Thank you for your kind support.
Standard disclaimer.
Early Monday morning, Mercedes packed up her few belongings and carted them out to her rental.
Miss Osbourn, the clerk, hugged her and wished her Godspeed. She also told her, all the women in town and its environs, would be forever grateful to her, for her courage.
However, Mercedes did not feel quite so brave, as once again, she marched up the steps of the hotel and rang the bell.
After a moment, Carmen answered the door.
"Oh, Miss, you're back?"
"I certainly am, and I'll be moving into Miss Sue's room. Didn't Mr. Evans tell you?"
"Yes ma'am, he did. But I didn't believe it…and I'm not sure he did either. I just can't see Mr. Sam liking this." Mercedes shouldered her aside, politely.
"I don't imagine he will, but, he knows I'm coming." From somewhere in the back, she heard his deep male voice asking,
"Carmen, who's at the door?"
"The new owner of half the Lily," Carmen drawled and Mercedes wasn't sure if she was being sarcastic, or not.
"What?"
Sam Evans came striding into the entry hall, but by then, Mercedes and her luggage were already half-way up the winding stairs. He peered up at her.
"I thought you were bluffing." She glared at him and replied,
"I always say what I mean and do what I say."
He was freshly shaven and dressed in jeans, black tee and black Converse.
'Why does he have to look so sexy?'
Even from where she stood, she could smell the pleasant scent of his aftershave. Before her thoughts took over, she announced,
"I'm moving in, as I said."
"You can't do that! The locksmith hasn't gotten here yet…"
"Have you even called him as yet?"
"N-no," He stammered. "I didn't really think you'd have the gumption…"
"Oh, I've got gumption, Mr. Evans. Carmen, can you message the locksmith and have him come over and change the locks on Sue's door?"
The maid looked at Sam.
"You heard the lady," he snapped.
"Thank you." Mercedes dismissed them both, with a polite nod and continued up the stairs.
Half-dressed girls poked their heads out of their rooms, eyes wide and mouths open. They were of all heights and all hair colors, and all of them were pretty.
Mercedes gestured to one of them, a petite brunette.
"Can you please direct me to Miss Sue's room?" Instead, the girl looked helplessly over the open balcony and asked,
"Sam, what should I…?"
"Rachel, show the lady to Sue's room!" he thundered from below. He sounded furious. Good. Mercedes cheered internally.
"Thank you." She smiled down at him.
"You are not welcome! He shouted. "By the way, Miss Jones, we serve lunch around here at noon precisely. That way, we can open the Lily in the late afternoon for the first customers."
"Fine. Set a place for me." He turned away and marched off in the other direction, without uttering another word.
The girls were still staring open-mouthed, as the petite brunette, named Rachel, led her into a large bedroom.
"This Is Miss Sue's room, but…"
"And now, it's my room. I am Mercedes Jones, Miss Sue's niece and you are?"
"Rachel," the girl said and stared in curiosity, as Mercedes put her suitcase on the bench at the end of the bed.
"I think we are going to be friends, Rachel," Mercedes said, looking around.
"We are?"
"Despite what Mr. Evans may have told you, I am here to champion the cause of the working girl."
"Huh?"
Rachel wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, Mercedes thought sympathetically, but then, there was a distinct possibility, that none of these girls had any real education or any home-making skills.
No doubt, all of their skills were directed towards a mattress.
"Rachel, it is not polite to say 'huh'…a lady says, I beg your pardon." Rachel nodded and remained silent.
The pretty sneering blonde, called Quinn, sauntered in and leaned against the door jamb, smoking her cigarette.
"We ain't got no ladies here," she said. This one would be a major challenge, Mercedes thought. She smiled at her anyway.
"You can all be ladies, with a little training." Rachel looked hopeful.
"We can?"
"Certainly," Mercedes said, smiling at her.
"You hear that, Quinn?"
"Don't get your hopes up, Rach. We got a good place here and we don't want it changed." Mercedes was not one to be pushed. She had a backbone made of steel.
"We'll see about that. You two can go and we'll talk at lunch. By the way, ladies do not smoke."
"I ain't no lady," the blonde snapped.
Both girls left and Mercedes inspected the door as she closed it.
It was a heavy, sturdy door, that would be impossible to break down, once a good lock is put on it.
Not that she thought any man would break down a door to get to her.
She sighed.
She couldn't even imagine a man bothering enough to turn the doorknob.
At twenty-eight, she had long ago resigned herself to being an old maid.
She looked around the room. It was a large pleasant room, overly done in wine and pink brocades silk.
A thick Persian rug covered the floor and the scent of perfume lingered in the air.
It looked like a room decorated by a Madam. Mercedes was shocked to realize, she really liked the decorating.
Her room back home was small, bare and sparse, compared to this one, she silently admitted.
She started to unpack her things, wishing she had more nicer things to wear. And then she remembered, she had money, she could buy what she needed.
After she'd hung her few clothes in the closet and placed the others in the bureau, she discovered a wealth of expensive gowns, shoes and delicate lace underwear.
Her Aunt's things.
She sighed and stroked one of the fine silk gowns.
'Paid for by the wages of sin,' she thought.
She had never really known her aunt, she thought, and wondered how and why she had ended up in this life. What was it Sam Evans had said?
'Don't judge someone until you have walked a mile in their boots.'
Yet, she was ashamed and angry at Aunt Sue, for embarrassing her and her mother with her terrible lifestyle.
