head. “That’s not what Victor promises. These girls aren’t standing on street corners, they’re getting booked for two grand an hour.”
“And you don’t think a client’s entitled to what he wants for that amount of cash?”
“Would you take a client that made you uncomfortable?”
“Of course. I have plenty of times.”
“Twice? And would you now?”
“No. And no, because I’ve earned it, Natalie. But like always, you just want to fly to the top without any of the work. Spend without earning. Start a family before you have a relationship.”
“That isn’t what this is about.”
“It’s what everything is about.”
We stared at each other.
“I know that you’re just being a bitch because that’s how shit is between us now, but I also know that deep inside you care. So I’m going to keep talking, and you’re going to listen.”
The slut had a point, and so I said nothing.
“I don’t know much because none of the girls want to talk about it. But I do know that the stuff isn’t just rough, these guys are putting on a show and livestreaming it. That’s bad enough, and I think there’s more that no one’s willing to say. I told Victor and he promised to look into it, but I’m not sure that he will, or that he really cares.”
“Victor is all about the money. He’ll look into it if he said he would, but that doesn’t mean that it’ll stop. I imagine he’ll just get better at vetting the girls, making sure that he only sends the really damaged ones who are actually down for that sort of shit, or the ones who are too meek to squeak a word about it.”
