by H. M. Ward
I wipe the tears from my face with the back of my hand.
Marty reaches into his pocket and hands me a clean, white hanky. It’s perfectly folded into quarters and creased like he ironed it. He holds it out to me.
I laugh, half choking on the phlegm in my throat. I take the hanky and dab my eyes before wiping my nose. “You made me cry. No one makes me cry.”
“Really?” he asks wryly. “Everything makes me cry. Why do you think I walk around with a hanky?” He grins at me.
I look down at the white cloth in my hands, damp with tears. The confession spills out of my mouth. “I was offered a position as a high dollar call girl. If I take it, it solves my money problems. I can finish school and move on with my life.”
“But…” he prompts, assuming nothing. Marty’s great like that. He doesn’t condemn me.
“But the obvious. But I’d be selling my body. But I’d be letting some stranger have sex with me. But, I’d be giving away my virginity to some freak…” my voice fades as I say the word, thinking of Sean.
Marty smiles softly and adds, “But you like someone else.”
I look up at him. “How’d you know?”
He shrugs, “Just a hunch. Something about the way your voice sounds, like there’s more there than you’re saying. So who is this guy?”
I look at my hands as I speak. “No one. I don’t even know. He helped me when my car got jacked. I’ve seen him a few times, and then I got the job offer. After talking to you the other day, I took it… I took the job because he was the client. Then, things got messed up, and now I can’t have him.” My voice hitches in my throat as I speak. Shaking my head, I ask, “What’s wrong with me? How can I like a guy who’s that twisted? He ordered a virgin call girl.”
“And you showed up,” Marty says, patting my knee. “Listen, life doesn’t always make sense. Maybe this whole thing’s fate, maybe you’re supposed to be with this guy in the end—I don’t know—but it seems to me that’s what’s holding you back.”
“What is?”
“That fucked up guy. You’re totally sure that there is no way for him to be a client again?”
My eyes flick to his. I shake my head. “No, the madam was really pissed.”
“Then, raise the stakes. Tell her that it’s him or nothing.”
“And what if she says no?” I’m screwed if she says no.
“Then, you’re no worse off than you are now. Why not try to get the money and the man? Go for the gold, girlie. You’re only young once.” He bumps his shoulder into mine and smiles at me.
“Got any more clichés that you’re dying to use?”
“Nah, I just know how much they irritate you. Go find your boss, call girl. And if you work things out, I’m taking you shopping.” Marty gets a giddy look in his eye. “I saw this perfect little dress at Black Label. Any guy would love to rip it right off of you.”
I laugh and lean into his shoulder. The whole in the center of my chest, that painful ache that was consuming me, withers and I feel like maybe I can do this. I have to convince Miss Black to get Sean back. I can do that.
I think.
CHAPTER 6
After promising Marty that we’d go shopping tonight, I head to my car. Pulling the seat forward, I toss my books in the back. When I go to push the seat forward, it won’t move. It’s not as cold today, but still—standing in a parking lot alone is asking for trouble. My track record for getting robbed is shamefully high. I yank the seat, but it’s stuck. I climb in the backseat and put all my weight into it and pull, trying to force it into an upright position. There’s a cracking sound and then seat comes free and falls back into place. I try to squeeze between the seat and the door so that it doesn’t get stuck again, but I don’t fit. So, I’m forced to climb through the bucket seats, head first, and I pretty much fall out the door. I stand, brush myself off, and jump into the car. I lean back before grabbing the seatbelt. The crappy old seat holds. I half expected it to snap off.
I start my magic car and head toward Miss Black’s. When I arrive, the place is bustling with people. I’ve never seen anyone here before. There are workers at desks. I hear a woman talking on a phone saying something about insurance for employees. Shocked, I stand there in the door way to the office with my mouth hanging open. It takes this many people to run a brothel? The phones ring nonstop. It’s like the call girl call center.
Miss Black spots me from across the room. She’s standing at an aged man’s desk, handing him a file. An irritated look flashes in her eyes and she quickly walks toward me in her tailored suit. She tucks the remaining files under her arm. “May I help you?”
