by Cynthia Dane
“Seriously.” Monica held up a paper labelled HOLLY JONESMITH in front of Judith’s face. “Every time I add this up, I come out 300 dollars beneath her self-reported figures. Where is that extra 300 coming from?”
Judith scanned Holly’s atrocious cursive handwriting, looking for the extra figures that apparently were not adding up. “There.” She pointed, and Monica jerked the paper back to see for herself. “Services rendered two months ago. With a client named Granith. Or Grant. Can’t tell.”
Monica growled before slamming the paper on her desk. Someone is hormonal today. Ever since she announced she was pregnant two months ago, Monica had released the hounds within her. Before, she had been a model of propriety, even in private. Now, having been married and impregnated, she had gained a barrel full of confidence that she didn’t know what to do with. Judith was used to it now. In fact, she found it amusing. Finally, she’s on my level.
“What the fuck is NC?”
“North Carolina?”
Monica was less than impressed with that answer.
“You know what it means.”
“I was hoping it did not stand for ‘no condom.’”
Here we go. “She’s still new and dumb. She probably forgot that’s not allowed.” Hypocrite, hypocrite, I am such a hypocrite. “I’ll talk to her.”
“See to it that you do. I will not risk any of you spreading God knows what to every man of means in the region.”
“Uh huh.”
Sighing, Monica tossed Holly’s folder onto the other side of her desk and rubbed her forehead. “Here I was thinking of remodeling one of the guest rooms and getting a new girl. Not if we can’t keep the new one we have from screwing us over.”
“Really?” That was news. “Are we really that busy now?”
“You’ve seen it on the front lines. Even on slower nights most of you have at least one client.”
“That’s true. Still, didn’t think you would be ready to take care of six girls.”
“It would still be a ways away, but I feel like we’re leaving more money on the table by not having a bigger on-site staff. These days I have to hire more temporary girls for the parties we’re throwing.”
Judith had to give her that. “Anyway, I’ll talk to Holly. Give her the ol’ condom talk.” She pulled a paper from the stack in her lap. “Speaking of Trojan horses, we’re low on lambskins. Should I put in an order?”
“Go ahead.”
They went back to working in silence. Monica had expelled her frustration and was able to concentrate on figures again, her fingers flying over a calculator while little curses burst from her lips whenever she screwed up. Judith ignored her while she looked over Chelsea’s figures. Thankfully, that woman had much nicer handwriting. And her figures added up perfectly every time Judith checked them. Bless her. She and Judith had learned at the same time when not to report certain things. I don’t want to know them. Grace once let slip that she did condomless anal for a client, and Judith couldn’t look her in the eye for the rest of the night.
“By the way,” Monica said, removing her glasses from her face. “I’ve heard back from a couple regulars who might be interested in bidding on you.”
Pencil lead snapped beneath Judith’s firm grip. “Go on.”
“The first is Howard Dennis. Remember him?”
“Vaguely.” After a while, all the men blurred together if there was nothing special about them. There had been nothing special about Howard Dennis. “Who is the other one?”
Monica did her best to contain a snort in her nostrils. “Nicholas Mills.”
“Fuck that.” Judith had done her fair share of elderly men, but Nicholas Mills was old enough to be her grandfather. “Can he even afford me?”
“The Mills are wealthy.”
“I get a choice in it, of course.”
Monica pursed her lips. “Of course.” That was one stipulation the women around there had when it came to clients, let alone patronage: they could refuse anyone, no questions asked. But Monica was a businesswoman first and foremost. She only saw the numbers. When a girl said, “No, I don’t think so,” to a man with a lot of money to spend on her, Monica wanted a damn good reason. Unfortunately, by now she knew Judith well enough to know the head-girl would take on about any man who walked through the door, especially if he was loaded in more ways than one. This is what I get for openly being a sinner. On the opposite end of the spectrum was Yvette, who rarely had sex aside from her patron. No one had been able to figure out what her deal was, and God knew Judith didn’t understand it. Didn’t she get into this gig because she liked having sex with various people? Sheesh.
