by Alice Ward
I huffed. Money. Money was the ultimate draw, as always.
The book advertised that one woman was good at fellatio, another had remarkable hands, some were into whips and chains, others dominated or could be the recipient. As I scanned the pages covered with women I’d never seen before, a sense of loss crept in, until I reached the last entry in the book. My heart lifted a little at her beautiful masked face in glossy print.
The Butterfly, it read.
My eyes zeroed in on her description, and part of me cringed to know that I was about to see what was listed as her sexual specialties. Yet, I was curious. Part of what drew me to her so fiercely was that she didn’t seem human. She was more like a goddess, something I already knew was fake and wouldn’t take me by surprise.
When I spoke to her outside of the theater, I wasn’t sure if her cane was a part of her performance or something she really needed, but either way, her delicacy was intoxicating. She was powerful enough to walk away from me without much conversation, so I knew she had great command over her will, but she was also unabashedly imperfect.
I read over the blurb twice and saw no mention of sexual expertise, and further, no starting offer. Was it possible Duk was right, this incredible goddess-woman was not for sale? That as the book advertised, she was a prelude to intense sexual satisfaction?
I signaled for service while the next act, two female contortionists dressed in what I could only call strings, finished their performance. Everyone had a price.
The hostess who answered my summons wore the highest fashion, probably just recently created by some hot, young designer. She was as stunning as the rest of the women at Jewel but gave the place a touch of class, presenting herself more in the line of service and business than sexual allure. With the hostesses, security guards, and management being so impeccably dressed, I could almost delude myself into thinking I wasn’t in a brothel.
“May I assist you, Mr. Wellington?” she asked, sounding eager to meet my every need.
I pointed casually to the The Butterfly’s picture. “I don’t see her starting price listed.”
“This is because she is purely to delight your senses as a prelude to tonight’s other entertainments. She is not on offer.” The hostess was kind, her voice smooth and delightful, the sort that made you feel like everything was right in the world.
At her words, a desperation gripped me. I pretended to peruse the menu again to catch my breath. How could I covet this woman to the point that my insides constricted knowing she was out of reach? It was laughable. I felt like a love-starved teenager.
And probably for no reason.
Beneath the mask, I was sure she was like any other woman. A gold digger looking for a rich husband, or even a sugar daddy to keep her in the comfort she felt she deserved.
But she didn’t strike me as like any of the others. Something told me she wasn’t fake.
Fuck it. I wanted her, real or not.
“I’m not interested in her for entertainment, I just want to talk to her for an hour or so.” My eyes locked with the woman’s, giving her my best comply-with-my-instruction look. My palms dampened with sweat as my heart ticked faster in my chest. I studied the hostess’ face, intently willing her to give a positive reaction.
Duk made a disgusted face. “Just talk? That’s stupid.” He playfully knocked my shoulder with the open palm of his hand. “Just offer a lot of money, you can have anything you want.”
I ignored him. Kept my gaze on the hostess, never breaking eye contact with her.
“Let me see what I can arrange for you, Mr. Wellington,” the hostess graciously offered. “Would you like to define your terms? You may use your cell phone if you’d like. Just text to JEWEL. We have a text service for women not included in this evening’s program.”
I marveled at how civilized she made selling sex sound as I pulled my cell out of my pocket. “Thank you, I’ll send the text now.”
She bowed to me. “I’ll return with the manager’s answer. It may take a moment as she’ll be securing the offerings in the catalog first.” She flashed a wide, deliberate smile, fabricated to create a sense of ease and courtesy. Everyone in this establishment was well trained.
Duk leaned into me while I was sending the text. “Can I have her after?”
My blood boiled as I typed, For the Butterfly, just want to talk for an hour, clothed. $50,000. Hitting send, I felt a rush of excitement, fear, and possessiveness as the swooshing sound let me know the message sent.
