by Alice Ward
Clean, my head still spun with the clingy scent of oranges and jasmine. I needed to get out of here and get some fresh air.
CHAPTER NINE
Adara
All I wanted to do was go back to my apartment. I felt off-center and unbalanced.
I never wanted to do anything like that, ever again.
But I was lying to myself. I would absolutely do that again, but only with him.
Then why did I refuse to see him again?
I breathed a heavy sigh, tired of needing to be on the offensive every waking moment. I walked out of the pleasure room, unsure of where to go. When I usually finished my performance for the evening, I went back to the dressing room, put on my clothes and the velvet cape, and exited the back door to the women’s apartments up the hill.
The Jewels were mandated to stay in the main building during their shifts, until early morning. Since I wasn’t a Jewel exactly, I wasn’t held to the same rules, which meant I spent a lot of time alone in my apartment. Usually, spending so much time on my own got boring, but at the moment, all I wanted to do was run to the safety of my sanctuary.
Now, I worried about leaving without being excused, even though I knew I wouldn’t be asked to entertain anyone else. My muscles seized as a question occurred to me… would I?
What if this was only the beginning? What if Mr. Wellington was only meant to warm me up to Jack?
Then I would refuse. I’d save my share of the money. I needed it, because one day I would eventually drum up enough guts to get out of this place and live my life again.
I wanted to be in my own space, but I had to force myself to keep a slow and measured pace. With the seductive environment of the pleasure rooms, Jewel insisted that anyone moving through the halls when clients were present from Monday through Saturday — everyone had Sundays off — keep a sensual rhythm. Patrons walked halls, ensuring all rules were obeyed.
Because I hadn’t spent much time in this part of the theater, I was a little disoriented in the dark, heavily scented corridor. No one had told me what to do after I met with Mr. Wellington. Usually, when the Jewels were with regular patrons, they had to stay and consult with their hostess before being excused. If anyone left early, their payment would be heavily levied.
Anne had been our hostess. I would have to remember to call her Alma here. I liked her more than the rest of them.
Most of the hostesses were Jewels in training, and despite all the reasons I could conjure for why being a Jewel was the worst job in the world, most made a lot of money. The hostesses had to be the very best at what they did, upsell significantly, and be noticed by management in order to earn the right to be a Jewel. Hosting was hard work but better than being on the streets.
Many hostesses were self-absorbed back stabbers ready to dethrone anyone who got in their way. Anne wasn’t like that. She was a nice college kid who only worked at Jewel a few nights a week. Hostesses had a choice to live on campus or not. If they lived here, they had a better chance of leveling up. If they didn’t want to live on campus, host work was almost like any other job. They didn’t have to take offers from clients if they didn’t want to.
I wandered the dimly lit halls outside the pleasure rooms, trying to find the hostess lounge. It was an incredibly luxurious place, but knowing what went on behind those doors had me tiptoeing for fear a sex-crazed maniac with a hard-on would pop out and attack me.
I covered my mouth with my hand as a giddy snort popped out of me unexpectedly. I picked up my pace, as if I could distance myself from the joyful wave Mr. Make-love-to-you had lifted me up on.
After walking into several of the wrong employee lounges — lavish, richly appointed rooms — I finally found Anne in the hostess lounge. The area was small with a few chairs and TVs mounted on every wall that monitored the public areas.
“Hey there,” I said as I popped my head inside the door.
Anne jumped out of her chair and stood barefooted, toppling the outrageously tall heals sitting on the floor beside her.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” I quietly walked into the room.
“No, you’re okay.” She smiled and sank back into her seat. “I’m just getting a little sleepy. I thought for a second I might have dozed off.” She yawned and stretched her limbs. Cringed as she angled her feet back into her spiked pumps.
“You don’t have to get up, I just wanted to know if I could go home? I was done talking with Mr. Wellington about a half hour ago.”
The other girls looked at me strangely, as it was well known I didn’t see clients. Each hostess had a cell phone they clung to should they get a call for service.