“Speaking of this whole debacle…” Judith warmly thought of the man who had visited her Saturday night. Yesterday morning, when Miguel left her room, she couldn’t wait to slip him a card announcing her upcoming bid war. Please, for the love of Aphrodite, buy my body you stud. Now that was a man worthy of calling himself Judith’s patron. “I think I may have a lead with that guy Miguel Bolivar.”
Monica perked up. “Do tell. I was pleased when he was taken enough to request you the second time around. I take it he found you… satisfactory to his needs?”
Judith scoffed. “If you mean I was able to take that big dick of his, yeah.”
The madam was not the type of woman to blush at that frank talk. “I figured you were the best for that job. The man looked like he had an elephant trunk packed in there, so even I wasn’t absolutely sure…”
“Honestly, any bigger and I may have had a problem. Nothing I couldn’t handle, though.” Judith grinned. “Always easier the second time around!”
“Good to hear.” Monica wrote something down on a scrap piece of paper. “How certain are you of him?”
“Not 100% sure, but sure enough. We get along well.”
“You don’t think he would be a problem regarding your job?”
“No way. I already told him about that. Besides, this guy seems like the type who goes to a lot of pleasure houses. He knows how it works. I’m not his girlfriend.”
“Good. I’ll make sure he’s sent a notice, as well as any local clients you’ve had so far this year.”
“Don’t send an announcement to Kevin Jefferson. I didn’t like that guy at all. Not enough to let him be my patron, anyway.” Judith had a limit to the amount of verbal abuse she could take on the job. The one night she had with millionaire Kevin Jefferson was enough to make her need a shower. Who knew what he would think he was entitled to if he were her patron?
“Understood. Although, you know…” Monica tapped her pen against her lips. “It wouldn’t be bad if that doctor became your patron. Rather handy, really, considering the odd things he’s asking to use you for.”
Judith didn’t grimace, but she also wasn’t enamored with the idea of Seth becoming her patron. We had fun, but he doesn’t seem the type to understand I’m not his girlfriend. Artists. “I like him. He’s nice. Don’t think he would go for it, though. He’s conscious of how much money he spends, unlike Mr. Bolivar.”
“Indeed. Besides, he’s probably not asking for enough sexual favors for your liking.”
You might be surprised. “Guess you haven’t seen my last receipt, then. Let’s say I milked him of some money and then some.”
Monica snatched a paper from another stack behind her. After perusing it for a bit, she said, “Only intercourse? Nothing else?”
“Trust me, if you were there, you’d understand. He caught me by surprise.” Judith’s grin assuaged all worries that the event was malicious. “He ain’t a bad lover, either.”
“Did that surprise you more than him wanting to fuck you?”
“Kinda.”
“Just intercourse, though? Nothing leading up to that?”
Judith cleared her throat.
“Please don’t tell me you’re handing out free fellatio again.”
“What do you mean again?”
Monica’s visage went from humorous to serious i
n less than three seconds. “I know you handed out head candy like it was, well, candy to every man who came your way when we opened.”
“Yes, and you chewed my ass out for it.”
“You bet your ass I did.”
“Who had the most clients out the gate, though? Hm? Me. So what if I gave the doctor a free blower? He came back for the main course, as I planned. I’ll charge him for all future blows, don’t worry.”
Monica’s look said she wasn’t sure about that. “How’s the modeling?”
“Fine. He loves me naked.”
“Excellent. I’m hoping to talk to him about his projects. Maybe grease a few of his wheels and see if he won’t display your portraits somewhere. Could be good advertisement. I’m assuming you wouldn’t mind your painted pussy plastered across the country’s galleries.”
“Hell no. You can already find my real pussy online.”
“Trust me. I’ve seen it.”
