by Anne, Melody
“Thank you,” Jewell said. “Might I have your name?” She was through waiting for the woman to introduce herself.
“I apologize. I should have told you that already,” she replied with a slight laugh that didn’t reach her eyes. “McKenzie Beaumont.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Beaumont.” No, it wasn’t.
McKenzie’s hands had long, slender fingers, and Jewell noticed she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.
For the next hour, Ms. Beaumont asked all sorts of questions that Jewell had never been asked before in a job interview, but the longer they sat in the small, stark room, the happier Jewell became. If she’d blown the interview completely, the woman wouldn’t continue wasting her time, would she?
“Do you have family, Jewell?”
This question made Jewell pause. Should she lie? What if the woman thought her personal life was too much of a hindrance and then didn’t give her the job? With a pang in her heart, she spoke. “My mother passed away a couple of months ago. I have no family left.” It felt like acid traveling up her throat as she denied the existence of her brother to this woman, but she had no choice. There was no need for her potential employer to know about Justin.
“And friends? Do you have close friends?” What a strange question to be asked, Jewell thought, but she didn’t care. On this subject she could easily speak the truth.
“No. I moved back home about six months ago to take care of my mother before she died. I had to leave everyone behind in California. I haven’t had time yet to make new friends here. I’m not a really social person, anyway. I much prefer to do my job and then relax alone at home.”
That was somewhat true. Sure, she’d enjoyed going to happy hour with her friends back in California, but her idea of a perfect weekend was sitting in front of a fireplace in the winter with a glass of inexpensive wine in one hand and a good book in the other. She didn’t need an exciting social life. She’d been teased about that, though good-naturedly, of course. That was California, after all, where the game of life was all about being seen.
“Would you like to hear about the position, Jewell?”
The intensity in Ms. Beaumont’s eyes made Jewell feel suddenly tempted to turn around and bolt from the room. She hadn’t the foggiest idea what this woman would say next and she wasn’t at all sure she wanted to know.
“Yes, of course. I’m willing to learn any job, and I guarantee I’ll do it well.” Those were the words that came out.
“Very good. We are an exclusive escort service. The clients we have like their escorts to be, let’s say, accommodating.”
When she didn’t elaborate, Jewell searched her mind to think of anything she knew about escort services. Weren’t they places people could go to if they needed a date for the night who wouldn’t humiliate them? Such as a cousin’s wedding, when they didn’t want to go alone, or a high school reunion, where they needed someone to be pawing all over them. That couldn’t be so bad. They weren’t prostitution places, right? She’d just have to go out on some dates. She could do that.
“I have to admit that I wasn’t expecting that, but I think it would be fun to be a part of an escort service, to meet new people each week and to entertain clients.” Jewell actually thought it would be far less than fun, but Ms. Beaumont didn’t need to hear that.
“I am glad you feel that way, because we guarantee our clients one hundred percent satisfaction. Whatever they want, they get.”
“Whatever they want?” Whoa! Jewell could have no doubt now what the woman was saying. This wasn’t a typical escort service, at least as she understood them. Maybe other people associated escort services with sex and maybe she was naïve, but right now she was scared. This was a place that catered to the needs of men who would want things from Jewell she’d never before given any man.
Could she do that? Could she sell her body? She wanted to recoil in horror, to tell this…madam what she thought of her disgusting business, but the image of her brother’s tear-soaked cheeks popped into her mind, the pain so vivid in his eyes. Was her “virtue” more important than his happiness?
“I need a job, Ms. Beaumont, a job that pays well. I think we would be a good fit for each other.”
The gleam that popped into the woman’s eyes told Jewell that she’d said the right thing. “Then you are at the right place, Jewell. Our escorts live here, and they go through a training period, paid of course, while they get ready to be the best they can at their job. Do you currently have anything you need to tie up before moving in?”
Wow! This was moving fast. Jewell wanted to run, wanted to hide, but it sounded as if she’d gotten the job, and she refused to run away from it.
“No. I can easily shift everything and move in,” she said, happy to know she could escape from the shelter and from the abandoned building she went to when she needed a break.
“Perfect. Then you will start today.”
With those curt words, Ms. Beaumont stood and walked from the room, leaving Jewell sitting alone, pondering what she should do. Was the interview over? Did she get up and walk out? She hadn’t left a phone number with Ms. Beaumont — she didn’t have a number to leave. So she waited right where she was.
After about ten minutes, when Jewell was wondering whether she could even get up and move around without endangering her new job, another woman entered the room. This one was older, with a kind smile on her face.
“Hello, Jewell; I’m Betty. Ms. Beaumont has informed me that you are joining our team. Our bosses are wonderful to work for and I think you’ll be happy with your decision. Please follow me.”
Betty left the room immediately, and Jewell scrambled to catch up to her. When they entered what looked like a spa, Jewell’s nerves had calmed somewhat. This really wouldn’t be so bad. And maybe she could even work there for the six weeks until she got her brother, saving everything, and then slip away before she had to do anything that she felt would compromise her integrity. It really depended how long their training took.
