Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. But, the plot is my own
Chapter 3
I hurried to the back warehouse—what we called it, anyway—where Angela was already waiting. The moment I stepped inside, we fell into an easy flow of conversation. She launched into an update about her car troubles, gesturing animatedly as she spoke about her conversation with the unfortunate mechanic.
When it was my turn to share, I slid the card across the steel workbench without a word.
Angela stared at it for a long moment, her big glasses sliding down her nose as her face twisted in confusion.
"Who's that?" she asked, her tone sharp with suspicion.
"Some millionaire, I think," I replied with a laugh.
"Is he here now?"
I shrugged, unsure myself. "He just handed me that and then I ran back here."
"Ugh, thank God," she muttered, peeling off her sweater and grabbing an apron from the coat rack. "Maybe we'll get decent tips tonight."
"You're a riot," I said, shaking my head as I tapped the thick, expensive-feeling business card on the bench. My eyes lingered on it, and my mind drifted back to Whitlock's words.
"Leah!" Angela called, louder this time, as she fussed with her things before the shift.
"Yeah!" I snapped out of it, glancing up.
"Did he tip you?!" she asked, clearly irritated. She'd probably been repeating herself while I'd zoned out.
"Yeah, couple hundred," I said, striding over to where she stood near the punch clock, waiting for her exact time to clock in.
She groaned happily. "Fuck yes!"
I bit my lip, still fumbling with the card, unable to hold back any longer. I mentioned Whitlock's pitch—the private club, the auction, the contracts—all of it vague and mysterious but undeniably intriguing.
Angela's expression shifted to growing horror as I rattled it off.
"You're not actually thinking about doing that cryptic shit, are you?"
"Me?" I scoffed, immediately regretting how defensive it sounded. "Nah, nope. Just… odd, that's all."
But I couldn't help myself. The air of mystery clung to me. The way Whitlock had described it—it sounded like he was asking me to be auctioned off as a sex slave for a week. The thought made my stomach twist. And yet… how much money are we even talking here? If the clients look anything like the man running it...
"Good," Angela said firmly, pulling me out of my thoughts. "They're probably into some satanic shit." She punched her card with a satisfying click.
"Yeah, they'd sacrifice me for better profits," I said with a cold chuckle.
I dropped it, feeling the judgement cast off her like wild fire.
Four hours into my shift, one of the new girls showed up for a shift she wasn't even scheduled for. It threw all of us into confusion, glancing at each other as we tried to figure out the schedules. If someone could go home early tonight, I wouldn't complain if I were the lucky one.
I just wanted to sleep.
Laurent suddenly appeared from his usual hidey-hole in the back, holding out the phone. "It's for you," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. Angela gave me a wary glance as I stepped toward the back room.
It was Jacob Black on the phone.
Goofy, irritating Jacob.
"The fuck do you want, dude?" I said, barely suppressing my annoyance. "Getting in the way of my money."
"Funny, Clearwater," he drawled, saying my last name in that infuriating way he always did. A shiver ran through me at how deep and thick his voice sounded over the line. "Hey, you know your brother?"
"Seth?"
"Yeah, yeah, Seth," he said, pausing for a beat. "So, he—"
"What the fuck happened, Jacob?" I snapped, hissing into the phone.
"I'm getting to it, Lee Lee," he said sarcastically, using the nickname he knew I hated.
Jacob explained how Seth had gotten into a scuffle outside the shop. Apparently, it wasn't his fault. He'd been walking alone, carrying a bag of fast food and listening to music when two kids from school bumped into him on purpose. A back-and-forth ensued, one of them shoved him, and Seth went ape shit.
Jacob had been nearby—garage open—and stepped in to stop it. He told the other two to scram and brought Seth inside to cool off.
"You want me to bring him home?" he asked smoothly.
I sighed, my tongue clicking against the roof of my mouth. "No, I'll pick him up, okay?"
"You sure?"
"Yeah, Jacob. I really don't need your help," I scoffed.
He chuckled, the sound irritatingly warm. "Why are you so stubborn?"
I checked the time. "I'm hanging up now, I'll be by to pick him up."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, okay, wait!"
I pulled the phone away from my ear, my free hand perched on my hip as I leaned against the wall.
"You there?"
"Yes," I muttered.
"What?"
"Yeah, fucktard," I said louder into the receiver.
Laurent popped his head through the back door, mouthing if I needed to leave.