I took a deep breath, feeling my anxiety mount. I wanted to get out of this place and get some air so I could breathe properly again.
“Let me check with Brandy,” she said, pulling her phone out of her jacket. “Did you like being with Mr. Wellington?”
I shrugged. I couldn’t let them know that his face, his beautiful body, and his powerful erection were haunting my every thought. I had been chastising myself for lusting after the man while I bumbled through the halls, lost in a lust-driven haze.
“He’s nice enough, I guess,” I answered, hoping I sounded disinterested.
Her eyes lit up. “I think he’s lovely. Very gentlemanly.”
Why did that make anger close up my throat?
Anne was gorgeous, and the sudden rush of jealousy that spiked through my heart was completely unexpected.
“Maybe, but it’s probably all for show. Men like him are like that.” I knew I was being a bitch, but Anne was naive. I was most likely right. Mr. Wellington was a fantasy man in the fantasy land of a sex club, where no truly decent man would ever spend his evenings.
“Do you think so?”
“I mean, he frequents a sex club.” I watched her expression plummet. It shouldn’t have, but it felt good to watch her infatuation tame a little.
She leaned forward and pressed her lips to my ear. “He gave me three thousand dollars.”
I lowered my voice too. “Yeah, he was probably trying to guilt you into a quick romp. Billionaires have been known to do that.” I had to shut up and let the poor girl have her dream, but she had three grand. My dose of reality could only be a favor.
“You’re right,” she said as her shoulders fell.
The iPhone in her hand buzzed and she put it on speaker as she answered. “Hi, Brandy. Adara is finished with Mr. Wellington, can she be excused?”
“Not yet,” was her answer.
“What?” Fear punched through my stomach. “Give me that,” I said as I grabbed the phone from Anne and held it up in front of me. “What do you mean I can’t be excused? What the fuck, Brandy?” My eye twitched as I tried to contain my temper.
“Take me off speaker,” she ordered.
I did and put the phone to my ear. “I’m ready to go.”
“I’m sure you are,” Brandy said in her calm, honey-smooth voice. “Just one more thing before you do.”
Ice raced up my spine. Everything was wrong, her tone of voice, the fact that I wasn’t being rushed out of here. Something was off.
“Mr. Marshall—”
The name was light gas to my rising fury. “What about Mr. Marshall? I told you I would never accept his offer.”
She remained calm, though there was a time when she would have gone head-to-head with me. As teens, we’d fist fought once.
She cleared her throat. “He’s offered two million dollars.”
Why was she so invested in this? Why did she care if this place made bank tonight? Was making money more important to her than her oldest friend?
“I’m leaving,” I said before pressing the end button and handing it back to Anne, not making eye contact with the other hostesses, most sitting with their mouths ajar.
“See y’all tomorrow.” I waved as I opened the door and walked out of the room, not taking a breath until I was halfway down the hall.
I should have
expected Brandy to pressure me. What was she supposed to tell the horny bastard? Sorry. No, Adara is off limits, even though you own the place?
My lip curled up as I scrunched my nose, bearing my teeth in the process. Of course that’s what she should’ve told him. Obviously, he wasn’t used to being denied.
As I headed out, Brandy intercepted me.
I was ready for her. “I’m leaving right now, I just need to go to my apartment and pack. You and Jack owe me eight grand.” I pushed my way past her, trying not to show any emotion. Where would I go if I left Jewel?
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
I sighed and stopped with my hand on the door. I needed to get the hell out of here. “Right. You’re only sorry I said no.”
“I know how you’re feeling, Adara. I understand,” she said as she trailed behind me, coming to a halt at the exit.
“Do you?” I turned to her, fuming, my face hot. “Maybe you do, but here is the bottom-line, since it seems that you need it spelled out for you. The minute I fuck someone for money, I’m a whore!” It came out louder than I meant it to.