Nodding, I look at her. “Yes, I believe so.”
“Very well, come with me.” Miss Black has perfect posture, even in those heels. She walks in front of me and I follow her back to her office, where she closes the door. “It is extremely unprofessional to arrive unannounced, Avery.”
“I’m sorry,” I say taking a chair. I sit on the edge of my seat and place my hands on her desk. Miss Black is leaning back in her seat, legs crossed. “I needed to discuss something with you.”
“I’ll allow it this time, however, in the future, if you want to speak with me, it has to wait until you check in on the weekend.”
“That’s just it. Since things got messed up the other night, I wouldn’t be checking in and I didn’t want to wait for you to call me. I decided that I’m not cut out for this.” My heart is pounding as I speak. I try so hard to keep my nerves off my face. My hands rest perfectly still on her desk. There is no tremor in my voice. “I’m withdrawing my application. Thank you.” I stand, like I’m going to walk away.
Her little speech about what a rare commodity I am is my only card to play. I’m totally bluffing. I need this job, but I want it on my terms. I step towards the door and reach for the knob. Miss Black doesn’t say anything until I’m ready to pull the door open.
“Wait,” she says. I stop and turn to look at her. “Please sit.” Miss Black straightens in her chair and leans forward, her eyes tracking me as I walk back toward her and sit down. “The other night was an anomaly. That is not the usual course of events. In all my time doing this, that is only the second time I’ve had to intervene. I apologize that it made you question your choice to work here. There are other clients who have been on our roster longer, that have a proven track record. I would—”
I cut her off, “I’m not interested. The thing is, I didn’t feel threatened the other night and while it might have broken your rules, he didn’t make me feel like a prostitute. I didn’t expect that to happen. I was the idiot who followed him outside. He wasn’t the one who broke the rule. I did.”
Miss Black looks at me with her dark eyes. The tips of her fingers press together one by one as she watches me from behind her desk. “You’re not telling me something. What is it?”
“I’ll consider staying, if I was given a second chance with that client. I won’t leave the hotel this time. I’ll do my job, and you’ll get your money.” My throat tightens as I speak. My heart is racing so fast. This scares the hell out of me. The whole thing, and here I am telling her what to do. For all I know, she has those beefcake ninjas locked in her closet and they’ll bust out and break my face for suggesting such a thing.
Miss Black stares at me. I don’t breathe. My tongue is between my teeth to keep me from spewing her with nervous chatter. Her index fingers press together and then she taps them three times, like she’s deciding something. “So, this is about money?”
No. “Yes.”
“And…” she prompts.
“And I didn’t think I could do this, but after the other night, I know I could follow through with him.”
“Even if I wanted to, I don’t think I could get him back. We exchanged some terse words after the event.” Miss Black taps her desk. She glances up at me.
I rush out what I wanted to say. “Just tell him. If he refuses, then I’ll consider someone else. Are we agreed?”
Miss Black isn’t stupid. She leans toward me and says, “Something else is going on here, of that I’m certain. However, I’m not one to blow a business deal over suspicion. I’ll ask him, under the condition that if he says no, that you’ll continue working for us—that you’ll trust my judgment when I select another match for you.”
I didn’t want this part. I suck at lying. I can’t just yes her, she’ll see it in my eyes. My stomach twists as I extend my hand toward her. “Deal,” I say, and we shake on it.
I agreed to be with another man if Sean won’t have me.
I hope to God that he says yes.
CHAPTER 7
“No freakin’ way is she wearing that dress,” Marty says with his hands folded over his chest. He towers over Mel, who is sitting next to him in the middle of a swank shop. Either way, I need a dress for my next tryst. I’m still waiting to hear back if it will be with Sean or not. My stomach is twisting in knots. I don’t feel like shopping, but I had hoped that it would distract me. Since Mel and Marty disagree on everything, it’s been an interesting evening.
