Gigolo Girl

by Layce Gardner

  “What’s going on out there?” Desiree asked.

  “Is there a party or something?” Mildred asked.

  “It’s Candy Sweet’s going away party,” Heavenly Bliss muttered.

  “Oh no,” Desiree said, plopping down into a chair. She suddenly looked like a deflated balloon.

  “Where’s she going?” Mildred asked.

  “Quitting the business. She fell in love,” Heavenly Bliss said.

  “Has anybody told Honey Belle yet?” Desiree asked.

  “I told her. As expected, she’s throwing a big ol’ hissy fit. She’ll come by when she has herself under control,” Heavenly Bliss replied.

  “Well, isn’t that just wonderful! Who is she?” Mildred inquired. She was excited to discover that love did stand a chance in this business. Her heart did a little jumping jack inside her chest.

  “It’s some dyke named Roni that she met at a coffee bar. Apparently, they fell in love over a skinny vanilla latte,” Heavenly Bliss said, sighing heavily.

  “I can’t believe she’s leaving,” Desiree said. “Candy Sweet’s been here longer than me. What’s going to happen to all her clients? My God, Honey Belle must be frantic.”

  “C’mon, let’s go get a cupcake and wish her much happiness,” Mildred said.

  “Not yet,” Desiree said. “I don’t feel like pasting on a smile just yet.”

  “But aren’t you happy for her?” Mildred asked. “She’s your oldest friend and she’s found true love!”

  “Go on,” Heavenly Bliss said, batting away a feral balloon with the words “Lucky You” on the front of it. “At least the cupcakes are good,” she said, taking an enormous bite of the one remaining.

  Desiree shook her head and followed Mildred back out of the office just in time to see a Congo line led by Fessa snaking its way around the gym floor. Candy Sweet spied Desiree and Mildred and jumped out of the line. She danced her way over to them.

  Candy Sweet was dressed in a purple mini skirt with a matching purple wig. She grabbed Mildred, wrapping her big arms around her and squeezing her in a giant bear hug. Mildred’s face was shoved between Candy Sweet’s enormous breasts. She felt like the center of an Oreo cookie.

  Next, Candy Sweet hugged Desiree. “Congratulations,” Desiree managed to say.

  “Can you believe it? I’m so happy I could just spit. I can’t wait for you to meet Roni. She’s so wonderful. Of course, I have to quit my job. Roni wants me all to herself.”

  “What’re you going to do with yourself?” Desiree asked. “You don’t seem like the bon bon-eating, soap opera-watching type to me.”

  “Oh, I have big plans. I’m going back to school to be an elementary school teacher. It’s always been my dream,” Candy Sweet said.

  Mildred smiled at her. “That’s so wonderful.”

  Candy Sweet’s face clouded over. “I hope Honey Belle doesn’t kill me. I feel real bad about leaving her in the lurch.”

  “She’ll get over it in due time,” Desiree said. She tried to wrap her mind around the image of an elementary school teacher with a variety of slutty clothes and a penchant for colored wigs.

  “Go get yourself a cupcake. We’re living large today,” Candy Sweet said. She jumped back in the Congo line.

  Desiree and Mildred moseyed over to the refreshment table. It was piled high with cupcakes and an assortment of soda pop.

  “So it’s really bad to get out of the business?” Mildred whispered.

  “Well, we are Honey Belle’s bread and butter so to speak,” Desiree said.

  Velvet Thrust snuck up behind Desiree and Mildred. She stood in between them and slung her muscular arms over both their shoulders. “Another one bites the dust,” she said.

  “You can say that again,” Desiree said glumly.

  “I bet Mildred inherits most of Candy Sweet’s clients,” Velvet Thrust added.

  “Yeah,” Desiree said.

  “Why so glum?” Velvet Thrust said, pouring herself a Mountain Dew from a two-liter bottle.

  “I don’t know. I’ll miss her. We’ve been in business together for awhile,” Desiree said. She picked up two cupcakes and handed one to Mildred.

  “And she opens the window to the other world,” Velvet Thrust said. “Doesn’t it make you wonder if you could ever be that happy in love?”

  “Yeah, that too,” Desiree said.

