Lock

by Kimberly Knight

  Sometimes I would daydream of that day. My prince would come up the elevator, tell Madam that he was in love with me, and then he would take me to Hawaii—or anywhere really. The only sunshine I ever saw was on the balcony, and I only got to go out there when Madam wasn't home and I didn't have any rooms to clean.

  "Zell," Madam clipped as she stood in the doorway to the room I was cleaning.

  I turned. "Yes, ma'am?"

  "Gather all the girls, and tell them to put their best pieces on. I want you to get our finest scotch and wait to serve it in the sitting room. Tell them to hurry."

  "Yes, ma'am." I didn't hesitate or question her. When she told anyone to do something, we did it. I started to hurry away, but her words stopped me.

  "And Zell."

  I faced her. "Yes, ma'am?"

  "See if you can find something nicer to wear."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  I ran up the back stairs one floor up and knocked on Erin's door because it was the first one and diagonal from mine at the end. She opened it a few moments later. "Erin. Hurry!" I whisper-hissed.

  "What's wrong, Zell?"

  "Madam said to gather all the girls and tell them to put on their best pieces and go down to the sitting room. She wants me to dress nice too and have the best scotch waiting. But I don't know what the best scotch is or how to serve it."

  Erin's eyes widened. "That means a VIP is coming."

  "A VIP?"

  "A very important person, or in this case a very important client."

  I frowned. "Who could that be?"

  Erin shrugged. "Any number of men actually."

  "Like who?"

  "The mayor, a judge, someone on Wall Street."

  "They all come here?"

  Erin moved past me and knocked on Carla's door. "Yes."

  "Wow. What should I wear?"

  "Well, we wear lingerie, but since you're only serving the drinks, I'll find you something to wear." Carla opened her door, and Erin told her what was going on before she turned to me again. "Go tell the other girls, and I'll get you something to change into."

  I did just that, telling Leanne, Clarissa, Tifarah, and Krissy, who had recently joined the others, what Madam had told me. Then I went back to Erin's room. Her door was open, and I entered. She had a little black dress on her bed. "Is that for me?" I pointed at the dress.

  She looked up from her mirror where she was touching up her makeup. "Yes. It should fit you."

  "Where did you get it?"

  "I was wearing it the night Madam's men …" I waited for her to continue, but instead, she said, "Go get dressed. You don't want to be late."

  I gave a quick nod, grabbed the dress off of the bed, and went to my room. After slipping it on, I stared in the mirror, wondering what I should do with my blonde hair. Even with Tifarah trimming it over the years, it was still long and to the back of my knees.

  I decided to leave it down.

  Slipping on the black flats that I wore all the time, I left my bedroom to go to the main floor. The girls were all waiting in various colored bra and panties, and it looked as though their hair and makeup had been refreshed. They all stood in a line facing the elevator, waiting.

  My gaze met Erin's, and she nudged her head toward the coffee table, where a glass bottle with amber liquid sat on a black tray next to two glasses. I picked up the tray and mouthed, "Thank you," just as the sound of heels came from the stairs two floors up. I moved to join the line of girls. Once Madam was on the main level, she walked to each girl as though she was inspecting them, her hands behind her back. Then she made it to me.

  "Where did you get this?" She flicked the spaghetti strap of the dress.

  I swallowed. "Erin, Madam."

  Madam looked over at Erin and then back at me. "Very well."

  The elevator dinged, and my heart started to beat faster in my chest. I wasn't sure why. All I would be doing would be sticking out the tray for the person to grab his scotch. I wasn't even going to utter a word, yet I felt as though I was going to pass out. It was my first time ever seeing a client, and when he stepped out of the elevator, he wasn't alone.

  A younger version of him followed behind him.

  A younger version that was maybe my age.

  A younger version that made my belly flip and the tray in my hand shake.

