The Arrangement

by Ward, H. M.

  She nods at me. Miss Black crosses her legs at the knee and leans back in her chair. “How old are you? Twenty-two?” I nod. “Family?”

  “Deceased.” I still feel the knot in my throat when I say it. I wonder if that’ll ever go away.

  “What are you attending school for?”

  “I want to be a marriage and family counselor when I graduate. I have to finish undergrad and grad school first. I have a very generous scholarship that pays for my classes, fees, and books, but I still have to pay for rent and food.”

  “You need a job with better pay and fewer hours?” she asks, and I nod. “Are you involved with anyone?”

  My eyebrows start to creep up my face. “No, but—”

  “Any piercings or tattoos?” Miss Black’s eyes sweep over me, like she’s looking for them through my dress.

  “No,” I blurt out, confused. What does it matter if a hotel clerk has tattoos?

  “And I’m guessing that’s the best dress and shoes you own.” I nod, not wanting to answer. It’s all I could afford. I thought I looked nice, but I was already at work and then there was the thing with my car. “If you work for us, we expect you to have a certain kind of attire. There are stores where you have to shop. It’s not optional. Is that a problem?”

  “Only if I can’t afford to shop there.”

  She smiles, “Oh, you’ll be able to afford it. Listen. You seem like the type of girl we are looking for—no attachments, driven, hardworking, and ethical.” I try not to smile. I still don’t know what the job is, but my heart starts to race like I want it very badly. Miss Black takes a card from her pocket and slips it across the table to me. “That is starting salary. It’s paid weekly, in cash.”

  A warning bell is chiming softly in my head before I glance at the card. Cash, why is it cash? Some companies hire extra staff off the books. It shouldn’t spook me, but it does when I lift the card. My jaw drops open. “This is more money than I make in a month.” Holy shit! Mel wasn’t exaggerating.

  “I know, and that’s just to start. It goes up from there. Those who perform well are paid well.”

  I stare at the card and the massive number. I’ve got to be missing something. I look up and ask, “What’s my job?”

  Miss Black grins and places her palms together. She points her index fingers at me. “Ah, that’s where things get tricky. You see, we are in one of the oldest professions in the world—the matchmaking business. Beautiful young women come to us and we take care of them and make sure they’re safe. We’re selective about our clientele and attempt to match preferences to keep things as pleasant as possible. Now, if—”

  My mouth is hanging open. I blink as she speaks, thinking that I must be misunderstanding, but the longer she talks, the clearer things become. I find my voice and squeak out, “You want to be my pimp?” Okay, today is totally the worst day of my life. I stare at her wide-eyed. “Does Mel know—”

  Mel speaks from behind me. “Of course I know. I work here, Avery. I’m a high dollar call girl, if you need the bluntness, and from the look on your face, I think you do.” I’m ready to bounce out of my chair and run, but Mel puts a hand on my shoulder and sits next to me. “I know what you’re feeling, but hear me out. Miss Black is a madam. It’s not the same as whoring yourself out. It’s more like matchmaking.”

  “For money,” I retort.

  “What’s so bad about that? I mean, you get to work a few hours a week, get good pay, and have someone looking out for you. The guys have a background check, are guaranteed drug and disease free. That’s better than dating the old fashioned way.”

  “This isn’t dating, Mel!” I stand up, but Mel grabs my wrist and pulls me back into my seat. I’m so annoyed with her. I want to leave, but it’s because I’m upset. I can’t believe she took me here. I can’t believe she does this!

  Mel sighs and gives me her annoyed look that’s just short of an eye roll. She thinks I’m blowing things out of proportion. “There are different levels of service, Avery. You could just be some guy’s arm-candy for the night. No sex. It’s your call.”

  I glance at Miss Black. Her expression is neutral. “Is that true?”

  Miss Black nods. “We have different clients with different needs. When you begin working for us, you tell us what you’re comfortable with and how far you’re willing to go. Limits are set ahead of time so there is no confusion. You have a security device with you at all times and check in here every weekend.”