That didn’t disturb Judith. She had put those links in her résumé. Besides, she inspected me top to bottom when I reached the final stage of the interview. Stripped naked right here in this office so Monica could make sure everything was as Judith claimed it was. Fine thing if she was hiding herpes on her crotch… or worse. Track marks. Lots of shit went down in the Château, but drugs were absolutely out of the question. Judith did not like telling clients they couldn’t bring their coke to their parties, but it wasn’t like she wanted to be around that crap either. The last thing they needed were addicts working there too.
“Anyway, I am going to send Dr. Christens an announcement. He’ll probably decline, but on the off-chance he accepts, I’m going to assume you don’t mind.”
Judith shrugged. “Could have worse patrons.”
“You want Mr. Bolivar more.”
Her grin returned. “Wouldn’t you?”
Someone knocked at the door. “Madam Warren?” It was Matilda, Monica’s lady-in-waiting. “Mr. Warren is here.”
“I’ll decline to comment,” Monica said to Judith. Then, louder, “Send him in!”
Monica’s husband, a tall, strapping blond man named Henry waltzed in with his hands in his trouser pockets. He surveyed his wife’s office before going to her and kissing the top of her head. The brief look of happiness on Monica’s face was more than lovely. Gag, anyway. “Good to see you, Princess,” Henry said. “Are you finishing up here, or should I go ahead and bring my bag in?”
Monica pulled away from her husband. “Afraid we’re doing the quarterly audit. If you can wait another hour, I should be ready to go home.”
“Good.” Henry turned to Judith. “Do me a favor and tell my wife to come home more often. We all miss her.”
Judith gave him a pleasant, professional smile. “When she’s gone, I’m left in charge. Don’t know what to say about that.”
“Well then.”
“While we’re telling each other things,” Monica began, cleaning up her desk, “tell Ms. King that it’s bad business to hand out free blowjobs. You’re a businessman, Henry. You know what I’m talking about.”
To his credit, he didn’t blush. To be married to Monica meant taking these comments in stride. “I do believe they call that a loss leader, dearest. Hand out a sample product for free and then watch them come back for the whole package. Tactic as old as time. Seems fitting for the oldest profession.”
“Thank you,” Judith said. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell her! Mine are the best, so it’s only right I give out free samples. Trust me, nine times out of ten they come back for more of Judith King.”
“I’m sure.” Henry glanced at his busy wife and said, loudly, “Perhaps I should sample sometime myself.”
Monica dropped her papers and the pen still in her hand. “What!”
“She said she hands them out for free, and you know I can be a cheap bastard sometimes.”
“Henry!”
He turned back toward Judith. “She’s fun, isn’t she?”
“The funnest.”
“Anyway, I’ll be out on the balcony waiting for you. Such a lovely day. You should get some sunshine at some point. Both of you.” He kissed his wife’s red cheek once more, nodded to Judith, and saw himself out. “Have a good one.”
The sound of disbelief emanating from Monica’s throat almost made Judith laugh. “Some husbands…”
“At least he has fun with what you do.”
“Too much fun.”
With Monica cleaning up, Judith knew it was time to follow Henry’s cue and show herself out. “See you Wednesday?” That was when Monica usually returned to the Château. Sometimes Thursday. God knew what would happen when she got closer to giving birth and, well, gave birth. There had been no discussion of that game plan yet.
She happened to run into Holly in the hallway. “Don’t be stupid,” she said, startling the redhead. “If you’re gonna fuck a client bareback, you do not report it to Monica! Don’t even tell me about it.” As the girl gaped at her, Judith snorted in disdain. Dumbass.
When Judith continued down the main hallway, she realized she had two choices ahead of her. Somehow, the idea of having Seth as her patron slammed into her head. Perhaps it was walking into a sundrenched hallway that reminded her of posing for paintings. After all, the artist had been obsessed with the perfect lighting, not that Judith could blame him.