  I was unable to take my gaze off the younger version, starting with the way his dark brown hair was a little long and fluffed in some haphazard way, to his suit that encased his body, to his eyes as they met mine. I couldn't tell what color they were, but I wanted to get lost in them. It was the first time I'd seen a boy around my age in five years. I'd seen boys before when I would go to the park, but I'd only spent my time feeding the ducks and enjoying the sunshine. Now that I'd read a few romance novels, I knew there was more out there. I wanted to find someone to love me.

  "Frank," Madam greeted, opening her arms as she walked toward him. "It's so good to see you."

  They hugged, and Frank replied, "You too, Saffron. It's been a while."

  "Yes, but all is well here. This must be Frank Jr." She hugged him too, and I smiled. Frank Jr.—now I knew his name.

  "Hello," Frank Jr. replied.

  Madam pulled back. "We've actually met before, but it's been several years. You've grown into quite the fine young man."

  I'd never seen Madam be so kind.

  "He has," Frank replied and clapped Frank Jr. on the back.

  "Here." Madam reached for the scotch on my tray and took both glasses. She turned and handed both Franks a glass. "Something for you to sip on while you decide."

  Decide what? I wondered to myself.

  Frank Jr. waved off the scotch. "No, thank you."

  Madam smiled. "Oh, come on. It's your birthday."

  "I'm more of a vodka guy."

  Madam snapped her fingers at me, and I took that to mean I should get vodka for Frank Jr. I had no idea what vodka was, but when I rushed over to where the liquor was, a bottle was labeled Grey Goose Vodka. I poured some into an empty glass, and when I turned around to walk back, Frank Jr's gaze was on me. My face heated, and I looked down at the floor, not able to return his stare. Why was he staring at me?

  I handed him his drink, my gaze on the gray wood floor.

  "Thank you," he whispered, and it caused me to look up at him. He had blue eyes like the ocean in Hawaii that I'd dreamed about numerous times.

  "You're welcome," I whispered back.

  I stepped back in line, not knowing what else to do. I did notice that Frank Jr. didn't drink any of the vodka, and I wondered why. Did I make a mistake? I hoped not, because that would make Madam upset, and with my luck, she'd lock me in my room for six months.

  "Now, son"—Frank squeezed Frank Jr's shoulder—"tonight, you can have any one of these ladies that you want. More than one if you’d like."

  My heart, which had finally returned to its regular beat, felt as though it was cracking in my chest as I listened to what Frank said. Of course, that was why they were here.

  "I told you I wasn't a virgin," Frank Jr. said in a low voice.

  Frank chuckled. "That may be, but any one of these ladies will make sure you're well taken care of. You might learn some things. It's your birthday, enjoy it."

  Frank Jr. replied, his voice still low, "Whores aren't my thing."

  "These are the finest ones around, son. You'll be in safe hands. Take your pick, and then I can pick mine."

  "And if I don't?" Frank Jr. asked.

  "Then you'll piss me off," Frank stated, giving Frank Jr. a stern look.

  "I can assure you," Madam cut in, "all of my girls are clean and well trained. They aren't like high school girls." She chuckled.

  Frank Jr. looked at his father another moment and then stepped toward the line of girls. He still hadn't taken a sip of the vodka in his hand, and that made me nervous. I wasn't sure what Madam would do to me if Frank Jr. asked for something else. Was Grey Goose not a good brand?

  Just lik
e Madam had done not ten minutes prior, Frank Jr. walked by each girl, looking them up and down from their heads to their feet and back up. When he got to the end, I expected him to walk back down the line because he hadn't made a decision yet. Instead, he stopped in front of me, looking back at Frank and Madam. "I choose her," he said.

  My eyes widened as Madam said in a raised voice, "Zell isn't one of the girls."

  "She's not?" Frank Jr. questioned and turned his head to look at me.

  I lowered my gaze while I waited for Madam to respond. I expected her to say something about me being her daughter, and therefore, off-limits. Instead, she said, "She's never been with a man before. She wouldn't know what to do. Pick one of the others. They will show you a good time."

