Authors: Kaydee Scott
Always incredibly aware of her surroundings, a tactic she had learned to dodge trouble, she was surprised how heavily in thought she was when a man sat down next to her.
He was a nice looking man, late forties, salt and pepper hair but behind his warm smile she recognized what lay beneath the surface.
“May I buy you a drink?”
She laughed, not loud but a laugh nonetheless. “I’m a little young for you aren’t I?”
“Ouch,” he said grabbing his chest. “I knew when I looked at you, you would be a handful.”
So original. “Really, what else do you see when you look at me?” It was an honest question, right?
She jerked her head back after he lifted his hand to touch her hair. “I see a beautiful woman who looks extremely sad.”
Like that wasn’t obvious. “Is that so?”
“Very much so.” He lifted his drink. “You look at me like I’m the bad guy. It’s a little offensive really.”
I laughed again. “If you’re not the bad guy then who are you?”
“I’m the guy who can help you.”
What. The. Hell?
“How could you possibly help me? You don’t even know me.”
He smiled. “I may have overheard your conversation with the bartender.”
Great. Just great. “Look, go find yourself someone else to play with tonight. You won’t get anywhere with me so save that free drink and the cash in your pocket for someone you might actually get lucky with.”
His easy going attitude turned sour. “I haven’t needed luck a day in my life to get laid and I’m sure as hell not offering you money for a blow job out back.” The intensity in his eyes was off setting. “I should get up and leave you to figure out your own problems. See where that smart mouth of yours gets you. You may think your lie about having a place to stay was convincing but it wasn’t. I give you a week on the streets princess and you’ll be begging me for fifty bucks to blow me.”
I couldn’t say anything. I was frozen.
Lifting a piece of my hair he tucked it behind my ear and I didn’t so much as flinch.
“Now isn’t that a much better attitude. I’m just a nice guy trying to offer you a solution. What if I told you about a job that would give you the money you need for your tuition. Enough to cover your apartment and some extra for anything else you need.”
I knew it was stupid to listen to him and the best thing I could do was walk out and go home but I just couldn’t make myself get up. Not until I heard him out.
“How can you help me?”
Reaching into the breast pocket of his coat he pulled out his wallet. He handed her a black business card bearing only an embossed red X on the front of it. On the back he had written a phone number.
“Sometimes in life we have to make difficult decisions but if you really want to stay in school my best advice is to call the number on the back. She is a good friend of mine. Tell her I gave you the card and I seriously advise you listen to what she has to offer. You’re a beautiful girl, put it to use and you can pay for school yourself.”
Her hand trembled as she took the card from him as he stood up to leave. “I don’t know your name?”
“Hartsen.” Without another word he walked away.
After leaving the bar that night Nova deliberated over calling the number for two days. Her tuition was almost twenty thousand, books would add another thousand. Adding in food, rent and basic necessities she would need at least twenty-five thousand to make it to graduation and that was if she spent every dime sparingly. He had said the job would give her the money up front. The temptation of knowing that she could possibly graduate on time was too great to ignore.
Picking up her phone, she dialed the number.
Caroline Van Burden gave her no information about the job over the phone. Instead she planned to meet Nova at her apartment that same evening. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know what the job was, or at least the main part of it but Caroline was very clear she would only talk in person.
Ms. Van Burden wasn’t coming for an interview. She was coming to see what Nova looked like and the thought of it made her suddenly very self-conscious of her body. She thought perhaps if she were turned down that morally she would feel better for even considering it but Nova knew her body too well. Even if she tried to hide behind baggy clothes and no makeup she couldn’t hide herself.
Before Stanford came along, her mom had paid the bills by being a paid escort. Her mom was one of the most beautiful women she had ever seen and Nova looked just like her. She had the same body, tall and lean and they shared the same piercing green eyes. The only difference between the two was Nova’s dark brown hair.
Physically they matched almost like bookends but that was the only similarities they shared. Until now, Nova had never believed she would have to use her body like her mom had done, in fact she had tried damn hard to make it on her brains but today, being top of her class wouldn’t matter at all.