  “I—” my mouth is hanging open. Getting paid to be someone’s date doesn’t sound bad. “I don’t know.”

  Mel explains, “The dates don’t pay as much, Avery. But it’s a good way to see how good they match you up. I mean, if it’s the kind of guy you’d take to bed anyway…” Mel winks at me and then shrugs, like it’s no big deal.

  I break eye contact with Mel and stare at the table. I’m gripping my hands in my lap so tightly that they’re turning white.

  Miss Black pushes a sheet of paper in front of me and a pen. “This is a list of things that might occur on a date with a client. You can check off the things you are willing to take part in.”

  I stare at the sheet. There are normal things—hugs, kisses, pecks, French kissing—and then the list gets more specific: stroking, petting, oral sex, vaginal sex, anal sex, and it keeps going, getting weirder and weirder. There are two columns filled with anything and everything. Fisting? What the hell is that?

  I shake my head and push the page back to her. “No.” I can’t do this. I feel like I’m standing on the slippery slope and about to fall down, ass first.

  Miss Black eyes me for a moment, like she knows me. “How experienced are you, Avery?”

  I freeze, and my shoulders straighten. I turn to her slowly. My answer must be written across my face, because Miss Black smiles at me with that smile people have when they discover something serendipitous.

  Miss Black hands me another card. This one is black with white letters. My reflex is to take it. “That also has its own set of rules and prices.” I squirm under her gaze. I wonder how she can tell. I hold the card in my hand without looking at it, heart pounding.

  Mel isn’t following, “What has its own rules?”

  “Your friend is a virgin,” Miss Black says, pleased.

  CHAPTER 4

  My face flames red, but I can’t move. I flip the little black card over and look at it, expecting the number to be smaller, but it isn’t. It’s bigger, with a lot of zeros. I don’t understand. Glancing up at Miss Black, I ask, “Why is it more?” I thought it’d be less. Who’d want to pay to fuck a virgin? I don’t know what I’m doing, like at all.

  Miss Black tilts her head to the side. “Supply and demand. There are very few women your age with everything still intact. Some men like being the first. They want a more drawn out experience, so it costs more. Combine that with a lack of virgins and you are a rare commodity.”

  Oh boy. I’m a rare commodity. I don’t blink. I just stare at her. It’s like I’ve fallen into a parallel universe or something.

  Mel blurts out, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Mel looks at me like I’ve been living a double life for the past few years. It irks me, since she really is living a double life. I had no idea she was doing this. I don’t want to talk about it now, either. “It’s not the kind of thing that comes up, okay.”

  Mel stumbles over her words and finally spits out, “How?”

  Miss Black speaks for me, “She never found the right guy, is my guess. Avery’s been too busy with life, trying to survive. A guy complicates things, adds more danger, and more uncertainty.”

  I feel numb. That was exactly why. If I got pregnant, robbed, infected, or anything else, then I’d be totally screwed. I stare at the floor. “There’s no room for it. If I make a mistake…”

  Miss Black nods. “I understand. Don’t make a decision now. Think about it and let me know. My number is on the back of the card. I need to check Melony’s stats and you girls ca
n be on your way.”

  “Have you done it?” I blurt out as I look up at her. I don’t know why I asked, but I did. Miss Black turns back to me and nods slowly. “Do you regret it?”

  “There are some things I wish I’d done differently, but it was my own fault. The job was great, Avery. My regret is that I held onto the job too long and the result was letting the right guy slip away.”

  Mel whispers to me, “We can’t date when we’re working here.”

  Miss Black shakes her head, and looks at Mel. “Come on. Let’s get your stats.”

  Mel walks to a scale and stops in front of it. She turns once showing her dress off to Miss Black. “It ties at the waist.” She pulls the string and slips out of the dress. Mel is wearing a navy bra and panty set with matching garters and thigh highs. She slips out of her shoes and steps on the scale. Miss Black measures her waist, breasts, and hips, and writes the numbers down.

  Mel turns to me, “They regulate everything.”

  “Would I have to do this for the dating service?” They both nod.