'But the money she's left, had to come from the wages of sin,' a voice inside her head said. She shook her head, as if to clear it and leaned against the ornate bedpost, recalling the scent of Sam's aftershave and the passion in his green eyes.
'Careful!' she silently admonished herself. Sam was not a man to be trifled with.
She rang for the maid, while she laid out a pair of leggings and a plain purple tee.
She thumbed through her aunt's clothes. There were lots of satins and silks, in many shades of blue and green. The woman had been tall and a bit voluptuous, and even if she wanted to, Mercedes couldn't wear any of those clothes.
She was definitely too short.
Plus, where would she go in them?
There were no guys beating down her door, not even in the recent past.
Carmen entered then, and brought her a tray with drinks and snacks.
"I don't know about you taking over Miss Sue's room," she muttered.
"I'm sorry, but there isn't any other place for me," Mercedes said and smiled. "Were you with my aunt long?"
"More than twenty-five years. She rescued me from something terrible. I know more about her than anyone else in the whole world. I also know about you…"
Her voice trailed off.
"Oh? Did my aunt speak about me?"
"More than you know."
The maid abruptly departed the room, leaving a puzzled Mercedes.
The handful of times she seen her aunt, there was something brewing between her and Mercedes' mother.
In the time that Mercedes' mom had been sick and ailing, not once had Sue given them a thought. Mercedes reasoned…she was too busy with her rich wastrel life.
And here Mercedes was, right in the middle of that same life. Her mother would've had a conniption, knowing she was actually going to live in a whorehouse.
"It won't be for long," she assured herself, as she headed for the shower.
The little clock on the bedside table was saying noon, when a bell rang downstairs and the maid called out,
"Lunch is on the table ladies."
Mercedes looked at herself in the long mirror by the closet door and sighed. Sometimes, she forgot how plain she looked, and now, she was in a place full of winsome beauties.
But, in her black leggings and her snug tee, she was still respectable.
It was going to take some courage to deal with these poor soiled doves…and especially, with Sam Evans. But she'd had a grim, joyless life, as long as she could remember, so she was used to adversity.
On a whim, she decided to release her hair from that tight, severe bun, she's always worn.
Her hair fell to her shoulders and immediately her features was transformed.
For a moment, she was tempted to put it back the way it was, but she decided to let it be and throw caution to the wind.
She went out her door and paused, looking down.
Except for the poker tables, the billiard table and the ornate bar off to one side, it was a magnificent room.
The stained-glass and the waxed floors, looked like a waiting room, or a foyer at a fine hotel.
She paused at the railing, noting it had been repaired and wondered about it.
Below her, Sam Evans appeared.
He was taken aback at her appearance. He licked his lips, shook his head and schooled his features.
"Miss Jones," he said, looking up. "We're holdin' lunch for you."
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude."
"You're looking over where Sue fell."
"She fell? From here?" He nodded.
"About where you're standing." Mercedes took a step backwards.
"Oh God!"
She came down the stairs and he waited for her at the bottom.
He held out his toned arm and she took it awkwardly. Immediately they both reacted as if they'd had a mild shock. But both said nothing.
Sam led her into another magnificent room, with a beautiful chandelier, hanging directly over a big, round, golden oak table, where the girls were already seated.
"Ladies, may I present Miss Mercedes Jones. She's gonna be with us a day or two…"
"Or maybe more," she said, smiling at the curious beauties. "Good day, ladies," she finished.
"We ain't ladies," Quinn said, as she glared at her and put both elbows on the table.
"She said we could be," Rachel, the little brunette said. Quinn snorted.
"You dummy, don't believe everything you hear. Don't you know a do-gooder when you see one?"
"Behave yourself, Quinn," Sam started. And then, pulled out Mercedes' chair, so she could sit down. Quinn subsided and poked food in her mouth, roughly.
There were seven young women at the table.
Besides Quinn and Rachel, there was a tall blonde-haired girl, a pair of brown-haired twins, a strawberry blonde and a Hispanic.
They all stared at her with bold curiosity.
There was an awkward silence, as Sam sat down at the head of the table.
"Miss Jones, I hear you've met Rachel and I know you've met Quinn. The tall one is Elaine, the twins are, Faith and Fern, the strawberry blonde is, Michelle and the exotic beauty is Eva."
Mercedes nodded and smiled.
"Nice to meet you all," she politely said. And Quinn glared back.
"Just what do you think you're gonna do here?" The others watched and waited. Mercedes forced herself to smile.
"Well, Miss Quinn, I haven't completely decided yet. I have ideas…but when I do, I'll discuss it with all of you ladies."
"I'm the most popular among the local guys," Quinn offered.
"Says you," the twins challenged Quinn. Mercedes made eye contact with Quinn and said to her,
"I have no doubt you are." Sam could feel the tension in the room. He pasted a stern look on his face.
"Ladies!" Sam glared at them, and they all settled down.
"I'm sure, we'll all get to be good friends. As I said, I have ideas," Mercedes said. Again, they looked at her curiously, while Sam smiled ever so slightly.
"Ladies, Miss Jones is Sue's niece from Lima. She's inherited Sue's half of the business." Quinn side-eyed Mercedes and said,
"She don't look like she can hold a candle to Sue." Mercedes stared her down, her brown eyes ablaze with fire.
"We'll see about that," she said, a threat clear in her tone.
At that the table went quiet, with everyone seemingly lost in their individual thoughts.
Quinn has showed her claws. Let's see if she can hold a candle to Mercedes. Much love to you!