I pleaded with my eyes, hoping he'd understand. Laurent nodded, waving me off and telling me I didn't have to close tonight. He'd figure it out, new girl was here training, I was good to go. Emmett would be disappointed, I wouldn't be back to work for the next three nights anyway.
"I love the nicknames you give me," Jacob said smugly, "but seriously, take your time. No rush."
I stayed silent, waiting for him to finish.
"He's okay with me, Clearwater, chill out," Jacob grumbled, sounding slightly irritated. "You seem tense."
"I am," I admitted honestly.
"Exactly," he said. "So, I don't know… go for a L ride, blast your music. Do some random errands you've been putting off. I've got Seth. He's safe. We'll be waiting for you at home, honey."
Smug ass. He thinks he's so cute.
"Don't make copies of my spare key, psycho," I shot back quickly.
"I know you just can't wait to see me," he joked.
"Just bring him home, please. I'll stop by the market once I'm out of here."
"Yes, ma'am," Jacob replied with a low rumble.
"Where's my brother at? Put him on the phone."
I heard the phone shift on his end, and then Seth's voice came through.
"Hey, ya nut. I'll talk to you at home," I said softly.
"Yeah, I know," Seth sighed.
"Anything else?" Jacob asked.
After confirming everything was fine, we hung up. Seth was in one piece, at least.
As irritating as Jacob could be, I had to admit it was sweet of him to look out for Seth. He'd always been that way, even if he annoyed the hell out of me growing up. His family had moved into the neighborhood after his father passed away, and for years we were in each other's orbit—birthday parties, school events, neighborhood gatherings. Always finding something slick to say. Being fresh. Being annoying, irritating, all of the above.
I stopped going to those parties around middle school, though. My dad got sick around that time, and everything changed.
I gave Angela a big hug before leaving, reminding her to call me once she got home after her shift. Across the room, I waved to Emmett, who puckered his lips at me with exaggerated humor.
Grabbing my things, I ducked out into the night.
By the time I got back to the house, groceries in tow, Jacob and Seth were already there. As I climbed out of the truck, Jacob appeared at the front door, leaning against the frame like he had all the time in the world.
"Where is he?" I called out, not bothering with pleasantries.
"Need help?" Jacob offered, ignoring my question.
"Where is he, Black?" I demanded again, this time with more edge in my voice.
Jacob chuckled, shaking his head. "Relax, he's upstairs sleeping, fool."
I grumbled under my breath as I hauled the bags out of the truck. Before I knew it, Jacob was beside me, popping up like a ghost.
"Jumpy, eh?" he teased, flashing me his signature grin.
"It's been a long night," I muttered, brushing past him with an armful of groceries.
"Y'know," Jacob said, following me into the kitchen, "those kids that were picking on Seth were talking some crazy shit."
"Oh, yeah?" I asked distractedly, unloading the bags onto the counter.
"Yeah. Something about your name came up, and I think that's what set him off," Jacob sighed, placing the bags he carried onto the kitchen table.
My stomach twisted uncomfortably.
"He's just super protective of you guys, that's all," Jacob added, leaning casually against the counter. His easygoing smile didn't quite match the gravity of his words.
"Well, what if you hadn't been there, Jacob?" I snapped, slamming a can of soup onto the counter. The loud thud echoed through the room, and I bit my lip as his smile only widened slightly.
"That's intense," he said with a low whistle.
"Look, I know a lot's been going on—" he began, but I wasn't in the mood for his calm approach.
"Jacob, we don't need a caretaker," I interrupted sharply. "Seth needs real help."
The words hung in the air between us, heavy and unspoken until now. Jacob's expression softened, but he didn't say anything right away. Instead, he nodded slowly, his easy demeanor giving way to something more serious.
"And what are you going to do? Ship him off to a psych ward?" Jacob challenged, his arms crossed over his broad chest. "Come on, Clearwater. He needs support—from everyone."
"I didn't say anything about getting him admitted," I muttered, guilt prickling at his words. "Maybe counseling?"
Jacob tilted his head, his brown eyes flicking to mine. "You know, I think you could get used to having me around to argue with."
I rolled my eyes, but I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks. "Don't flatter yourself."
"Oh, I don't have to," he said with a grin, crossing his muscular arms in front of his chest. "You're blushing."
"Am not," I retorted quickly, my voice lacking conviction.
Jacob chuckled, the sound warm and frustratingly contagious. "Sure, Clearwater. Whatever you say."
I sighed, pressing my hands against the cool counter and leaning into it slightly. "I might be coming into some big money soon."
His brow lifted as he studied me, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "Money, huh? Planning to buy me something nice?"