  “But we’ve got our fresh-faced one to take her place,” Velvet Thrust said, putting an arm around Mildred. Velvet Thrust was obviously feeling festive.

  Fessa ran over with a plateful of cupcakes. “Isn’t it wonderful news?” she asked.

  “Uh huh,” Desiree said.

  “Have a cupcake, it’ll cheer you up,” Velvet Thrust said, handing Desiree one with a big red icing heart.

  Desiree stared at the cupcake long and hard before setting it back on the plate.

  “What’s wrong?” Fessa asked.

  “Oh, our little Desiree is feeling blue,” Velvet Thrust said.

  “No, I’m not,” Desiree said, forcing a smile for their benefit. She didn’t want to be a spoil sport on one of the happiest days of Candy Sweet’s life, but she was feeling depressed. It seemed as if everybody but her was falling in love. Always the bridesmaid, she thought.

  Velvet Thrust stared at her. It was like she could sniff out the lie. “Uh huh,” she said. “Methinks you’re jealous.”

  “Jealous?” Desire spit. “I’m not jealous of my friend. I’m happy. I’m happy, I tell you!” She stamped her foot and shouted, “I’ve never been any good goddamned happier! I’m so motherfucking happy I can’t stand it!” She whirled around and stormed off toward the exit.

  Mildred watched Desiree stalk out the door and slam it behind her. “I don’t think she’s really happy, do you?”

  Selfie

  “I don’t know,” Mildred said. She stood in front of the full-length mirror in Desiree’s walk in closet, turning every which way and scrutinizing her body.

  “You look great. I distinctly remember you telling me you wanted to wear a red sequined dress that showed lots of cleavage and your panties when you sat down. Now you have it,” Desiree said, her arms akimbo, “So what’s wrong?”

  “I know, I know. But I feel so…exposed,” Mildred said. She bent over at the waist, touching her breasts to her knees. “Does my butt crack show when I do this?”

  “Yes,” Desiree answered. “I would recommend not doing that at a formal event.”

  “But what if I drop something?”

  “Ask me to get it for you. I’m wearing pants.”

  Frustrated, Mildred straightened and threw her arms in the air. “I can’t wear this!”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m not fooling anybody. I look like a hick from a small town that somebody spit-polished. I’m going to get there and do something stupid. Everybody’s going to see right through this dress and laugh at me,” Mildred said. Her words came quick and uneven. She was on the verge of tears.

  Desiree took Mildred by both shoulders and stared into her eyes. She solemnly said, “Listen, Mildred. I’m only going to say this once, so listen close.”

  Mildred nodded. “Okie dokie.”

  Desiree said with a very somber face, “Mildred…You is kind. You is smart. You is important. And… you is hot.”

  Mildred laughed. It was just what she needed to calm down and see how ridiculous she was being. She dabbed at her eyes, careful not to smear her carefully applied make-up. “Thanks, Desiree. You always know how to make me feel better.”

  “Glad to be of service.” Desiree adjusted Mildred’s dress strap, adding, “I really did mean it, you know. You are all of those things. And this is the perfect dress for you. It highlights your natural beauty.”

  “You look pretty darn good, yourself,” Mildred said. She had a sudden urge to kiss Desiree. She looked at Desiree’s luscious lips and almost went for it. She might have leaned in for a kiss except Desiree took a step backwards, breaking the moment.


  Desiree looked in the mirror and flicked an imaginary piece of lint off her shoulder. She was wearing a white bustier with a woman’s black tux and tails. It was tailored to her exact measurements. Even her black shoes shined with perfection.

  “Who’d have thought us little backwoods girls would clean up so nice,” Desiree said.

  “Oh, the girls back home would be green with envy if they could see me now. Greta would be so proud of me.”

  “Why don’t you do a selfie?” Desiree asked.

  “You want me to touch myself? Right now?” Mildred asked.

  Desiree laughed. “No, a selfie is when take a picture of yourself with your phone and send it to someone. You can send it to Greta.”

  “Oh! Great idea! But you have to be in the picture with me,” Mildred said.

  Desiree pulled her iPhone out of her inside jacket pocket and held it out at arm’s length. She put her other arm around Mildred’s waist and smiled. “Ready, Freddie?”

  “Ready, Teddy.”