  “It helps us keep you in shape and pair you up with the right man. We want our clients to be happy. Most of them want a specific kind of woman.” Miss Black answers me as she fills in information on Mel’s chart.

  “Specific numbers?” I ask, shocked.

  “Specific ratio. It gives a good indication of curves. The clients will never see your measurements, of course. That’s just for us.” Miss Black eyes me, while Mel pulls her dress back on. “Why don’t you come in with Mel tomorrow. I’ll bring the—“

  I shake my head. I’ve made up my mind. The moment of insanity has passed. There’s no way I can do this. “No, that’s okay. This is too much for me.”

  Miss Black leans in. “One guy, for one month and you’d be set for the year. It’s just one guy, Avery. Think about it.”

  I don’t need to think about it. This isn’t for me. “No, but thanks anyway.” I say. I flick a glance at Mel and want to strangle her. What was she thinking, bringing me here? And what the hell is she thinking, doing this? I look down and bite my tongue.

  Miss Black is talking to Mel about her next date and walks toward a bookshelf on the wall. She lifts a photo album and walks back to the table. Mel sits next to me. I grab my phone and pretend to tweet something. Mel’s spine straightens. She knows I’m going to chew her out when we’re alone. Damn right, I am.

  Miss Black says to Mel, “There are a few new clients who haven’t been entered into the database yet. You know how we are with these things. Everything is private, but it takes time. Anyway,” she says, putting the thick book on the table, “I’ll show you his paper file. This’ll be destroyed later.”

  Mel scoots closer, so she can see. When Miss Black flips open the thick binder something flutters to the floor. It’s a picture and some notes that are written too poorly for me to read. I lean over and pick them up. When my fingers touch the picture, I freeze. Those eyes, that face. A chill runs down my spine. It’s the guy from earlier tonight, the one on the motorcycle. I pause there, afraid to touch it. A rush of feelings swirl through me and pool in my stomach. I can’t swallow.

  “Avery, what’s wrong?” Mel asks, noticing how I’ve gone rigid.

  “Nothing.” I sweep up the papers and the picture and hand them back to Miss Black. When I touch the photograph, I think of how it felt to wrap my arms around his waist. Hell, I already wrapped my thighs around his hips. My face flames red at the thought and the two women chuckle, like they know what I’m thinking. I push the papers across the table toward Miss Black.

  The corners of her mouth twitch with amusement. She senses the chink in my armor. “This is a new client. I met him this morning and he was interested in finding someone to take under his wing, someone with little experience, someone with soft dark hair and even darker eyes—someone like you.”

  I smile too widely and shake my head. Butterflies are ambushing my stomach and trying to fly up my throat. I move too much and practically shake my brains out of my head. “I’m not interested.” I try to hide my nerves, but the fact that this guy made me melt before I saw the picture undercuts me. I cross my arms over my chest and lean back in the chair, locking my jaw.

  “Very well,” Miss Black says, no longer looking at the guy’s picture. She turns to Mel and pulls out a few pages. There are a lot of pictures of the guy and his preferences are noted.

  I tune out what they say. I don’t realize it, but I’m staring at the upside down picture of motorcycle man. He seemed so normal, so nice. What’s he doing at a place like this? If he asked me out, I would have said—stop lying to yourself, you would have said no. I wouldn’t have given him a chance, and why? Because I don’t have time for stuff like this. I won’t start something that I can’t finish.

  My eyes fixate on his face. Startling blue eyes look back. A dusting of stubble lines his jaw, dark like the sexy hair covering his head in thick waves. It sweeps across his forehead, like it’s just a little too long. I want to touch it, and push the hair back. Those eyes are too amazing to conceal. My heart is pounding and I’m lost in thought, rethinking the encounter with him earlier tonight, wondering why he’d come here, when Mel pokes me in the shoulder.

  “Hello? Earth to Avery?” I snap my gaze from the picture and look at her. “Time to go.” Mel stands and grabs her purse.

  Miss Black extends her hand to me, “It was a pleasure to meet you.”

  I nod, and shake. “It’s been..” I stare at her, and can’t think of anything to describe how it’s been.