"Not everything's about you, Jacob," I shot back, though my lips twitched, threatening a smile.
"I'm just saying, don't hold out on me," he teased, his eyes twinkling. Then, more seriously, he added, "I don't think money's gonna fix everything, you know."
"Yeah, well, it wouldn't hurt either," I shrugged, avoiding his gaze.
He waited, clearly expecting me to elaborate. When I didn't, he chuckled. "What is this, some kind of ponzi scheme?"
"Dammit, Jacob, you never let anything go," I snapped, scrambling for a convincing answer. "No, it's nothing. I just might be getting a really good bonus, that's all."
His expression shifted, equal parts amused and skeptical. "At the club?"
"Yeah," I said quickly, forcing a casual tone. "I've been saving, and this bonus might help me out a little." The words felt bitter in my mouth, the lie weighing heavy.
Jacob leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a playful murmur. "Sounds like you're hiding something, Clearwater. Should I be worried?"
I met his gaze, resisting the urge to squirm under the intensity of his stare. "You really don't know when to quit, do you?"
He grinned, that maddening, confident grin. "It's always fun to mess with you a little. Besides, what's this bonus for? Will I be able to swing by and get a dance from you?"
My glare could've melted steel. "No," I said firmly.
"Well, that's disappointing," he said with mock regret.
"You're a pig," I scoffed.
"And it's right around my feeding time," he quipped, glancing at his watch. "Anyway, I've gotta head back to the shop. Happy I could help. If Seth needs anything, I told him to call me."
I rolled my eyes, but his teasing grin didn't falter.
"Oh, come on, Clearwater, lighten up."
"Thank you, Jacob, for intervening," I said, my tone begrudging but sincere.
"Anytime," he replied, flashing a final smirk before heading out.
As the door clicked shut behind him, the guilt settled in deeper. Lying to Jacob felt awful, but Angela's earlier warnings rang in my ears. If I told him the truth, he'd probably echo her concerns.
The money could be life-changing, though. If things kept going the way they were, bankruptcy might be inevitable. I couldn't afford to let this opportunity slip away—not with Seth depending on me.
.
..
...
The next day came and went. Seth had already left by the time I woke up, groggy and disoriented. My eyes landed on the little white business card from last night, and a shiver ran through me as I picked it up.
This sounded too good to be true—but depending on how much money we were talking about, it might just be worth it.
Taking a deep breath, I dialed the number.
It rang twice before a cheerful, polished female voice answered. "New recruit?"
"I guess," I said hesitantly. "My name's Leah Clearwater."
She let out a light, musical laugh. "Don't worry, doll. We'll take good care of you. My hubby filled me in about you this morning. I'm Alice. The next ball is tomorrow night. Dress sexy."
"Meaning?" I asked, unsure.
"Think a hot dress—or even lingerie, if you're feeling bold. Totally up to your comfort level," she said casually, as if this were the most normal conversation in the world.
I glanced at my closet, biting my lip. "Uh…"
"Got a dress?" she asked knowingly.
"Not really," I admitted.
"What's your size?"
I rattled it off, feeling like I was in a dream.
"Perfect," she chirped. "I've got something for you. I'll text you the address—be there by eight sharp tomorrow night. And don't stress, okay? You'll do great."
The call ended, leaving me holding the phone and staring at the card again. What had I just gotten myself into?
I had to start thinking of who could be home tomorrow for Seth.
I didn't want to call Paul or Quil. They'd be too inquisitive, I just can't have anyone knowing my business right now. Didn't want anyone who could potentially talk me out of it. I picked up the house phone, glaring at it for a moment before I began to dial instinctively.
"Black," I huffed, rolling my eyes as I heard the call being answered.
"Well, well, well, look who finally decided to call me," he teased, his voice laced with that familiar smugness.
"Do you mind spending tomorrow night over here to keep an eye on Seth?" I asked, ignoring his tone.
"Sure," he said without hesitation, but then added with a sly grin I could hear through the phone, "What's the occasion? Hot date?"
"Not your business, Black," I replied smoothly, though a hint of amusement crept into my voice.
"Whatever happened to that whole 'I don't need a caretaker' thing?" he teased.
I grumbled under my breath, "Are you going to help or not?"
"Sheesh, alright," he chuckled. "What time?"
"Around seven o'clock."
"Seven it is," he agreed easily.
"And hey," I added before he could hang up.
He paused, waiting. "Yeah?"
"Thank you."