  Desiree snapped the photo. They studied the picture. “Damn, we look good. What’s Greta’s number and I’ll send it.”

  Mildred gave it to her. Greta texted back almost immediately. “OMG u 2 look beautiful. Luv the dress. Desiree looks sassy in that tux. Lol, I meant sexy.”

  “See, Greta thinks you look great,” Desiree said. “And straight women are always much harsher than lesbians.”

  Mildred looked at Desiree. Her eyes watered. Her bottom lip trembled.

  “What?” Desiree said. “Did I do something wrong?”

  Mildred shook her head. “No. You do everything just right. Thank you for giving me this wonderful life. I’d still be chicken farming or waiting tables if it wasn’t for you.”

  “Naw, you would’ve found something better to do. You got yourself to the city and that was your first leap of faith. You’re a gal with gumption.”

  “I know, but my skills were pretty limited. I probably wouldn’t have found a job and then I’d have to go back to Terrence with my tail tucked between my legs and I’d never live down the shame of it. People in Terrence are like that. Do one stupid thing in your whole life and they never let you ever forget it. People still make fun of Joe Bob for wearing his pants backwards on the first day of Kindergarten.”

  “Sounds like Seward to me,” Desiree said.

  “Yeah, but at least that’s in Alaska. I consider that an exotic small town.”

  Desiree shrugged. “Come on, get your purse and we’ll blow this popsicle stand.”

  Desiree moved for the door, but Mildred caught her by the hand and stopped her. “Desiree, you ever miss home?”

  Desiree looked away. “Not really.” Her voice grew hard as she said, “I was thrown out when I was sixteen. The whole family was sitting around Thanksgiving dinner, my dad asked for the cranberry sauce and I blurted out “I’m a lesbian.” I was thrown out of the house before the pie was served. I don’t have a home to miss.”

  “But why do you hate fish so much?” Mildred asked, thinking about the fish painting above the fireplace. “Did you have fish for Thanksgiving or something?”

  “After I was kicked out of the house, I had to drop out of high school to support myself. I worked at the fish cannery until I had saved enough money to get out of there. I swear, my hands smelled like sushi for months afterwards.”

  “Look at us now,” Mildred said, smiling big and feeling happy. She gave Desiree a tight squeeze. “Let’s go paint the town red.”

  “We deserve it,” Desiree said.

  The Big Tent Ballyhoo

  The Big Tent Ballyhoo was the social extravaganza of the season. Everybody who was anybody wanted to be there to schmooze and power grab to become the hottest new couple of the year. A picture in the paper of oneself entering the Ballyhoo could give one enough political clout to run for mayor. The only catch was that you had to be a lesbian. It wasn’t unusual for women to pretend to be gay just to earn an invite to the Ballyhoo. Unfortunately for them, the approval committee had stringent strategies in place to determine real lesbians from faux lesbians.

  For instance, real lesbians have at least four of the following six attributes:

  1) Has no sense of humor

  2) Calls pets ‘four-legged fur kids’

  3) Has never been seen at Walmart or Hobby Lobby

  4) Reads Xena fan fiction

  5) Nurses strong masturbation fantasies about Hillary Clinton

  6) Owns at least two Indigo Girls CDs

  The Ballyhoo was held downtown at the Imperial Hotel Grand Ballroom. Security guards surrounded the red carpet, holding back the bisexuals and lesbian wannabees. Cameras flashed, spotlights carved figure eights in the night sky, and a Joan Rivers impersonator said snarky things about the way the attendees dressed.

  When Mildred got out of the limo, she was so overwhelmed by the commotion her feet froze to the spot. Desiree grabbed Mildred’s elbow and pulled her safely through the mob and down the red carpet. Mildred gasped, wide-eyed and open-mouthed when she entered the ballroom. It was every bit as golden and glitzy and glamorous as the Hollywood Oscars.

  Desiree spotted Honey Belle and Heavenly Bliss stationed in the far corner of the room. “Let’s go pay homage to the Queen Bees,” Desiree said.

  Honey Belle and Heavenly Bliss had come to the Ballyhoo as each other’s dates. They were dressed to the nines—both wearing short dresses and high heels. Honey Belle’s dress was silver and had little mirrors attached that caught the light just like a disco ball. The only problem was that when you stood in front of her your reflection looked like a cubist painting.