  My face got hot again, and I was certain I looked like a tomato. I couldn't believe that Madam had told Frank Jr. I was a virgin. I'd read about a virgin once. She met a guy with a helicopter and had weird sex with him. She seemed to like it, but that didn't mean I was ready for this handsome boy to know I was a virgin.

  "Is that true?" Frank Jr. asked as he looked into my eyes. "Are you a virgin?" I nodded, not able to speak. He turned back to Madam and his father. "Then, yes, I want her."

  "She's not even groomed," Madam stated to Frank.

  "Son, why don't you pick someone else?"

  "With all due respect, Father, you brought me here to, what was it? Become a man? Being a man is choosing who I want to sleep with, and I choose …" He paused for a moment. "Zell."

  The tray I was still holding fell from my grasp and clattered onto the floor. Madam's gaze snapped to me, and my eyes widened before I quickly bent to pick it up. My heart was beating so fast in my chest that I was certain Frank Jr. could hear it. I kept my gaze on the floor, not able to look at anyone. I couldn't believe this was happening.

  "Frank," Madam clipped.

  I held my breath as I waited for Frank to reply.

  "It's not like they're related, Saffron."

  "But …" She hesitated.

  "The boy wants who the boy wants."

  "At least let me have her speak with the girls for a little training first."

  "That won't be necessary," Frank Jr. stated. My eyes darted up to see that he was staring at me.

  "Son—"

  "A man can dominate the bedroom, Father. I don't need Zell to be trained. I can do it."

  I swallowed and pinched myself to see if I was dreaming. I wasn't.

  Everyone was silent, and all I could hear was the clock on the wall near the fireplace.

  Tick tock …

  Tick tock …

  Tick tock …

  "All right. It's your birthday, and I told you that you can have whoever you wanted. Which room should they use?" Frank asked Madam.

  She sighed. "Follow me."

  Frank Jr. turned and started to walk behind Madam. Krissy nudged me to follow, and I hurried behind them to the first room on the right. Madam opened the door, and Frank Jr. stepped inside. Just before I crossed the threshold, Madam grabbed my upper arm tightly.

  "Don't embarrass me. Do you understand?"

  I nodded.

  "You do whatever he asks. I don't care if you don't know how or if it hurts. He is to be satisfied, and if he isn't, it will be your head."

  I swallowed, knowing she meant it. After all, she’d gotten rid of Bev in a blink.

  I'd finally gotten one over on my father.

  As the limo drove the few blocks from our apartment to the brothel, I thought about how I could get out of the so-called birthday gift. I didn't want to have sex with some whore, and why my father thought it would be something I'd be into was beyond me. I decided I would pick a woman and then scroll Instagram for an hour while she moaned and moved the bed as though we were fucking. That would be what I'd pay her for—not actual sex. It would be a win-win for both of us.

  Then I saw Zell.

  My first thought was how in the world someone so young could end up as a prostitute already. And she wasn't only young, she was stunning and easily the prettiest girl I'd ever laid eyes on. She had this sweet, innocent look to her, and that confused me even more. Plus, I'd never seen someone with such long hair before.

  And then I realized she was nervous.

  Maybe she wasn't a whore like the women wearing next to nothing. She wasn't dressed like them, she had no makeup on, and her hair wasn't styled with curls—or styled at all. I didn't need some prostitute when I could have any girl at school give me head at the snap of my fingers, so I took a chance and chose her.

  I smiled to myself as I sat on the end of the bed, and the door shut behind Zell. "You can relax."

  Her azure eyes met mine. "I'm not nervous."

  "Then, I'm the fucking King of England." I chuckled.

  "You are?"

  A smile slowly crept across my face as I was amused by her banter. "All right, maybe you aren't nervous." But she was. I could tell by the way she looked away from my gaze, the way she wrung her hands in front of her, and by the way she bit her bottom lip as though she was freaking out.

  Zell didn't say anything, and so I said, "Take a seat. We aren't going to fuck."

  Her gaze snapped back to mine again. "We aren't?"

  I shook my head. "No, we're not."