Seth as my patron, huh? Originally, Judith had thought him handsome, witty, but boring. Or at least boring in the ways that counted to Judith. Good conversation didn’t mean much if he wasn’t going to have sex with her. It wasn’t a money thing – he would be paying a monthly fee to be her patron, and he could do whatever he pleased – or nothing at all. That wasn’t fun for Judith. In this world, she could have the “perfect” man. A man who would make love to her every time he saw her. Maybe hard. Maybe slow. Always entertaining.
Maybe Seth could be that man. Then again, there were many to choose from. It was only a matter of who would have her as well.
Chapter 11
SETH
“Marvelous,” Seth’s agent said, gazing upon his one finished work and another two sketches he was already working on. “You’ve outdone yourself.”
Seth didn’t want to look proud, but he certainly felt it. I know it’s my best work yet. Look at her. He hadn’t mentioned who Judith was or what she did for a living. Only that he had been using a live model for a new series of paintings. If Joy the agent had come over the day Seth called her, then she would’ve found him beaming in so much pride that she would’ve been sick. Five days later, however, he was in better control of his emotions. Not that it stopped him from thinking about Judith, no matter how much Zack warned him not to. Who the fuck else do I think of in the shower, though? Or in bed by himself. Something about that woman had the power to make him touch himself over and over again.
“I’m glad you like them.” Seth offered Joy a cup of tea. She declined. “I’ve worked out a deal with her. I plan on creating a whole series of erotic paintings.”
Guffawing, Joy turned away from the finished painting and went back to staring at a rough sketch on another easel. Sunlight streamed through the studio windows, illuminating the golden paint of Judith’s hair. Seth found himself constantly staring at it, remembering the way her hair glowed in her bedroom. Then I fucked her. Oh well.
“Erotic paintings are a great sell, although it will be difficult to find galleries willing to take them. People are getting conservative again. Such things work in cycles.”
“You’ll find a place, right?”
Joy snapped a picture on her cell phone. “I’ll show them around. Don’t be surprised if I call to schedule some private viewings.”
That was what Seth wanted to hear. He didn’t need to make a living off his art, but he did appreciate the validation. Everyone knew he had the technical skill to create great paintings, but so far most were underwhelmed with his subjects. Since meeting Judith, however… Fuck me. I could paint her all day. Zack’s suggestion
that he do a series based on the women of Château was ludicrous. Seth couldn’t stand the thought of sitting down to paint any other woman. Unless she was with Judith, perhaps.
“I won’t lie to you, Seth,” Joy began, running her fingers through her straight, thick black hair. “This could be good for you. I’ve got contacts in Tokyo who might go for this. They love the erotic stuff there. Especially of blond white girls.”
“Not in Hong Kong though, huh?” Joy had many international connections, but Hong Kong was her home playground, and the main gate to the rest of Asia.
Joy waved her hand. “Hong Kong isn’t into this right now. It would be a tough sell.”
“Got it. The Japanese it is.”
“Of course, right here in America is best to start with. This is a European style, but those Euros have seen plenty of Anglo nipples these past few centuries. Get your name going here and in East Asia, and maybe you could break into Europe.”
That was almost too good to be true. Seth had never courted ideas of being a hit in Europe. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he pleaded. “I’ll be happy with a show near here first.”
“I’ll be going to New York for two weeks soon. Can you get me two more finished paintings by then?”
“I’m going to be meeting with the model tomorrow. I should be able to complete these sketches and then get to coloring them.”
“Good.” Joy studied the completed painting again. “What is her name?”
Seth hesitated, not that he expected Joy to recognize his model. “Judith.”
“Wow.” The agent turned away. “How biblical.”
Glad we’re on the same page. Seth had been doing research on the historical Judith as of late. He liked how powerful, how aggressive she was, and determined to depict the modern woman the same way. No beheaded men, though. “It’s an unconventional name for a woman as young as her, but it suits her.”