Brandy’s face flashed shock and horror. “Keep your voice down, for god’s sake. And don’t use that word ever again.”
I realized I should calm down a little — not for Brandy’s sake, as she was being a complete tool — but for the rest of the girls. I shouldn’t let my anger effect the Jewels. That would be wrong. Some of them couldn’t help that they’d been driven to this.
I took a deep breath and spoke in a more civilized manner. “Once a whore… always a whore. You can never go back. I’m not a whore, Brandy, and I never will be.” I stared directly into her eyes as we stood in the hall, and my apartment sanctuary seemed a world away.
She narrowed her eyes, her face growing tight with barely concealed rage. “I told you not to use that word.”
I narrowed my eyes right back. I was so keyed up, I wanted to rage. “But that’s the word that fits. You don’t say it because then this whole glass house would shatter. Jewels… that’s a laugh. You don’t consider these women precious. The only thing dear to you is the client’s money. I should have seen it before now, but I thought we were still friends. Like sisters.”
“I’m sorry you see it that way. I was hoping you’d understand, it’s such a small sacrifice for such a large payoff.” Her eyes were glazed over, bloodshot, and her avoidance of my reference to us being sisters cut deep.
“Not to me.”
“I’ll explain things to him, maybe he’ll lose interest,” she said in a flat monotone. “Go home and get some sleep. But you’ll probably never get a chance to make six hundred thousand dollars for a night’s work again, just remember that.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, pissed that my hands were trembling. “There was a time I could write a song and end up with the whole two fucking million. Don’t play with my head, Brandy. You won’t win that game.”
She cocked her head and her eyes ran over my mask and dropped to my leg. “You might write another song, but you’ll never bring in that kind of money again.”
I didn’t hear if she said more as I turned and walked to the nearby double doors, blinded by tears. I hoped the wide hallway would somehow lead me to where I needed to be.
CHAPTER TEN
Roman
Jesus, what was that man doing? Proposing marriage?
It was almost three-thirty in the morning and Duk still hadn’t “completed his evening.” I couldn’t bear to sit in my private lounge any longer, so I went outside for air.
While the rest of the world slept, things at Jewel were still in full swing. I could’ve numbed my brain with mindless TV and chose to be woken by my hostess, but I was still too keyed up to sit still.
When I inquired about my client, our hostess confirmed that he was still with his date. This was one of the times when I wished I smoked, so at least I would have something to do while I was outside doing nothing.
I stood in the cold air for a while, watching the stars that seemed so much more plentiful up on the mountain, and listened to the faint feral sounds of fucking in the distance. Someone must have had an outdoors fantasy.
Boredom and disgust eventually forced me back toward the club.
As I turned for the door, it was flung open, crashing against the wall. And there she was, the Butterfly, exploding from the opening. Even without the mask and slight limp, I would recognize her anywhere. My heart leaped in my chest, and my mouth went dry as pure joy vibrated like a gong in my head.
As she walked toward me, her head down, Jack Marshall, one of the richest internet entrepreneurs in the world and my most vigorous competitor, followed and grabbed her arm. He was clearly drunk. And clearly angry.
“Why dunna you ‘cept my offer?” His words slurred into one another. “Isn’t it generous enough for you, you lil’ bitch? I’m tired of waiting”
“Please excuse me, Mr. Marshall.” Even under those circumstances, she used the same calm and measured tone she’d used with me. “And remove your hand.”
I started to intervene, but a large security guard dressed in fine menswear and trench coat stepped out of the dark and onto the sidewalk. Surely this man would do his job and make this creep leave her alone.
When he didn’t make a move to address the situation, I held back. Watching. Waiting. I knew the Butterfly had a great deal of pride and would want to handle this on her own. But I’d be ready if she couldn’t.
“Not until you’ve fulfilled your obligation to me!” he shouted, belligerent in his anger.
Her body tensed as her lips pursed into a thin line.