“Show me who is of interest to you tonight, Mr. Soo.” I opened the book in front of him, making my best effort to shift his attention away from the Butterfly. “The Parade of Delights is about to begin.”
“Oh, I like the redhead one. She likes motorcycles. And then there’s this Brazilian girl.” Duk poked the page with his finger as he went over the attributions of each woman who had captured his interest, as if he was reading an investment portfolio. “Look at the tits on her.”
I shook my head and smiled.
“What about this one?” He pointed to a blonde woman in a bikini. “You think her nose is too big?” He scrutinized the picture with an earnest concern.
“Well, you know what they say about big noses.”
“No, what do they say?” Duk eagerly awaited my explanation of the nose’s mythic properties.
“Nothing, it’s a dumb joke. Pick the one that makes your pecker hard, Soo. That’s what I’d do.” I signaled the waitress to refill Duk’s glass of soju, a colorless traditional Korean drink made from rice that packed a punch.
He laughed. “That’s the problem, Roman, it’s up for everyone. How am I gonna choose?”
I snorted as the emcee for the evening entered the stage. When he walked up to the microphone dressed in an elegant tuxedo, I realized there were very few male workers at Jewel. I knew they had a section of the business that catered to men who wanted men or both men and women for pleasure, but it must have been another, more discreet operation, because tonight was all about the women.
“Gentlemen, I am honored to introduce you to some of the most talented, educated, and delightful women God has had the grace to create. Each is a rare Jewel who will tantalize and delight every sense. I promise, when you depart tonight, you’ll leave with memories that will rival any other… at least until you come back.” Music began in the background that slowly built in tension as the emcee stepped up his dramatic introduction. “Enjoy the delights before you and choose well. Every Jewel is precious, you will be delighted at any choice. It is with great pleasure that I present to you, the Jewels of the evening in a Parade of Delights.”
Stage lights flared to life as the music roared into a crescendo. The energy in the room escalated as the first woman walked across the long catwalk. She was wearing ribboned organza that flowed in strips, revealing hints of her naked skin beneath. Arms were raising around the room and hostesses took men’s offers with an elegance and discretion that was impressive. The entire process was refined and civilized, but each time a hostess returned to the table with a sweet expression of regret, I knew the money was multiplying. Millions were being played.
Duk raised his hand for the second girl, the one with the big nose, as he winked at me.
I leaned closer to him. “Good choice.”
Our hostess came to our table and bowed her head to him. “Thank you, Mr. Soo.” She took his offer card, and then bowed to me as well. “I’ve yet to hear anything about your interest, Mr. Wellington. Would you like to place an order, in case I’m not able to secure your request?”
I wanted to shout at her that no one ever turned me down, but refrained. God, I must’ve been in need of a good screw if I was lusting after a butterfly entertainer like this. “No, thank you.”
“Very well.” She bowed a last time and carried Duk’s offer card to the manager.
I watched her hand it over, scanning the manager’s face — a young but sharp and sexy platinum blonde — for any reaction. I couldn’t leave
here tonight without knowing more about the mysterious butterfly.
CHAPTER FIVE
Adara
The stage hands unhooked me from the flying apparatus as I struggled to make my legs hold me up. I was lightheaded, my blood pounding through my veins. I felt like I could fly to the top of the roof without ropes to lift me.
Though I dreaded this particular stage and show, my reaction was always this way after performing. It had been since I started performing in dinky bars when I wasn’t even old enough to drink.
Performing transformed me, and for the time I was on stage, I was in another, better place. I could pretend that I was still the star who sold out shows and was known around the world.
Reality quickly crashed in the minute my feet touched the stage, the pain knifing up my leg to remind me I wasn’t whole. And the world had forgotten about me.
“Amazing show tonight,” Janis whispered, who at twenty-one and no more than ninety-five pounds, looked like a tiny doll as she stood in line waiting her turn to be presented on stage.
I gave her my warmest smile. “Thanks.”
Of all the women at Jewel, Janis was my favorite. She exuded innocence and kindness.