  Miss Black breaks the awkward pause and says, “I did the same thing. So did, Melony, if it makes you feel better. Neither of us thought we’d do it. We both said no at first.” Miss Black smiles weakly at me. The handshake stops and before I have a chance to turn away, she says, “We both changed our minds.”

  I smile at her, completely and total certain. “I won’t be changing my mind about this.”

  I turn away and follow Mel down to her car. I had no clue how wrong I was.

  CHAPTER 5

  Mel stalks to her room. There’s a frosty silence between us. It’s nearly 2:00am by the time we get back to the dorm. We pass my door first. I move to unlock it, but when I jab my key in and turn the knob, the door smacks into the couch. Again.

  “Damn it, Amber! Open the fucking door!” I’m about to lose my mind. It’s the middle of the night. There’s no one to report her to, and I am not sleeping in the hallway.

  Mel stops a few paces away and turns back when she hears me yell. Her voice is quiet. “Come stay with us. You can beat the crap out of Amber in the morning.” She doesn’t wait for me to cave and follow her back to her room. I watch Mel’s long curvy form walk down the hall and wonder if I know her at all. She’s a goddamn prostitute. How did I miss that? Am I that naïve? I suck in a breath of air and let it out in a rush.

  Running my hand through my hair, I push it back from my eyes and sulk down the hallway after her. She opens the door in silence. I follow her into the room and close the door quietly, assuming her roommate is already asleep, but the room is empty. We both live in the west tower at the far end of campus. It’s the cheapest dorm and the one farthest from everything.

  Mel picks up a note next to the lamp after she turns it on. The little room is a photocopy of mine, minus my hideous roommate, Amber the skank. The walls are eggshell white with an industrial tile floor. Mel decorated it more poshly than I did. I could never afford the pretty curtains and thick throw rug that covers the floor. All the throw blankets, lights, and pictures make it feel like a home. My room doesn’t feel like that. It feels like the prison cell of a sociopath. Amber covered her half with sparkly crap and my half remains empty, barren, like my life.

  Mel reads the note and puts it down. “She’s out for the night.” There’s an awkward pause that makes my mouth fill with cotton. I feel like I should apologize, but I don’t want to. She took me to fill out an application to be a hooker.

  Mel presse
s her lips together and looks at me. “I didn’t mean to…” she closes her eyes and shakes her head. Pressing a finger to her temple, she says, “I didn’t mean to upset you and I sure hope that we can still be friends.” She works her jaw after she carefully says each word and stares at me.

  “I’m pissed, but I’m not stupid. Why wouldn’t we be friends anymore?” I feel a tug in my gut, a warning that I might actually lose her. It makes me step further into the room. I can’t lose her. She’s my best friend and as close to family as I’ll get.

  “You’ve got that look on your face. The one that says condemnation, damnation, and all those other nations where sleeping with a guy is frowned on and followed up with a swift banishment with brimstone.” Her hands move as she speaks, flying through the air. She’s really worried.

  I sigh and rub the heel of my hand against my eyes. “Mel, oh my God, that’s not it. You walked me into a job interview to be a hooker. I thought I was applying to be a hotel clerk. They’re kind of different, in case you didn’t notice. You frickin’ blindsided me, that’s all.” That’s all, like that’s nothing major. My best friend is a hooker. My shoulders slump forward. I don’t want to fight anymore. I’m exhausted and I have to get up early to study, since I have to work tomorrow night. I sit down hard on a fluffy hot pink chair and pull a blanket over my lap.

  Mel sits across from me on her bed. She pulls off her shoes and stockings, as she speaks. “You wouldn’t have come if I told you what it was, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed this or not—but you’re screwed. If you get one C, just one, you’re totally fucked. No more scholarship, no more college, poof! It’s gone. You’re walking the line already in Psych. You can’t fail Monday’s test. It kills your wiggle room, and you’ll have to pull straight A’s for the rest of the semester. You know you can’t do that working as much as you do. This is an upper level class, Avery. You’re almost done. It would suck to blow the whole thing now.”