“I have no obligation to you, sir.” She made an effort to pull her arm out of his grip, but his hand clenched tighter, his hulking body no match for her frail form.
“I own this club, and so I own you. You’re very lucky I even made an offer for you. I can take what I want, when I want it.”
Why was the guard just standing there?
Her eyes narrowed, and her breathing became labored, her voice flat. “That would be considered rape, Mr. Marshall. You only own part of this establishment, sir, and I’m absolutely positive I wasn’t included with your purchase.”
He wasn’t deterred. “I’m tired of waiting for you, and no other woman in this club is worthy of my attention.”
She lifted her chin. “Please remove your arm so that I may return to my apartment.”
Instead, he moved forward, towering at least a head taller and more than twice her size. Before I could blink, his fat hands groped her breasts and he angled her toward the door. Trying to twist away from the bastard, she tripped and fell against the door as it slammed shut, and he pressed his massive body against hers. Monstrous hands then ripped open her cape and pawed at her shirt.
“I’ll fucking teach you not to refuse me,” he spat as there was a tearing sound, buttons flying as he ripped the gauzy black blouse she’d worn when she was with me.
The tiny fissures in Jewels facade widened to earthquake proportions. Billed as an elegant men’s club where women were willing participants well-trained in the art of pleasure, it suddenly seemed more likely to me that they were being held captive, financially manipulated, and mentally coerced.
I was already on the move. Someone had to stop the bastard from molesting her. Fuck. The man needed to be taken down a notch anyway.
“Good evening, Jack,” I said loud enough to startle him, my hand slamming down on his shoulder.
I’d startled her as well. They both looked at me, shock freezing them momentarily.
“Who the fuck are you?” Jack asked indignantly, his eyes crossing as he tried to focus on my face.
I shook my head in disbelief before it dawned on me I would need to put on a show of my own. The hulking guard who still did nothing but gape at the scene would be one of many, and if I wanted to help her I’d need to play a careful game.
My heart was erratic and beat so crazy it was a wonder all of them couldn’t hear it
. Just being near her had my stomach in knots and her vulnerability to Jack had me grasping for calm. I was a tiny bit embarrassed that she was moments ago the star of the sexual fantasy that had me coming so hard I nearly passed out. But a protectiveness fueled me, making me willing to risk whatever was necessary to defend my Butterfly.
My Butterfly?
I took a quick step toward them, my grip on his shoulder clamping down harder. “Oh, come on, Jack, pretending you don’t know me won’t make this any better for you.”
“Roman Wellington? The crave.com guy?” A glint of recognition lit his eyes. “Can’t get it on your own, so you have to pay for it, eh?” The asshole laughed, but loosened his grip on her arm.
“I’m waiting on a client, I never purchase. Can’t say the same for you though.” Strange he’d taken that approach. I studied him closer. He really was drunk as hell.
“I own this place.” He puffed up his immense chest and said with a straight face, “I can sample what I want for quality.”
The lies men with money tell and actually believe. It still amazed me.
“That’s strange. I was coming in from a bit of fresh air and I couldn’t help notice you threatening to rape this woman. That’s illegal, no matter who you think you are.” I straightened my spine and clenched my teeth, though what I wanted to do was throw a right hook into his beady eyes.
My glare pierced through his drunken fog, and I watched pearls of sweat bead at his temple.
I nodded toward the guard. “I’m sure this gentleman here can confirm what I saw with a phone call to the police.”
“This gentleman here, you fucking piece of shit, works for me. If I want to throw her up against the wall and fuck her brains out, I can do it anytime, anywhere.”
I shoved, and the bastard lost his balance, letting go of Butterfly to catch himself on the wall of the building. She was trembling, so I nodded to her to make her escape. She carefully backed away from him as I stepped firmly in his way.
I watched him grapple with himself, his expression and inner turmoil obvious. Should he hold her there physically? For what purpose? Or should he let her go? While he seemed mired in indecision, she ducked past me and I pulled my phone out of my pocket.