The other women, while very beautiful, were deep into the business. Jewel was their entire life and in most cases, the people here were their only family. No one ever mentioned their distaste for the work. To them, it was their only world. We never spoke of wanting other lives or jobs. No one even considered the thought. If someone got too old to get offers, found a boyfriend who disapproved or threatened a lawsuit against the company or became pregnant, they just disappeared.
Janis was different.
“Good luck,” I said, instantly regretting it. “Sorry, I wasn’t supposed to say that. I keep forgetting.”
Janis giggled. “It’s fine to say whatever you want to me, but ‘have a good night’ is more standard for everyone else.”
She was right. At Jewel, “have a good night” translated to hope-you-end-up-with-someone-nice-and-make-a-lot-of-money.” She glanced to the stage and wrung her hands together. She was the next to go out on the runway.
“Have a good night then.”
She winked at me, took a deep breath, and walked out on stage, her hips swaying a slow, erotic beat.
I quickly turned away. I didn’t want to see her go out there, nor did I want to see the looks on the men’s faces. It was too much for me to bear.
Grateful the night was over, I was on my way to the rear exit when Brandy sprinted toward me, her heels clacking on the marble floor. When she caught up, she grabbed my upper arm and leaned on me a bit, her breath coming in fast little puffs.
I frowned and wished I was able to run too. I just wanted to get back to my room where the surroundings were semi normal, everything wasn’t neat and orchestrated, and the opulence didn’t cling like a silently oppressive spirit. But this was Brandy, and she’d talked me down from my panic, so I held back my first instinct to snap.
The expression she wore was the one she usually did when in the main building, practically a plastic façade, without true expression. “Hey, A… Mona. Wasn’t as bad as you thought, right? You were so wonderful, as usual.”
Brandy’s bubbly, “you were so wonderful” approach always meant that she had something else up her sleeve, but at least she’d remembered to call me Mona. Nights at Jewel were very stressful affairs. Anything could and often did go wrong, so checking in on my wellbeing would be very low on her priority list.
“What is it?” I was annoyed that I needed to be on guard with the only friend I had left. All I wanted to do was go back to my apartment, have a glass of chardonnay and watch mindless television.
Brandy’s eyes lit, and she flipped her hair over her shoulder. “You’re seriously the best thing that’s happened to Jewel in a long time.”
“Ha ha. We’ve already been over this, I’m no match for Gina’s golden vagina, remember?” I resumed walking, but I couldn’t walk faster than Brandy. The crippled leg and damn cane kept me moving at a lumbering pace. I pushed my body against the door as I opened it, desperate to be away from all the fakeness surrounding me. It was only drizzling, the storm having moved on, and I breathed deep, taking in the cold mountain air.
“Well, apparently you are.” Brandy beamed as I stepped out, holding on to the door for her. “A match, I mean.”
I stopped dead in my tracks. “What do you mean?”
“We have an offer I don’t think you’ll want to refuse.” She laid a steadying hand on my shoulder.
It took every ounce of restraint in my body not to yank away from her hand and let the door slap her in the face. “Whoever it is can go fuck himself with his offer. I’m not a wh—” I caught the word in my throat. I wasn’t a whore, but these other women were, and I had no right to insult them. God knew, I’d behaved whorishly in my glory days.
“Before you whip out your nunchucks, hear me out.” Her hand on my shoulder now gave a gentle squeeze, as if to hold me in place.
“You have one minute. I’m off the clock.” I gritted my teeth and didn’t dare look her in the eye.
“Why don’t we discuss this in your dressing room?” she suggested as she ushered me the short distance to the dressing house.
I could barely breathe by the time we reached my dressing room. I began stripping off the gauzy outfit as soon as we got inside. Brandy, however, had been moving slow and methodically. She wasn’t in a hurry. My internal alarms were blaring.