“The showers are over there. Please take your time.”
Betty handed her a thick, soft towel and then disappeared. Jewell stood there awkwardly for a moment, and then decided that a hot shower, one she didn’t have to rush through, sounded like a perfect start to her new job. After scrubbing herself, she was then led to a tub, where attendants practically scratched her skin off.
She’d never been bathed by another person — okay, certainly not since her toddler years. Thoroughly humiliated, she had to fight back tears. This is for Justin, she kept reminding herself. Things got easier after that.
She was whisked into a room where what they called beauty treatments began. Some were painful, some pleasant, but all of them changed her in one way or another. By the time the various cosmetologists were finished, her hair was softer than it had ever been, at least on her head, because virtually all the other hair on her body had been painfully removed. Her skin was silky, her face glowing — and her stomach still empty.
The people who ran the agency apparently liked the women who worked for them to be nearly anorexic. That was fine, Jewell supposed — she was used to going without meals. Each time she thought she couldn’t possibly endure another minute, she would just close her eyes and think of her brother. She could do anything for him, and if the brutal beauty routine was any indication of what she’d continue to go through, she probably was going to be doing anything, and everything.
Chapter Five
“Welcome, Mr. Knight. I hope you found us without too much trouble.”
Blake looked at the tastefully decorated “showroom” and felt nothing but scorn. Why was he here?
The room was done up in varying shades of beige and red, and it sported expensive crystal chandeliers and lamps, though the lighting was low. Elegantly dressed women — no fishnet stockings and thongs were on display here! — sat and chatted with potential clients, their voices low, the conversations muted.
He recognized a congressman in the
corner with a woman sitting on his lap and whispering in his ear, and the mayor in another corner, laughing as two women softly rubbed his inner thighs. Yes, the men wore shades and yes, they obviously thought the muted lighting would conceal their identity, but their arrogance wasn’t lost on Blake. He certainly had nothing to lose if someone said he was there — the opinions of others mattered nothing to him. The place guaranteed discretion, and no one in the room seemed in the least worried that their secrets would be shouted to the world. After all, they were all there for the same reasons, weren’t they? Curiosity — hunger.
“I thought the place was worth checking out,” Blake said coolly. “I haven’t decided if I will use your services.” There was no use in leading this woman on, but if he couldn’t even explain to himself why he was there, how would he explain it to her? Not that he owed anyone an explanation.
When he wanted a woman, he found one. It was that simple. His parents had died twenty-five years ago this month, and the anger that coursed through him on that account was stronger than any river he’d ever drifted down. That must be his reason for being here — an outlet for his inner rage.
“I think you will be quite satisfied with our selection,” McKenzie Beaumont said with a smile that told Blake he could indeed have whatever he wanted.
He looked around the room, but none of the women captured his fancy. He’d clearly made a mistake. The women were all stunning, but none of them did a thing for him. And he didn’t bed a woman without feeling a spark, without something about her making him want to take off his clothes — and hers.
“I agreed to come down here and look around. I’ll let you know if we can do business.”
He knew his money was wanted. Hell, it was wanted wherever he happened to go. He was one of the elite. That meant, of course, that his ass was kissed on a regular basis. He and his brothers were cynical, and that was okay, too. It was all just a part of the world they’d created for themselves.
The three siblings had learned from their mother at a young age to trust no one, not even those they should be able to trust above all others, and that depressing lesson had actually helped them. If they didn’t wear their heart on their sleeves, didn’t allow anyone even remotely close to the recesses of their hearts, they ran no risk of ever being traumatized again. That was the world they’d created. It was a good world.
Their greatest strength — their fraternal bond was paramount with them — was also a weakness. If an enemy wanted to get to one of them, he or she could do it through the other siblings. They would kill for each other, and they’d go to the ends of the earth, though they never spoke about that. They even tried not to think about it.
“Let me give you the tour of our facilities and tell you a little more about us, things that you won’t find on the website,” McKenzie said as she began leading him from the room. “We are particularly selective. Our women are, first and foremost, polished and elegant. No one will know you are with an escort. They are trained to be anything you need. We have a list of questions for you to answer, after which we will set you up with potential candidates, women who won’t question what you want from them. Not only that,” she said, pausing to look at him, “but they will also enjoy every minute of it.”
“Then why the public display of your ladies sitting on clients’ laps?” he asked with a mocking smile.
“Most of our clients are repeats. They like knowing they can come in here and be seduced. They like mocking society, flouting its rules — what others think of as wrong. We’ve never had any gossip or so-called scandal leaked from our premises and we never will, because no one comes through these doors who doesn’t guarantee discretion. Furthermore, our women aren’t for sale until they are ready.”
“And how do you deem them ready?” he asked.
“Through a lot of training. Many of the women who start here don’t last. They never see a client. They are put through many tests, and if they fail any of them, we fire them immediately.”
“And where do you find these women?” he asked as a woman made eye contact with him, and he turned away. Like the others, she did nothing for him.