There was a beat of silence before he replied, his voice softer now, almost playful. "No problem, Clearwater. Anything for you."
"Don't get cocky again," I warned, a smile tugging at my lips despite myself.
"Too late," he shot back, laughing. "See you tomorrow."
"I'm counting the minutes," I said dryly, garnering a hearty laugh from Jacob before hanging up the phone.
Seth had come home a half hour after I'd gotten off of the phone. His face downcast as he barely said two words to me, immediately heading to his bedroom. I stayed silent as I heard his bedroom door shut.
...
..
.
The next night, I was sprinting through the house, trying to get ready for...whatever this was all going to be. I tossed clothes into an overnight bag, unsure of what to bring. After some deliberation, I grabbed my only pair of strappy black heels. They were uncomfortable, but they'd have to do.
Time was slipping away faster than I realized, and my heart raced as I scrambled to finish packing.
A knock at the front door jolted me from my thoughts. Glancing at the clock, I saw it was close to seven. I already had a pretty good guess about who it would be.
I swung the door open to find Jacob standing there, hands casually tucked in his pockets.
"Thank you again, Black. I really appreciate this," I said hurriedly, grabbing my bag from the round kitchen table.
He raised an eyebrow at my flustered state. "Don't mention it, Clearwater."
"Oh, and I cooked," I added, pausing for a second to meet his gaze. "There's food to keep the beasts at bay." I managed a small grin.
Jacob smirked. "Good. Wouldn't want anyone getting hangry while you're out."
"It's chicken alfredo, nothing fancy."
Jacob groaned dramatically. "Ugh, Clearwater, you shouldn't have. You're making me look bad."
I paused as I moved through to the front room, double-checking that I had everything. When I turned back, my gaze landed on him standing in the kitchen doorway, his broad frame nearly filling the space. His arms were crossed over his chest, showcasing those stupidly muscular arms, and his long hair was pulled into a messy bun that somehow still looked good.
"He's asleep," I said softly, nodding toward the back.
Jacob tilted his head, his dark eyes locking on mine. "Did you tire him out with all your nagging?"
I snorted, shaking my head. "No, genius, he's just exhausted. Stress case."
He nodded, his expression softening slightly. "I could've cooked for us, you know," he offered, his tone unexpectedly sincere.
I raised an eyebrow. "You? Cook? You'd probably set my kitchen on fire."
"Wow, no faith in me," he said with mock offense. "I make a mean frybread, Clearwater."
"Uh-huh, sure you do," I said, slipping on my shoes. "Anyway, it's no problem. I figured since you're doing me this favor, I'd make it easy for you."
Jacob leaned casually against the doorway, his biceps flexing slightly as he adjusted his stance. "You know I'd do it for the kid anytime," he said seriously. "He's a good kid. I'm surprised he's asleep, though—I was kind of looking forward to destroying him in Uno."
I laughed lightly. "He's been out for a bit. Don't worry; he'll probably be up soon to hand you that loss."
Jacob smirked, his gaze lingering a second longer than usual. "Ah, so you're saying you trust me with him now?"
I sighed, rolling my eyes. "With you watching him? After tonight if all goes well, maybe. But, unfortunately, you're what I've got right now."
His smirk grew into a full-blown grin. "So romantic, Clearwater. You really know how to make a guy feel special."
"Don't push it," I said, standing upright and adjusting my bag. "Just make sure he doesn't sneak out, and don't do anything dumb."
Jacob leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping into a teasing tone. "Define dumb."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Anything you'd normally do."
He chuckled, the deep sound vibrating in his chest. "That hurt."
I shook my head, brushing past him toward the door, but not before his low voice called after me.
"Hey, Leah."
I stopped, glancing over my shoulder. "What?"
"You're welcome," he said, his tone soft but playful.
I rolled my eyes again, though I couldn't help the small, reluctant smile tugging at the corner of my lips. "Don't let it go to your head, Black."
As I stepped outside, I exhaled a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. Jacob Black might be irritating, but damn if he didn't know how to get under my skin—in more ways than one.
On the drive to the address I'd been texted nearly an hour ago, my hands trembled against the steering wheel. Doubt churned in my stomach. Was I really going to follow through with this?
Eventually I arrived at a large hotel, a row of car attendants stood at attention. One of the men approached as I pulled up, offering a polite smile while waiting for me to step out and hand him the keys.
"Do I pay you, or...?" I asked, my voice tinged with uncertainty.
He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "No, ma'am."