Caroline knocked on her door at exactly 5 o’clock. After Nova signed a waiver indicating that she was legally bound to never disclose any information that was discussed, Caroline proceeded to explain the position. Caroline agreed to give her the money she needed up front since she had been recommended so highly. In return, the club would keep eighty percent of her nightly earnings. The remainder she could keep or apply to her loan. She would work a minimum of three nights out of seven but the hours on those nights were not restricted. If she did well, it could be for only a few hours. If she did really well, it could be all night. Her employment would end upon payment in full unless she chose to remain on staff.
The job came with three stipulations: a health screen, drug test and mandatory birth control. She also had to sign another non-disclosure agreement that under no circumstances would her employment, her clients identity, nor any affiliation or admission of the clubs existence ever be discussed.
In the moments that she looked over the contract that Caroline offered her, the idea of what she was about to do struck her deep. It wasn’t that she didn’t think she could do it. Sex had always been nothing more than a need for fulfillment to her. She never craved a relationship or love. Stanford had taken that from her. This job would be no different than the other men she had slept with and walked out on in the middle of the night. The only difference was that now she would be paid for it. Holding the pen in her hand, she weighed the guilt of following in her mother’s footsteps but this was the only option she had graduate in time to get her dream job. Clutching the pen, she signed the contract.
Caroline hired a physician to meet with her. She had a clean bill of health but the doctor didn’t go without asking about the scar on her inner thigh. Caroline was present throughout her exam and said nothing when she saw the scar the physician questioned. Nova didn’t answer him. She would never discuss the scar, she couldn’t. Just thinking about it took her back to all the nights Stanford had come to her room. He was a sick bastard with an appetite for pain and punishment and he loved nothing more than to punish her when she misbehaved. The scar was a reminder.
After paying her tuition she had one last thing to do before preparing for her first night. She made the call to Stanford and then sent him a piece of a video she had recorded without his knowledge. Her threat was simple. “Contact me one more time or try to interfere in my life and this will be sent to the Georgia State Bar.”
X
was far less intimidating that she had expected. It was a gentleman’s club with a very exclusive yet anonymous client list. It was hidden in plain sight in Boston. “E
x
tension” as the sign read above the door was a front for a private club. It was set up with a large social area with a library and bar and much to her relief there wasn’t a stripper pole or stage anywhere in the building.
It had private poker rooms and a chef who prepared a full course meal nightly. Lobster Bisque and grilled Amberjack were but two of the items on the menu for the night. It had its own private wine cellar, top shelf bar and walk-in Humidor for the cigars kept in stock. All the rooms were decorated in dark colors lending the idea of the perfect environment for both seclusion and privacy.
She found relief in knowing that all the members signed the same agreement that she had and that Caroline was equally as concerned with the girl’s identity as she was the member’s.
Despite the elaborate and overly expensive décor, Nova knew not to be fooled into thinking it was anything more than it was. The men who adorned this place even with their wealth were no different than the men who picked up hookers. They just smelled a lot better and had a lot more money to spend.
After a brief tour, Caroline reviewed the rules:
Anonymity at all cost.
Nova had no idea that there were rules to sin but in reading the list and discussing them with Caroline, she realized that sin did in fact require guidelines.
Nova’s wardrobe had been pre-purchased. Each staff member had her own room. She had no idea how many other girls there were. She was relieved when her closet was filled with elegance and not the tube tops and thongs she feared. Caroline showed her through her closet explaining when certain things were to be worn. Elegant gowns and dresses bearing tags from Gucci and Versace, just to name a few, filled the closet along with Stiletto’s and heels from Jimmy Choo and other top designers. French tags accompanied all the lingerie. There was nothing cheap about the place. It truly was a high end gentleman’s club.
Each girl entered the building from the basement wearing their normal attire. They left in the same. Each girl had the option of using her real name or using one of their choosing, permitted it be approved. Nova had a strong suspicion that names like Diamond and Desire would not be permitted.