  She moved and got down on her knees in front of me. A moment flashed through my head of her reaching for my belt to release my dick. I did want that but not under these circumstances, even if it was an upscale brothel on the Upper East Side. I was attracted to Zell, and if she went to my school or I saw her at some party, I wouldn't hesitate to seal the deal with her.

  "Please?" she begged. "We have to."

  "No, we don't," I stated firmly.

  Her bottom lip started to tremble, and she whispered, "Please?"

  "Hey"—I cupped her cheek—"why are you going to cry?"

  "Madam will …" she trailed off.

  "Yeah?"

  "She will be mad if I don't satisfy you."

  "Satisfy me?" I chuckled. "Is that how you talk?"

  "I don't understand."

  I lowered my hand. "Well, understand this: we aren't sleeping together. You get a free pass. I won't tell Madam or whatever the fuck you call her that we didn't sleep together. I'll tell her that you satisfied me in every way possible, and then I will be gone. You'll never see me again."

  "You're going to lie?"

  "Of course, I am. I'm not some sick fuck that wants to take your virginity."

  "Then what do we do?"

  "First of all, stand the fuck up." She stood without hesitation. "Now, I don't know"—I shrugged—"braid your hair or something."

  She reached behind her back, gathered her long blonde hair, and started to actually braid it.

  "Are you serious?" I questioned.

  "I thought this was what you wanted?"

  I pulled out my phone. "What I want is for this hour or whatever to pass so I can get the fuck out of here and be done with this day. My father is crazy, and I'd much rather be partying with my friends. No offense."

  "So, you don't want me to braid my hair?"

  I stared at her for several moments. Was she for real? How was she not understanding that we were going to fake everything and the night be over?

  "How old are you?" Even though she looked about my age, she had to be much younger—which freaked me out—because she was so naïve.

  "Seventeen, almost eighteen."

  I balked. "What school do you go to?"

  "School?"

  I nodded slightly. "Yeah, you know, where you have classes."

  "Oh." She smiled, and it was the first time I saw a bit of happiness cross her face. "Erin teaches me."

  "Erin? Who's Erin?"

  "One of the girls. She used to be a teacher before she came here, and Madam has made her my teacher for as long as I can remember."

  "So, you're homeschooled?"

  Zell shrugged. "I guess you can say that."

  I supposed that explained some thin
gs. I didn't know any kids who were homeschooled, so maybe they didn't know how to recognize sarcasm. "Well, I don't want you to braid your hair unless you want to. Let's just sit here for a while, and then we can leave. Sound good?" I suggested.

  "Sure." She continued to stand.

  "You can sit on the bed if you want. I won't bite."

  "Okay." Zell moved to sit behind me, her back against the metal-barred headboard.

  Scrolling through Insta, my friends were at a party, as usual, while I was stuck in a room and my father was down the hall cheating on my mother with a whore. It wasn't the first time he'd cheated on her. I'd seen him numerous times with various women getting in and out of his limo. At first, I thought they were business associates, but then they would kiss, and I had the real answer as to who they were. While my mother was at home, drinking her nightly martini, my father was getting laid. Like tonight.

  I hated him.

  As I sat on the end of the bed, I thought to myself that maybe bringing me to the brothel was his way of making me follow in his footsteps. I was already selling for him—for the family business, and now he had introduced me to prostitutes. Was he grooming me to be like him?

  "Frank Jr.?"

  I snorted. "It's Frankie."

  "Oh," Zell breathed. "I like that better."

  I grinned, still looking at my phone. "Me too."

  "I was just wondering why you don't want to have sex with me."

  I paused for a moment and then turned around, bending my knee to rest it on the bed, my other foot on the floor. "Don't get me wrong, princess. I'd fuck you in a heartbeat."

  "Then why did you say we aren't going to?"

  "Because you don't want to." I honestly didn't think any of the women at the brothel wanted to. Sure, maybe the money was good, but was it really something they enjoyed? And the way Zell reacted when I chose her … I was almost certain she didn't want to, especially since she was a virgin.