He climbed into my car and drove off to park it, leaving me standing in front of the opulent rotary doors. Clutching my overnight bag, I took a steadying breath and stepped inside.
The lobby was breathtaking. Marble floors gleamed beneath dazzling crystal chandeliers, and a faint scent of roses and vanilla lingered in the air. Feeling out of place, I approached the front desk. After a brief, awkward exchange, the cheerful blonde behind the counter handed me a room key after I gave her my name.
"Enjoy your evening," she said with a warm smile.
I rode the elevator up to the tenth floor, the soft hum of its movement a stark contrast to the storm of nerves brewing inside me. My room was stunning—sleek, modern, and impeccably clean. On the neatly made bed lay a short black lace dress, the fabric shimmering faintly under the soft lighting. Beside it were matching heels and a ruby-red, jewel-encrusted masquerade mask resting delicately on the pillow.
A small note beside the mask read: Please join us in the party hall on the tenth floor. Don't forget your mask.
After a few moments of staring at the outfit, I began to change. The dress clung to my figure like it was made for me, and the lace felt soft and luxurious against my skin. I tried pinning my curls into an updo but grew frustrated after a few failed attempts and let them cascade loosely over my shoulders.
As I stepped into the hallway, the faint thump of music reached my ears, growing louder with every step. The sound vibrated through the walls, an electric pulse that seemed to sync with my heartbeat.
When I entered the party hall, I stopped short, momentarily overwhelmed by the sight before me.
The space was immaculate, every detail exuding opulence. Vaulted ceilings were adorned with glittering chandeliers, their crystals casting dazzling reflections across the polished marble floor. Richly patterned rugs lay beneath clusters of plush velvet armchairs, each paired with gilded side tables. The guests matched the grandeur of the room, dressed in elegant evening attire, their intricately designed masks adding an air of mystery.
It felt like stepping into another world—a world far removed from my own. My anxiety swelled, but I forced myself to move forward, determined to blend into the dazzling sea of strangers.
People buzzed around me, voices blending into a steady hum, and then I felt a hand on my elbow. I turned toward the source—a man. I was a bit more jumpy than I'd like to be. The man in question wore a mask, like everyone else, but what little I could see hinted at a dangerously handsome face.
A sculpted square jawline, pink, full lips curved in an easy grin.
"Hello," he said, his tone polite but confident.
I hesitated, then introduced myself as Andrea. I wasn't about to use my real name. He took my hand, his grip gentle yet deliberate, brushing his fingers over my palm before releasing it.
"Edward," he said by way of introduction.
"Are you part of a couple?" he asked, his head tilting slightly.
My brows knitted together beneath my mask. "Uh, no, I'm hired," I said awkwardly, immediately regretting the bluntness of my answer.
His eyebrows lifted in mild surprise. "You look stunning," he said, his voice warm.
I felt heat rise to my cheeks. "Thanks. You look pretty schnazzy yourself."
That earned me a smile, one that somehow managed to put me more at ease and yet keep me on edge.
"Am I not what you expected from a hired girl?" I asked, trying to sound casual but feeling anything but.
He shrugged, his movements loose and unbothered. "Just used to seeing the same crowd. Whenever there's a new face, people tend to notice."
That didn't exactly make me feel better. If anything, his words put me further on edge, and I suspected he could tell.
"Nothing to worry about," he added, his tone light but pointed. "Just a lot of talking—for now, anyway."
I shot him a skeptical glance, my unease bubbling just under the surface.
Why the hell did I agree to this?
"Do you know what this is, like... really?" he asked, his head tilting slightly.
I shook my head and shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Not really," I admitted, though my stomach churned with doubt.
Just as he was about to explain, a masked brunette woman approached him, her presence commanding his attention instantly. Without a word, he allowed himself to be pulled away. She didn't bother hiding the venom in her gaze as she shot me a deadly glare through her jade-green mask, her eyes cutting into mine like daggers.
I was left standing awkwardly, my confidence wavering. A few others came up to introduce themselves, their polite smiles doing little to settle the unease bubbling inside me. I was already feeling like I had one foot out the door, my thoughts drifting to the exit.
As I turned to find my way out through the doors I came through, I collided with a petite body in the doorway.
"Shit!" she yelped, papers scattering everywhere. The voice sounded somewhat familiar.
"I'm so sorry!" I blurted, dropping to my knees to help her gather the mess.
Her lips curved into a soft smile as she studied me. "You are a stunner," she said, her tone almost reverent.
"Uh… thanks?" I replied, my voice unsure.
