by Nolon King
“He can’t do that.”
“He absolutely can.”
“It isn’t right.”
I shrugged. “It’s all relative. These girls are getting a lot of money. You’ve lost perspective because you’re doing this to pay off your five-figure impulse shopping sprees.”
“Stop being so mean to me!” Natalie blurted.
“I’m just talking business. We have the world’s most intimate business, but oddly, we need to keep our emotions out of it. I know how Victor thinks. And in his mind, so long as the jobs are okay by the contract, the girls are obligated to fulfill them. They’re doing a difficult job, sure, but they’re being well compensated.”
She shook her head. “It isn’t congruent. If Victor wants to build a world-class ring of girls, then he can’t be operating this way. Even when you take all of the emotion out, it’s still bad business.”
Natalie was absolutely right.
Our drinks arrived. Her had an umbrella that was twice as big as it needed to be.
“What about your clients?” I asked.
“They’re fine. I had a few I wasn’t happy with, but right now I like them all. When something is off, like fucking Frank, thanks for that, I tell Victor and he blocks the guy. And I appreciate that, but we’re not talking about me.”
Except that we were. And I wanted to know more. Because it was bullshit that Natalie was getting pick of the litter, which she very clearly was. I didn’t like anything she was saying, not about the other girls, nor how it was going to affect me. It sounded bad. Maybe terrible. I hadn’t suffered anything as awful as livestreaming, but I’d dealt with my share of less-than-desirable clients. Frank was the worst of my guys. He was disgusting, but he was also easy enough and I knew what to do to minimize the stomach-turning aspects of servicing him. It was only an hour and he always tipped, with none of that going to Victor. But he was the one I wanted to drop, and with a snap of her fingers, Natalie had sent him right back to me.
It was easy to see. Soon I would be standing in line for Natalie’s sloppy seconds. Any of the men she refused to sleep with. Clearly my star was falling.
I told myself that it didn’t matter — Natalie needed to be a star because twenty-five percent of her light would be shining on me — and tried to ignore the truth that she would be out of the game the second she could.
I’d heard it firsthand. Not from the other girls, but from my clients, wanting to talk about the MILF. If they hadn’t been with Elle, they wanted to know about her. If they had, they wanted to share. Berto Reyes used to be my regular, then he tried the MILF, came back to me once, and I haven’t seen him since. I’m sure he’s one of Natalie’s now.
So many things in this life she’d stolen from me.
I’d been off my game for a while now. It was time to reinvent myself. Climb back to the top and reclaim what was mine.
“To the game,” I said, raising my glass.
“To the game,” Natalie echoed, each of us meaning it differently.
We clinked, and drank.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Saturday Afternoon …
NATALIE
I’d been avoiding Lynette since long before she found out about Frank and Olivia.
Museum night? “No thanks! I promised the kids we’d go to Inside Scoop and watch Stranger Things!”
Game night with the girls? “Oh my God, I know it’s totally different playing with you, but that’s all the children want to do lately! If I see another board game, I swear I’m going to barf.”
Book swap? “That’s a great idea! Ryan just got home and I promised him we’d do something as a family, but I do have a box of books I can drop by, if that will help.”
I’d let all her calls go to voicemail and replied by text, and I’d let Ryan pick up the kids so that I wouldn’t run into her at school. But it was only a matter of time before she tracked me down, now that she knew about Olivia.
But I had completely forgotten to come up with a reason to cancel Family Day with the Wilders. And I think the prospect of living it up on Frank’s yacht was the only reason Ryan had come home.
I wondered if I could fake a migraine, or something worse. Pregnancy. Cancer.
My marriage was a mess, Lynette was on the hunt, and — fucking hell — an entire day with Frank, the troll who had actually laughed while spraying me with his man jam and asking me if I wanted him to pull my hair.
I had no idea how I was going to keep my secret from coming out. Today was the day my family would finally realize I was a monster. Ryan would look innocent by comparison.
Frank won’t say anything, I argued, because he doesn’t want Lynette to know.
Lynette can interrogate me all she wants about Olivia. I’ll swear she must’ve seen someone else, claim Olivia’s been out of town.
Ryan can believe whatever the fuck he wants; I’m leaving him anyway.
I just have to protect the kids.
“What do you want to listen to?” Ryan asked the children as he started the engine.
We listened to Taylor Swift all the way to the docks, then parked and walked a few hundred yards to the Wilders’ slip. Lynette was in peak form, wearing a hat that was wide enough to gather a seagull’s crap within one-mile radius, carrying a brightly colored beverage with an impossibly bulbous bottom, and giving us a wave that was a little too over the top, even for her.
“Monroes!” she yelled. “Happy Family Day!”
Go to hell, Lynette.
I didn’t see Drew as we boarded — hopefully he had fallen overboard and drowned — but Frank was already cheerfully drunk. He leered at me, right in front of my family and his wife. “Natalie … Monroes.”
He nodded and took a drink.
I imagined myself driving an ice pick right through his eye.