“These are all so showy.” As she spoke, she rifled through my costumes, her voice deliberately lofty. She looked at each piece hanging on the dressing rack with a discerning scrutiny.
“They’re designed for me. I fly around the room with massive wings in gold lamé, so showy works. What’s going on?”
She slowly faced me, and my stomach twisted with nausea. “What would you say if we got an offer for a clothed conversation, nothing more.” Her eyes met mine with an expression of confidence and satisfaction. “Do you think you can do that for me? You probably wouldn’t have been able to hold off offers forever, and this way, you’ll be making management happy.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “You know I have a contract, Brandy. I don’t have to accept offers.”
She was right though. I probably couldn’t wiggle my way out of an offer that didn’t include any sex or nudity at all. And if I did, everyone would probably hate me.
When Brandy offered me the job at Jewel, I was down to my last few bucks and had no idea what to do. After spending nearly two years in a dark and debilitating depression, I needed to crawl my way out of the hole any way I could. I needed this gig. The pay was decent, and it came with a place to live as well as a contract that stated sex, sexual play, nudity, and anything at all outside of six rehearsed and scheduled performances a week would be at my discretion.
I just stared at Brandy, not wanting to commit to something that might lead where I didn’t want to go. If I accepted this offer, from whatever lonely bastard wanted to sit for an hour and talk to me, what kind of slippery slope would I be careening down?
“He’s offered fifty thousand dollars for an innocent conversation, Adara. That’s unheard of. Your take would be seventy-five hundred, paid out tonight. That’s a lot better than pay for a week’s worth of performances. I mean, this is a no brainer.” Brandy plopped herself down on the small velvet chair angled in the corner of the tiny room. “Only problem I see is getting you something decent to wear. It’s got to be up to Jewel’s standards.”
My eyes fell to her cleavage. “You mean it’s gotta show my tits.” Jewels never wore much, even if their clothes were classy.
Brandy looked at me with an expression that conveyed both hurt and annoyance. “Don’t worry, I’ll find you something. All you have to do is say yes.”
Her head bobbed as she looked me up and down appraisingly, like she was a diva checking out another. This was a strange sisterhood, where we weighed the value of our bodi
es against the needs of our survival.
I looked at the woman I’d spent most of my childhood with and realized what a snake she’d become. She was a great businesswoman, no doubt, but she was an even greater pimp.
“I live by my own rules, Brandy. I won’t be coerced.” I bit my lip so I wouldn’t say more.
When I was on the road, selling out stadiums, hitting the charts with number one singles and living the life of an overnight pop sensation, I was known to have an attitude. I could afford one. I was always loyal to my friends. Never threw them under the bus. Including Brandy. I hooked the girl up with whatever she wanted. Sadly, she was always too in the moment to care about the future. Now, the future was staring us in the face, looking ugly and scary.
She lifted a brow. “So, what would it take?”
“Just talk, no touching. I’ll only allow ten questions, five of mine and five of his.” I sat and peeled the body suit down my torso. “And I wear my own clothes. I’m not a whore, and I won’t dress like one.”
Tension spiked in her as her back flattened and her eyes narrowed. “We don’t call our sisters whores, Adara. You know that.”
“Mona,” I snapped.
“Yes, ma’am, Ms. Mona Arc.” Her voice was as hard as the line of her lips pressed together as she struggled to keep her composure. “And your offer is ridiculous. Why not let the poor man talk to you and see your fucking tits, instead of playing Twenty Questions cut in half? Would that be so hard?”
I growled under my breath. “I’m not showing anyone my tits. And I damn well don’t have to take any offer if I don’t want to. So, I’ll allow ten questions and nothing more. A Jewel would give him a better ending, but I won’t be a Jewel. Final offer.”
“Fine,” she conceded on an exhale, her voice trembling almost imperceptibly. “I just have one more thing.”
I sighed. Good, she was nervous. Now we were having fun. “I love you more than anyone in the world, but like any sister, you get on my nerves more than you don’t. What is it?”