"Are you trying to leave?" she asked, her mouth falling open in exaggerated shock. "Oh, honey, trust me, you're gonna wanna stay."
Before I could protest, she urged me back into the large room.
I lingered near the buffet table, pretending to pick through the decadent array of hors d'oeuvres. My fingers brushed the edge of a plate as I fidgeted, trying to ease the growing itch under my dress. It was a stunning piece—a tight black lace number. It hugged my curves like a second skin and rode high on my thighs, leaving me both confident and slightly self-conscious.
Another couple approached me, their masks sparkling under the chandelier light as they greeted me warmly. I managed a polite smile, but my mind was elsewhere.
Why was I such a spaz? Everyone seemed friendly enough, but I couldn't fully immerse myself in the moment. My thoughts kept circling back to Seth, hoping he was okay and that enlisting Jacob's help tonight wouldn't come back to bite me.
Suddenly, a voice crackled to life over a microphone, sharp and commanding, yet familiar. It was the woman I'd bumped into earlier.
"Alrighty, ladies and gentlemen," she said, her tone laced with authority, "grab your notepads and head to the conference room. My sexy guests will be waiting in the bar area—time to move out!"
The room erupted into motion as people began filing toward various exits. Some of the couples and guests who had introduced themselves earlier made their way through a discreet door in the back. My eyes caught a flash of jade green—the mask of that brunette woman from before—heading in another direction with a group of others. Instinctively, I decided to follow, assuming they were the ones I should probably stick with.
We shuffled into a swanky room that practically oozed luxury. The flicker of candles lined the walls, their golden glow highlighting the intricacies of the wallpaper, which likely cost more than my entire life savings. The room smelled faintly of vanilla and polished wood, a subtle but deliberate indulgence.
Plush couches were arranged in cozy clusters, upholstered in rich velvets and silks that begged to be touched. A self-serve bar stretched along one side of the room, stocked with top-shelf liquors and gleaming crystal decanters. Alongside it, trays of decadent snacks and artfully arranged treats tempted anyone within reach.
As the others dispersed, mostly women, and some flamboyant men, chatting in low murmurs or making their way toward the bar, I lingered near the snacks, unsure where else to go. My fingers absently traced the lace detail of my dress. Again, I felt stunning, but every shift of fabric reminded me of how exposed I felt.
The room buzzed with an undercurrent of anticipation, a mix of elegance and tension that made my pulse quicken. I tried to blend in, silently observing and waiting for whatever was supposed to happen next.
The group was chatting animatedly as they poured drinks. Meanwhile, I lingered by the snacks, nibbling on something that tasted far fancier than it had any right to be.
Their voices blended into a symphony of chatter, laughter, and the occasional clink of glasses. I watched them from the corner of my eye, trying to ignore the tightening in my chest. It felt like the room was closing in, the overwhelming luxury and social energy threatening to pull me into another spiral of dissociation.
I took a deep breath, grounding myself with the small, tangible act of eating, trying to hold on to reality as it slipped through my fingers. I sat in a chair nearby.
A man dressed in a strikingly elegant pink bedazzled suit slid onto the chair beside me. Bringing the scent of his strong musky cologne with him, twirling the straw in his drink with a casual flair. His dark skin glowed under the warm candlelight as he crossed one leg over the other, exuding an air of confidence. His mask was also pink.
"You excited, new girl?" he asked with a knowing smirk.
I cast him an uneasy glance, my guard shooting up. He chuckled at my reaction, his laugh smooth and unbothered.
"Relax. I'm Alex," he said, extending a hand. "Not so long ago, I was the new kid too."
I shook his hand tentatively. "Nice to meet you, Alex, I'm Andrea."
"So, like," I began cautiously, leaning in slightly, "is this a sex club?"
He shrugged nonchalantly. "Kinda. But the money, honey. That's what keeps me coming back," he said, his grin widening. "I used to work at another private club until this lady approached me about joining here. Best decision I ever made."
"Good for you," I said, offering a faint smile.
He took a sip of his drink, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Where'd they pluck you from? You strip?"
I nearly choked on the cucumber slice I was munching. "No!" I sputtered, coughing as I waved a hand at him.
He laughed again, clearly entertained by my reaction.
"I'm a barback," I said, shrugging it off. "Got handed a card, and… here I am."
Alex smirked knowingly, leaning back with the ease of someone entirely at home in this world. "Well, buckle up, new girl. It's gonna be a ride."
"I'm not sure I'm ready for said ride," I replied dryly, raising an eyebrow.