“How can you say that?” Mel says exasperated. This is the seventh dress, the seventh pair of shoes, the seventh set of accessories that I’ve put on over the last hour and a half. “Look at how tiny her waist looks in that thing. That is THEE dress.”
Marty gets up and stands next to me. I’m on a little riser, standing in front of a mirror. The shop attendant looks at me, but says nothing. Marty points to my hips, “True enough, but it does nothing for this region and her boobs! My God, she looks like she’s nursed sixteen children. The braless look is for girls with falsies, not our Avery.” Marty gestures at my cleavage in this dress, or lack thereof. I look down. Okay, maybe he’s right. “A good dress doesn’t sacrifice one asset for another.” He snaps his fingers at the attendant. “Next please!”
“You’re such a drama queen,” I say as I step off the box. I add, “And stop snapping at the girl like she’s a labradoodle. She hates you enough already.”
He bats his eyes at her. “Sorry love. I just get so excited. You’re doing a smashing job. Keep up the good work.”
The attendant, Amanda, smiles and nods, but I’m sure she picturing strangling Marty in her mind. “I’ll get the next dress you chose. Just leave that one in the dressing room for me and I’ll put it back.”
I nod and traipse into the dressing room. I unzip the dress and pull the supple fabric over my head before putting it back on the hanger. I’m standing in my undies when my phone buzzes. I wouldn’t have heard it if I wasn’t in the dressing room. I pick it up and recognize the number. It’s Miss Black. Immediately, my heart starts to pound and hope fills my chest.
“Hello?” I say, answering the phone with a swipe of my finger. I’m so excited, so terrified. I want the perfect dress for Sean. I can’t wait to hear when our next date will be. Sean made is sound like we’d be seeing a lot of each other.
“Miss Stanz, good evening.” Miss Black sounds the same as usual. It’s hard to read her emotions. Maybe she doesn’t have any. “I’ve contacted Mr. Ferro and wanted to call and tell you the results of our conversation. As I suspected, he is no longer interested in using our services.”
A rush of air leaves my lungs and I sit down hard on the puffy seat inside my dressing room. “You told him that it’d be me?”
“Yes, I did. He was rather adamant that he no longer wishes to pursue the arrangement with you, even after I told him that you requested we call to correct this situation. I’ll find you another match. Give me a little time and we’ll have you all set. I’ll call you when everything is ready. Have a good evening.” And then the line goes dead. I stare at my phone. I feel like a hollowed out pumpkin. I put my head between my hands and try to collect myself.
Black’s words bounce around in my mind. It isn’t for a few moments that I realize what they meant—Sean didn’t want me. He rejected me. Worry pinches my face as I wonder what I did. Why would he say no? The other night, everything seemed perfect. I don’t understand why he would do this. I thought he liked me.
There’s a knock on my door. Amanda’s voice makes me jump. “I have your next selection here.” She opens the door and hangs the dress on a hook. When she turns to look at me, her smile falls. “Are you all right? You look ill.”
“I’m fine,” I manage to choke out. Pushing away the feelings bombarding me, I plan to fake my way through the rest of the night. I hand her the dress that made me look flat and pull this one on. It’s deep blue with silver stitching along the hem. There’s a thin belt at the waist and a neckline that dips into a deep V. The skirt hugs my hips before it flares at the thigh. It’s sexy and cute, all in one dress.
Zombie-like, I wander into the center of the store and show the dress. There’s a fake smile plastered on my face. Mel and Marty both gasp when I walk out. It’s a good sign.
Marty speaks first, “That is the dress, like thee fuck-me three ways til Tuesday dress.”
Amanda blinks, like she’s never heard a crass word before.
“Will you shut up, fifty shades of gay, and let her show us the dress!” Mel says to Marty, and hops up to look at me. “Spin around, honey. Show off your stuff.” I turn slowly, palms raised while they look me over. “You look hot, Avery. I agree with the drama queen over there. You have to get this one. It’s perfect. Sean will love it.”