  Heavenly Bliss was decked out in a purple dress with a neckline that plunged all the way to her naval and a giant collar that stuck up behind her head. Her black high heels were so high that she tottered around like she was wearing stilts.

  Both women had on more make-up than a pair of circus clowns.

  “They look like the city folk in the Hunger Games,” Mildred whispered. She looped her arm through Desiree’s as they made their way across the convention center room.

  Desiree looked at Mildred. She couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off her. Damn, she was a gorgeous girl, Desiree thought. She tried to keep her feelings stuffed in her back pocket, but sometimes when she least expected it, they popped out and stood right in front of her like a fierce Gremlin demanding her attention. She knew in her heart of hearts she was falling fast and hard for Mildred but she couldn’t figure out what to do about it.

  “Well, don’t you all look nice,” Honey Belle said.

  “As do you, m’lady,” Mildred said with a downward tilt of her head. Something about being dressed up all fancy made her feel like she was back in Shakespeare times meeting the Queen.

  Honey Belle beamed. No matter how old you were a compliment went miles toward good will. Honey Belle reached out and squeezed Mildred’s hand. “You’re looking sweet tonight. I see nobody had to tell you how to advertise your goods.”

  Honey Belle obviously knew where her bread was buttered. Mildred was definitely the new butter. She’d captured the LBD market like nobody’s business. Desiree didn’t even rub it in that she was the one who’d convinced Honey Belle that Mildred was a good catch.

  Honey Belle smiled genuinely at Desiree and said, “I might as well tell you, Desiree. I’m giving you a promotion. You are now our recruitment director.”

  Heavenly Bliss smiled big. “You done good girl. I’ll give you that.”

  Honey Belle winked at Desiree, saying, “We will discuss your raise later.”

  Boy, this was going to be a magical night. Usually, Desiree was on the shit list for some infraction or another and here she was being the teacher’s pet.

  “I’m flabbergasted,” Desiree said. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “No need to say anything. Go get yourself some drinks and put your boogie shoes on,” Heavenly Bliss said. “Oh, and stay away from the girls handing out feminist propaganda and those ones in
the Birkenstocks, cotton shirts, and drawstring pants. And those leatherettes sure look like they’re spoiling for a fight tonight.”

  “Why?” Mildred asked. “What did we do?”

  “They have certain opinions about what we do for a living so it’s best just to ignore them,” Desiree said.

  “But I thought we were supplying a public service,” Mildred said as Desiree lead her across the parquet dance floor and toward the bar. “As long as we’re having sex with their women, they don’t have to.”

  “Let’s just say they don’t exactly see it that way,” Desiree said.

  “But what about the Big Tent inclusiveness thingy?” Mildred said. “Doesn’t inclusive include us?”

  “Total bullshit. You saw the packet and application process.”

  “I didn’t really read it,” Mildred admitted. “It was more boring than the Magna Carta we had to read in the sixth grade. I just signed it.”

  Desiree laughed. “Well, as long as we’re being honest, I didn’t read it all either. As your sponsor, I just filled out the questionnaire part about you.”

  They’d reached the bar. “What’ll you have?” said a large deep-voiced woman dressed in a black and white suit that made her look like a very large penguin.

  “What’s your poison tonight?” Desiree asked Mildred.

  “Let’s have champagne. I like how it tickles my nose.”

  “Two glasses of champagne,” Desiree ordered.

  “Coming right up,” the Penguin said. She began to uncork a bottle of Dom Perignon.

  “Did you tell the approval committee that I was a gigolo girl?” Mildred whispered.

  “Hell no! I told them you were a business woman in the organic farming industry.”

  “As in chicken farmer?” Mildred asked.

  “No, I couldn’t bring up the chickens. The vegans and animal rights people would have a shit fit even if they were free range chickens.”

  Desiree took the two flute glasses from the Penguin and handed one to Mildred.

  “Oh, so what kind of farmer am I? Just in case anyone asks,” Mildred said. She sipped her champagne.

  “I told them you grew alfalfa sprouts and raised alpacas for wool to make sweaters for poor children in third world under-developed countries.”