He laughed, a rich, genuine sound. "You are funny!"
I sighed, deflating slightly. "I'm not too sure if I fit in, you know?"
Alex tilted his head, his tone softening. "It feels like that at first. But trust me, girl, you've got it going on," he said with a spark in his voice. "If you play your cards right, you might leave with a pretty penny."
I wrapped my arms around my waist, feeling exposed despite my carefully chosen dress. "Why are we waiting in here anyway?"
"They're bidding right now."
"Bidding?"
He nodded, swirling his drink lazily. "Yep. Bidding for a date with any of us."
"Shit," I puffed out. "What happens if no one bids on me?"
He chortled, a dramatic roll of his eyes accompanying the laugh. "Honey, relax," he said, drawing the word out like a hiss. "There's plenty to go around. Trust me, you won't be overlooked."
"When do we find out?"
"Shouldn't be too long now," he said, popping his lips with a little smirk.
"Alex!" a sharp voice called out from the bar.
I turned to see the brunette who'd pulled Edward away earlier, now waving her manicured hand in our direction. Her gaze was locked on Alex, her smile stretched tight with barely contained irritation. "Quit babysitting and come over here. You're wasting your time."
My brows furrowed at her tone.
Alex sighed, his annoyance written all over his face. He leaned closer to me and whispered, "Ignore her. That's 'Sage', she's such a bitch."
I smirked, finding a little relief in his candidness.
"She's just jealous. Her usual bidder was looking all around for you," he added with a sly grin.
I blinked, stunned. "Me?"
He nodded, his smile widening as he saw my disbelief. "You have no idea how intimidating you are to some of these pristine-ass women around here, do you?"
I gave him a dumbfounded look, still trying to process his words.
The brunette's voice cut through the air again, sharper this time. "Seriously, Alex. I know you love a charity case, but don't let it ruin your night."
Alex turned his head slightly and shot her a look, one eyebrow arched in playful defiance. Then, leaning back toward me, he added with a chuckle, "See what I mean? Jealous as hell."
I couldn't help but laugh at his audacity, though my stomach tightened at her words.
"Like I said," Alex continued, patting my arm with comfort, "you're one funny lady. And clearly, you've already got people talking."
I forced a small smile, though irritation bubbled under the surface. That brunette—Sage, according to Alex—had some nerve. The audacity to talk about me like that, right in front of everyone, made my blood simmer.
"I'm gonna schmooze some more. You just relax; ain't nothin' to worry about," Alex said, standing up and grabbing a pen and pad from a nearby table. He scribbled something down, then slid the pad toward me. "Write your number, yeah? I'll give you mine, too."
I jotted my number onto the paper and took the torn slip he handed me, his wink leaving me both amused and perplexed.
Before he could fully walk away, I reached out and grabbed his wrist, pulling him back toward me. "My real name is Leah, by the way," I murmured, barely above a whisper.
Alex's smirk softened into something almost kind. "Your secret's safe with me, honey," he said, patting my hand lightly before strolling off to rejoin the crowd.
As he blended into the lively group, laughter and clinking glasses erupting around him, I stayed put, my thoughts swirling.
That brunette—Sage—had the gall to call me a charity case. Sure, my situation wasn't ideal, but who the hell was she to judge? And from a group of little sex workers, no less? Hypocrisy wasn't exactly what I'd expected to encounter here.
For a fleeting moment, I entertained the idea of marching over to her and letting her have it. But before I could muster the energy, a sharp knock echoed through the large double doors we'd entered earlier.
The room quieted almost instantly, the knock commanding attention like the start of an important announcement. The petite woman I'd slammed into earlier stepped through the doors, her outfit perfectly polished—a light blue silk button-up tucked into tailored slacks, paired with sleek black dress shoes.
"Ladies, ladies, ladies," she sang out melodiously, her voice effortlessly commanding the room. "And some gentlemen," she added with a sly grin, correcting herself.
Somewhere from the crowd, Alex's voice chimed in, "I know that's right!"
A ripple of laughter spread through the room, but she didn't miss a beat.
"Now, you all know the drill—with one little exception," she said, her sharp eyes landing on me briefly. "So, file on out. I'll be dropping envelopes off one by one from the rooms we've set up. Your names are marked on the doors. Go get some rest, get comfy, and I'll see you all in a bit."
The group began moving past her in a steady stream, their chatter hushed as they exited. Soon, it was just the two of us left. I hadn't budged from my seat.
She gave me a pointed look and motioned for me to follow her.