I swallow hard and keep the smile on my face. “It’s not for Sean.”
“What?” they say in unison.
Marty looks at Amanda and flicks his hand while he talks, “Go get us sparkling waters, honey.” Amanda smiles and walks off. No doubt she’s going to spit in his. Marty and Mel flank me. We look in the mirror as we talk in hushed voices. “What happened? How do you know?”
“I got a call while I was in the dressing room. Sean declined.”
Mel’s eyes go wide and she looks at Marty who is uncharacteristically silent. Mel takes over. She slips her hand around my waist and says, “To hell with him, then. You don’t need him, Avery. He was eye candy. A crush. Nothing more. I’ll help you pick out a new guy, someone better.”
Marty eyes her. “You too? Is the whole school whoring, now?”
Mel goes on the defense. She folds her arms over her chest and narrows her eyes. “You got a problem with that?”
“No,” Marty says, almost whining, “I feel left out.”
That makes me laugh. It caught Mel off guard too and she snorts so loud that she sounds like a pig. We both stare at her. “Like you expected him to say that?” I shake my head. “Where’d you find this basket of gay, anyway?”
“He’s my lab partner,” I respond, waiting to see what Marty does about the gay accusation, but he just glosses over it. I wonder what’s going through his head. The last time I assumed I knew something about someone from the way they looked, well, it didn’t go well. It turns out that the woman wasn’t pregnant. Since then, I don’t blurt things out like that.
“That was witty,” Marty says, pressing his hand to his chin and examining Mel like he’s never seen her before. “I like what you did there.” The two of them chatter and I look at the dark blue dress and know that some other guy will be taking it off of me. I swallow hard and walk back to the dressing room to take it off. This is the dress that will be on me when I solve my financial problems. This is the dress that some guy will remove from me the night I lose my virginity.
Several hundred dollars later, I’m leaving the swank little shop with a new dress and silk shoes. It cost a good chunk of the money I earned with Sean, but it’s necessary to do whoever’s next. After we walk outside, I put the things in my car.
“Let’s go grab a bite to eat,” Marty says.
“Sounds good to me,” Mel replies.
Marty claps like he’s five and yells, “Shotgun!” This is a major turn of events, since he rode to the store with me. Mel met up with us and brought her car. Glancing at me he says, “No offense hun, but your car scares the glitter out of m
e.”
“None taken,” I say. “Listen, I’m going to run an errand and head back. I’m not really hungry, yet. Late lunch.” I’m lying, but neither one calls me on it. I wave and duck into my car.
I have to pick up my last paycheck from my previous employer. By the time I get there, it’s dark outside. The sun sets so early at this time of year. My sweater doesn’t do much to keep the chill away. I need to buy a coat. My mother would have yelled at me for wearing something so thin. God, I miss her. On chilly nights like this, she’d be cooking chicken noodle soup. Bread would have been baking in the oven all day, filling the house with that wonderful aroma. Memories like that sneak up on me at the worst times. I sit in my car for a moment, trying to push the past away.
Moving fast, I jog across the parking lot and walk into the front of the restaurant. There’s a line of people waiting to be seated. A man is talking to the hostess. There’s a beautiful woman on his arm. She has deep brown hair with a hint of red. A black dress clings to her curvy body. I envy her for a moment, wishing that I had curves like that.
“Hey, Stacy,” I say as I approach the hostess. “I just need to pick up my check.”
“Sure, but they weren’t ready when I came in. You might have to wait for it.”
I nod, intending to walk past her. I’m dressed like a bum, with tight jeans and my holey sweater. I stand out like a stripper in a preschool. A chill washes over me as I’m about to pass her. The guy at the podium turns. His blue eyes lock with mine and I freeze in place.
Sean.
We stare at each other for half a beat. Sean’s wearing a black suit that fits him so well. It shows off his shoulders and his trim frame. The shirt he’s wearing is the color of the night sky, perfectly blue—dark like my new dress. A chill encases my heart, as it tries to climb up my throat. I can’t do anything but stare.