Drew ran out onto the deck yelling, “Everyone is here to play with me!”
And goddammit, I wanted to die.
As the captain pulled away from the dock, it took everything I had not to jump overboard.
But Frank offered Ryan a drink, and the two of them settled into a conversation, if you call Ryan guzzling expensive bourbon while Frank rambled a conversation.
Lynette was ridiculously friendly toward me. Almost like she was still sorry for her son calling me out as the hooker I was. She pressed a daiquiri on me and poured herself another.
I kept on trying to keep everyone together. I didn’t want to be alone with Lynette, or anyone on the boat. Except for my children. The yacht would be great if it were just the three of us and the captain.
Everyone was playing well … and playing along. So far.
Lena settled down on a lounge chair and pulled a coloring book and some markers from her tiny green backpack.
Alec and Drew headed for the front of the boat. To do what, I have no idea.
Lynette slugged her daiquiri and commented on how gorgeous the ocean was as their bajillion dollar yacht cut through the waves.
“Natalie,” she said, friendly as ever, but something in her tone raised my hackles. Here it came. “Come downstairs. You have to see the new spa Frank had put in.”
How could I say no? Even though deep down I knew, this was where she would put the screws to me.
Lynette was six steps off the stairs before she reeled around to face me with an accusing finger and murder in her eyes, slurring, “How could you do this to me?”
I had no idea what to say because I didn’t know what she knew. Or what she suspected.
“Is this about Alec punching Drew? I talked to him about it, I swear.”
“How could you be friends with a woman who slept with my husband? A home wrecker.”
Then she started to cry, almost silently.
Whew. Lynette didn’t suspect me, at least not yet. She probably didn’t know Olivia’s name. It wasn’t like she would ask Frank. This situation could be salvaged.
But I had to play it smart, and that meant following the number-one rule of telling an ex
cellent lie: starting with a reasonable truth.
“I’m so sorry that you had to find out about that. At least this way.” I shook my head in solidarity, then went to give her a hug. Lynette seemed surprised, and sank into it.
“I did know about Frank, but that’s a really hard thing to tell someone. It’s why I haven’t been answering your calls or responding much to your texts. It’s why I’ve refused all of your invitations. It was too hard, all the lying to you.” I shook my head to let Lynette know just how sorry I was. “But I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair to you. I’ve been talking to her, convincing her to end it. She’s done with him. You have nothing to worry about, Lynette.”
She pulled out of the hug and her face softened. “Thank you, Natalie.”
Then: “What’s her name?”
I shook my head. “I can’t tell you that, Lynette. But I promise, it’s over.”
Her face changed, full of rage again. She fell a step back, waggling that accusing finger rising at my face. “I didn’t think you’d tell me the truth. That’s why I’m looking into it.”
Even slurred, Lynette’s words were clearly a threat.
But I had no chance to respond.
“Lunch is ready,” he called from the top of the stairs, breaking up our little powwow.
Lynette gave me a dirty look before storming up the stairs, leaning heavily against the railing. I waited until she was all the way up before I followed. As I reached the top, Ryan asked, “What was all that about?”
I didn’t know what he’d heard — probably nothing — but I also didn’t care.
“Disagreement about the fundraiser,” I answered.
“Well, knock it off, you’re ruining Family Day.”
I spent the rest of the afternoon down below, pretending to be seasick.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Monday Evening …
I was in a bad place.
Click.
Another purchase, another hit of dopamine. I was feeling a little bit better one purchase at a time.
What was the cure for not knowing when the other shoe might drop? Buying a few new pairs. One for me, and since the children were both growing so fast, one for each of them.
I shouldn’t have. But I told myself that it was only two hours of work to pay for them, and if it helped me get through the next few weeks while I dealt with Ryan’s bullshit and Lynette’s investigation and Olivia’s extortion, it was worth it.
Click.
A 120 dollar pair of panties from Mirror Mirror. I’d wanted to get them when I was getting the dress, but felt embarrassed to ask for them. Silly since Bennett had spent twenty-five thousand to fuck me, but it was the truth. As the receipt hit my inbox, I told myself that the hardest-working snatch in the neighborhood deserved a little kiss of luxury.
I loved the buzz. The hit that spending gave me, whether I needed the things I was buying or not. I could always tell myself that I did, that I deserved them. But I didn’t and I knew it.
The guilt made it even better.
Click.
Another black dress, slightly different than the other dozen in my closet.
More LuluLemon, though I had more than enough.
I was out of control, and it felt good
This was so stupid. I was so stupid. Why was I in my bedroom alone with my laptop, buying stuff that I already knew I’d regret, before I even clicked on it?
But the idea of walking out into the living room where Ryan was helping Alec with his homework while Lena watched TV — I couldn’t make myself do it. He’d been giving me the silent treatment since our day of yachting with the Wilders. I didn’t give a shit if he talked to me, but the kids clammed up too when we were both in the room, as if they weren’t sure whether they were allowed to say anything until things went back to normal.