The idea of having another man call her by her name while her sole intention was to earn a paycheck to pay for college was nauseating to her. Instead she decided on Mia. Mia was the name of a mutt her neighbor had taken in. If Nova was going to act like a dog, Mia seemed like the perfect name.
The first night, Nova accompanied Caroline. It would be the first of three nights of observation. She would have one week following observation to accompany another girl at which time she would learn the roles within the club. On the 11
th
day, Nova would be an available
X.
The first three nights with Caroline was task related teaching. She met the chef, the bartender’s, the masseuse and the operational staff like the cleaning people and the dishwashers. Extension ran with the precision of a well-run hotel. The basement had industrial washers and dryers. Each day all bed linens, in occupied rooms were washed. All chairs with upholstery were shampooed. Cleanliness and sanitation were the highest priority.
She learned the cigar room, the wine cellar and how to inventory all items that were requested. Each member was logged only by number. No names were ever written. Any member requesting a cigar, meal or any form of alcoholic drink gave his own number of which the staff member would use to log the purchases. It was a clever system. With anonymity being the number one rule, it all made sense.
The one thing that truly bothered her was the idea of open sexual encounters. She didn’t dare tell Caroline she wasn’t comfortable being on public display. Instead she just hoped that it never came down to it. If it did, she would be expected to participate. The only thing she could out rightly refuse was anything that could physically harm her.
On the fourth night she was paired with a girl named Penny for her orientation days. She was a beautiful blond with long legs. Penny taught her makeup and attire choices. Friday and Saturday night were reserved for elegance. Sunday through Thursday was essentially party dresses.
Nova learned to serve drinks and brushed up on her social skills. She knew how to turn on the charm, she had done it for years in front of the media and the important people in Stanford’s circle. She even learned the proper way to grieve in public when her mother died. The one area Nova had to study was the art of sales and seduction. She had never had to put up an effort to get laid but this was an entirely different etiquette all together. She couldn’t afford to work and not get paid.
Night 5 was a Friday night. She wore a silver silk knee length dress and left her hair down and wavy. It was her time to serve drinks in the poker room. Each girl on duty took turns serving in the poker room and the library. This she had become familiar with but tonight was her first night to serve drinks alone.
Penny stopped beside her as she gathered her nerve outside the door.
“You’ll do fine Mia. There are only a few men in the poker room right now so it should make it easier for you. You’re on your own for the next hour though. Work this room and the library and keep an eye on everyone’s drinks. There is nothing to it, I promise.”
I nodded as she walked off. I wished her pep talk had helped as much as she wanted it to.
I had gone over the protocol a million times in my head. All drink orders were written separately and the member had to write his own number down on the order. I could do this.
Taking a deep breath I walked inside the poker room. Holding my tray to keep from shaking I made my way towards the table. “Gentleman, would anyone like a drink?”
Just saying the words made her uncomfortable. She had always considered her mother a whore but as the words left her mouth, she finally admitted to herself that she was exactly the same. Knowing there was no time for assimilation, she cast her emotions aside. She had a job to do.
There were five men sitting at the table as she approached but the only one she truly saw made every thought in her head disappear.
The minute their eyes met she had to force herself to take the breath she didn’t realize she had been holding.
Someone said something but it was just static in her ears. She couldn’t seem to take her eyes off of him. He was,
beautiful
.
Laughter brought her focus back to the room. It was then she realized that they were all staring at her as she had been openly staring at the man who was now wearing a very devilish smile. Wiping her sweaty palm against the side of her dress she hoped her face wasn’t as red as it felt.
A man at the other end of the table raised his finger. Thankful that the men were returning to their game she wrote down his order for Jack and Coke and handed him the paper to sign.
Trying to keep her eyes off of him she tried to appear less affected as she heard him say, “All in.”
She knew poker inside and out and with the chip count on the table she knew it was a sizeable pot. She wasn’t sure if she should wait out of respect for a crucial moment in the game or if she should keep going around the table but when the other three threw in their cards she proceeded to ask the other gentleman what they would like.