“We donate a lot to the local shelters. Many women there have had hard times in their lives, and this is a great improvement for them. It gives them confidence and the ability to live a lifestyle they never before could have imagined. We don’t advertise. I handpick all of our women. Not one of them passes without my approval.”
“You call it improvement? They’re selling themselves,” Blake told her.
“We all fall on hard times, Mr. Knight. That doesn’t define who we are. How we choose to pick up the pieces of our lives defines us. Remember that we all sell ourselves in one way or another.”
Blake knew there was a story behind her words, and he found himself curious to discover what it was. But only for a moment. He shook his head, and the feeling passed. He wasn’t remotely interested in McKenzie Beaumont. Yes, she was young, and yes, she was beautiful and composed, but nothing about her stirred his blood. Blake doubted anyone in this place would have that effect on him.
He was a hardened man. Or was he? He felt himself almost uncomfortable in this woman’s presence. She had no qualms about her source of income — she seemed quite proud of it, in fact. Did she know what Blake had planned for one of her girls? Did she know it pleased him to make a woman weak, to break her very spirit?
Yes, he was sure that she did know, and that she even found some sort of sick pleasure in that knowledge. What should he think about that? He had reasons for doing what he did — reasons that he, at least, found valid. He knew it wasn’t what the world deemed right, but he survived each new day by doing what he had to. His mother had done this to him, as had his pathetic excuse for a father.
The woman who’d given birth to him had been cheating on his father, her husband, and that’s what had led to their death. Blake’s father had been a weak man, and it was something that Blake was determined never to be. He wasn’t the sort of man a woman brought home to her parents. And he felt no regret about that.
Blake was paying little attention to the tour of the agency’s surprisingly extensive facilities. McKenzie had taken him to the spa room, where he could see a few women getting beauty treatments, their bare bodies laid out on tables, their eyes connecting with his as he walked past, no shame in their expressions.
He nearly greeted the looks they sent him with an open sneer. None of them offered him any challenge. He could walk from this place with any woman there, and she’d be more than happy to be on his arm, no matter what ensued. But would that be so bad? Maybe this was what he needed. He would suffer no feelings of guilt when he broke yet another woman, when he took his anger, frustration, and sadness out on her.
Not that he allowed himself to feel guilt — not ever. How he’d chosen to survive was no one’s business.
When they stepped into a dim hallway and then out into a courtyard, Blake felt another flash of curiosity, but he kept it to himself. He was sure McKenzie was showing him so much because she was so eager to enroll him as her newest client.
Too bloody bad for her.
“Here are the sleeping quarters for our escorts. They do not leave these facilities without an approved client at their side. Once they sign on with us, we ensure that they stay ‘pure,’ in a manner of speaking, and protected from pregnancy, and that they have one priority in their lives — the men they are assigned to. They live only to serve our clients. I don’t normally let clients into this room, but I am making an exception for you, Mr. Knight.”
He wasn’t surprised that he was being given the royal treatment. Anything less and he would have walked out by now. However, he was taken aback by the rules of this place, and that did surprise him. Not much caught him off guard these days, but this place was certainly beyond his imagination. Considering that he’d been to some pretty exclusive clubs, ones that catered to all sorts of men and their needs, he’d thought he’d seen it all.
They ste
pped through another doorway and he found there a room full of small alcoves, with only thin curtains hiding the entrances. Some of them were closed, some open, revealing women sleeping inside. He wondered whether the agency’s escorts had different sleeping schedules, to keep an abundance of women ready for action both day and night — any time a man might wander inside in search of a companion.
In the large, dimly lit room, with shadows flickering on the walls, Blake’s eyes were drawn to the different colors of bedding in the alcoves. Was that some sort of clue to who the women were? Red bedding for a seductress, blue for someone softer, more cerebral?
As he turned the corner, a woman sat up in her pastel-blue bedding, her hair mussed from its time on the pillow. She didn’t see him as his gaze zeroed in on her, but Blake couldn’t take his eyes from the dark tresses that traveled halfway down her back, or from the low-cut silk of her pajama tank top, which showed him just a hint of her tempting cleavage.
She threw off her cashmere blankets, and his next view was of her tanned thighs, toned and tantalizing, and just the right shape for his hands to wander over. She was the first woman in the building who’d inspired even the smallest trace of lust inside him. Hell. Small? What he was feeling as he looked at her was anything but small. He hoped no one noticed.
He tuned out McKenzie Beaumont as he waited for this new woman to look up, waited to see what would happen when their eyes met. If he felt nothing, he was finished with her and with this agency. But if he felt what he thought he’d feel, he wouldn’t be leaving Relinquish Control alone.
Her eyes lifted and the room disappeared. Blake found himself taking an involuntary step backward at the power of the connection. Never in his life had he looked at a woman with such intensity. Never before had he been filled with such a flood of desire for any woman before she’d said even a single word. He would do just about anything, give anything, to possess this stranger. That thought should have stopped him cold, but he didn’t hesitate to ask his next question.