I found a gorgeous cashmere sweater at Fancy That! and bought three — pink, cream, and a periwinkle that I almost wanted to get two of. See? I still have some restraint.
I was buying to buy, because I could. And maybe because in a strange way, even depleting my account as it did, it was a reminder of my power to earn, and all of the hard work that I’d done. It proved that I wasn’t dependent on Ryan.
Click. Click. Click.
“Mom!”
Alec yelled out from somewhere, maybe from his bedroom. What happened to Ryan?
I slammed my laptop shut, jumped up from my bed, and headed out of the room, grateful for the interruption.
His door was open. I walked in just as Alec was shoving his sister onto the floor.
Her ass hit the wood and she started to cry.
“Alec, stop! What’s going on in here?”
“She won’t leave!” He jabbed a finger at his sister. “I keep telling Lena to get out of my room, but she won’t listen!”
“Okay, calm down. Why are you so upset? It isn’t just because your sister is here.”
“Yes it is!” Then he ran to his bed and collapsed onto it, rolling so that his back was to me as he was swallowed by a fit of sobs.
I turned to Lena. “You’re not in trouble, but I need you to go play in your room while I talk to Alec. Can you do that?”
Lena nodded.
“Where’s your father?”
“He’s watching a movie downstairs.”
Hope you’re enjoying Netflix, asshole.
Lena closed the door behind her.
I went over to Alec’s bed and sat. I touched his shoulder and he shrugged me away, but then he surrendered and let me hold him while he cried.
Once his tears had eased up enough that he could talk, I asked him again what was wrong. Turns out that some of the kids at school were still saying bad things about me. Alec wouldn’t say what, but I had an idea and it filled my stomach with a syrupy acid and made me glad that Ryan was being an absentee father downstairs.
Alec was suffering, and it was all my fault.
I said things that probably didn’t help much.
Those boys don’t know what they’re talking about.
You can just ignore them. Some people are just jealous.
Sticks and stones can break your bones, but words will never hurt you.
I couldn’t believe that I had resorted to Sticks and Stones, especially when words could hurt more than anything else. And worse, I was a coward because I should have been saying something like, Do you have any questions? Is there anything I can help you to understand?
But I couldn’t say that, because what if he asked me? Was I really ready to explain?
With all those platitudes, who was I trying to convince — my son or myself?
“You know your sister is only trying to help you, right? Because she loves you?”
“She’s really annoying. She won’t stop bothering me.”
“That’s because she knows you’re upset.”
“It’s because she wants to annoy me.”
“She isn’t trying to be annoying, sweetie. She—”
“You’re just saying that because you’re her mom. If Lena was your sister, then she’d probably annoy you, too.”
“Probably,” I admitted, and that made him laugh. “But I’d also probably think that you were annoying.”
I tickled him right in his ribs, and got him to laugh even harder.
“I want to see you two getting along better.” I put a hand over my stomach, though it did nothing to quell the butterflies or the burn. “I think we need more time as a family.”
It’s what I needed to say, and what my son needed to hear.
That’s what I was best at. Being their mom. Helping people. Listening and understanding.
All things in life that didn’t pay nearly enough.
I called Lena back into the room and got them both laughing before they said goodnight to each other and I tucked them both in. I didn’t say shit to Ryan, hoping he’d stay downstairs until after I fell asleep. It was my night off, and I didn’t feel like servicing a client for free.
I had t
o be smarter and make a better plan. Find a better way of dealing with the stress than a shopping spree. I needed better, stronger allies at school, and to not feel so woefully alone.
I knew exactly where to start.
I opened the Constellation directory, found Theresa’s number, and dialed.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Wednesday Evening …
JADE
I couldn’t stop laughing. I’d never been so high in my life.
This was how I wanted to feel every day for the rest of forever.
I didn’t have any bookings tonight. Neither did Brandi and Amber, so Brandi thought it was a good idea if we went out with her friend Mark, and his friends Jason and Robbie. Three of us, three of them. I wasn’t so sure, but it sounded better than wasting away in my room drawing crap that didn’t matter and that no one would ever see. So I put on my jeans and a light sweater, instead of the getup that I typically left in, and went out for a night to remember.
I asked if I would have to fuck anyone. It would have been fine either way, but I like to know ahead of time if possible. Brandi said probably not and that sounded good. Mark did want a blow job, but not from Brandi since they were friends and that would be weird, and Jason had disappeared with Amber after a spell, so I didn’t mind, and then after I did Mark, he gave me more of my share of that little fiesta that we’d been passing around.
And now here I was, definitely the most fucked up of my friends.
“You’re going to have to be quiet before we go inside,” Amber warned me again. “Victor’s going to be pissed if he sees you like this.”
I thought of something so hilarious, that I couldn’t stop laughing as I delivered the punchline. “Then Victor can drink it!”
The two of them looked at each other, probably wondering what they should do with me. Amber turned to Brandi. “Take her straight to her room, okay?”