As she made her way around the table she watched him rake in his chips. He had just won a very large pot but the only thing he seemed focused on was her.
After waiting on him to stack his chips she walked to stand beside him as the next hand of cards was dealt. Taking the moment to really look at him he stretched back in his chair and smiled at her as though he knew exactly what she was doing and he didn’t seem to mind at all that she was staring again.
He had on black slacks and a slate gray dress shirt. His hair was as dark as hers but his eyes were a seductive chocolate brown. He had high cheek bones, a perfectly chiseled jaw and a smile that had her captivated. She tried really hard not to look down but when he stretched his arms above his head. Her imagination ran away at how good his body must look under those clothes.
She had never encountered a man so handsome or one that had ever completely overwhelmed her.
As his attention returned to the game, she scanned over the faces of the other men at the table, all were at least twenty years his senior. He couldn’t have been more than thirty but his youth didn’t affect the respect the elder men gave him. He was certainly a man of power she just wasn’t sure of what.
“Would you like a drink, Sir?” Her voice didn’t even sound like her own but at least she was now able to talk.
He picked up his cards and showed them too her. “What would you do if this were your hand?”
He held pocket aces. She knew poker etiquette well and wouldn’t give away his hand which meant she was going to have to get very close to him to tell him her thoughts. She knelt down beside him bringing her mouth to his ear.
Realizing this was her moment to make an impression on everyone in the room quietly she whispered in his ear. “How is your luck running?”
He quickly turned to look at her as she drew herself away from him. “How do you mean?”
She flashed a smile to the other men at the table and leaned in close to his ear again. “I loose with them as often as I win.”
A smile spread across his face. “Fold,” he said and tossed his cards face down on the table.
“Oh, honey” one of the other men grumbled with amusement, “You may have just cut your own throat if he threw down a winning hand.”
Refusing to show weakness from the man’s hopefully harmless threat she kept quiet and reminded herself she had a job to do. “Sir, would you like a drink?”
Another man spoke up, before he answered her. “She is trying to run in case she made you lose.”
She wasn’t sure what she was expecting when she looked at him to take his order but when she did, she knew he wasn’t happy with the mockery of the other men. She hoped like hell she hadn’t cut her own throat as the other man had insinuated because without a doubt this man sitting beside her did not like to lose.
Finally, he spoke. “Play the hand boys. I will be more than happy to show you my cards at the end. If I threw down a winning hand, I will buy you all a round of drinks.”
He looked up to her, “I’ll have a Johnny Walker on the rocks.”
She started to step away when he called her back.
“Don’t rush yet, sweetheart. Let’s see if your advice is going to cost me.”
Afraid to stand too close to the table for fear she would fall down and die if in fact he had the winning hand she stepped back and rested against the wall.
The flop turned up 2-8-King. One man raised the bet $5000 and the other three called.
A 6 came up on the turn.
No help there,
she thought. Again the man bet $5000 and the other men called again.
The river turned up a Jack.
No flushes, no straights, and no possibility of a full house. Pairs would win.
She knew the ace high pair he threw down would win it all but she kept her poker face waiting to see what rolled out. The gentleman again bet $5000. Two of the men folded, the other called simply on the pretense of thinking he was bluffing. There was $50,000 on the table not including the blinds. Her knees started to quiver.
When the two men turned over their cards, the gentleman who had lead the betting had pocket deuces. He had flopped trips. She wanted to jump up and down but of course she wouldn’t.
She didn’t intend to stay around for him to show what he had thrown down. All that mattered to her was that her advice was solid and she hadn’t cost him a whole lot of money.
He coughed to get her attention just as she started out of the room. When she turned back she saw him studying her back side. He cut his eyes from her ass to her face and pretended to write in the air.
She had forgotten to have him sign his drink order. Feeling like an idiot she walked back hurriedly and handed him the paper and pen she had been clutching for dear life. He scribbled the number seven on it and gave it back to her. As she walked out the door she knew when he turned his cards over to show what he had folded from the sounds of the other men. He hadn’t won the pot but he had won in every other way. There was no denying him that.