I stood quickly, nearly tripping over the edge of the plush carpet. Heat rose to my cheeks, but I managed to recover, straightening my dress as I hurried after her. Her heels clicked against the marble floor with a rhythm that matched her efficient pace.
We turned a corner, then another, the opulence of the hallways stretching endlessly. Just as I started to wonder how massive this place truly was, she stopped to scoop up a large stack of papers waiting for her on a long, intricately carved table.
"Um, excuse me?" I began tentatively.
She glanced over her shoulder, her tone bright. "I'm the one you spoke with on the phone the other day."
"Oh," I replied, watching her small frame navigate gracefully despite the towering pile of documents in her arms.
"Well… what am I supposed to do now?" I asked, still feeling lost.
She gave a light laugh. "Follow me, duh."
I sighed and fell in step behind her. Remembering her name was Alice. "Okay, Alice, but I don't really understand—"
"Babe," she interrupted, her voice matter-of-fact as she continued down the hallway, "your earnings are upwards of half a million right now."
Her words hit like a brick, and I stopped dead in my tracks.
She didn't even glance back, struggling slightly under the weight of the papers but carrying on with surprising determination. "Let's get this paperwork sorted, yeah?" she said, her cheerful tone almost teasing as she disappeared around another corner.
My eyes widened. "I'm sorry, what?"
She ignored my offer to help, pointing toward the big black double doors at the end of the hallway. "The highest bidder," she added cryptically, as though I'd immediately understand. And then I remembered the little pep talk I'd had with Alex. If that was his real name.
I sped ahead of her, reaching the door, only to find it locked. "Alice, what does that mean?"
She gasped suddenly. "Oh, shit! Check my back pocket," she said, turning slightly and poking her hips out toward me.
I snatched the keys, my mind spinning. The sheer number of keys on the ring made my head ache.
"The green one," she instructed, her voice brisk.
I found it after a moment of fumbling and slid it into the lock. As soon as the door creaked open, I was greeted by darkness.
"Clap," she said, stepping in.
"What?" I shot back.
"Just do it."
I clapped, confused, and the lights flickered on, illuminating a stunning office. Dark, sleek wood gleamed in the warm lighting, while massive bookshelves filled with leather-bound tomes lined the walls. Papers cluttered the desk in a chaotic heap.
"Well?" I asked, my excitement bubbling over. "Who was it?"
She carried her stack to the desk, dropping it with a loud snap. "We've got a lot of paperwork to get through before I can disclose that."
"Okay, fine, but when do I get paid?" I asked, excitement that I'd been trying to hide was letting loose now. The knot in my stomach was loosening.
"At the end of your date," she said casually.
"Date?" My heart skipped.
Alice rolled her eyes, sighing dramatically. "Did my husband not explain anything to you?"
I stared at her, shaking my head.
"This is why I don't let him recruit," she muttered, swiping her bangs off her forehead. "Alright, listen. There are one-week contracts—"
"Yeah, he mentioned that part, but for what?"
"Dates," she said simply. "Were you not listening before?"
"So… I have to stay with this person for a week?" My stomach tightened.
"Not necessarily," she said, flipping through some papers. I let out the breath I was holding, making an audible sound. She glance at me. "It depends on the bidder. Some just want one date, like yours. That's what they requested."
"And I get paid after that date?" I asked.
"Exactly. Yours truly will meet you wherever and hand you the money myself," she said with a bright smile.
"Wow," I muttered, trying to process.
Alice continued, her tone lilting, almost sing-song. "Some bidders just want arm candy—someone to bring to a fancy event, award shows, you know, that kind of thing. Others, well… some of our more established clients request intimate services."
Her words sent a prickle down my spine. "So… does this guy want arm candy, or…?"
Alice met my gaze, her expression calm but pointed. "We've still got paperwork to get through, honey. But yes, your bidder is requesting an intimate service."
I let out another sigh, my mind racing. Could I really go through with this? But half a million dollars?
I'm willing.
I sat back in the cozy chair in her sleek office, nervously playing with my dress, my fingers tracing the detailed roses stitched into the black lace fabric.
Alice glanced up, a playful smile on her face. "That dress is pretty on you, but I can get my hands on a gown that'll make him gag," she said with a wink, her tone brimming with confidence.
I assumed gag was a good thing.
Before I could respond, she flipped through a stack of papers. "Oh, by the way, who's your OB-GYN?"
I blinked at her, confused. "My OB-GYN?"
"We should've handled all the pre-screening beforehand, but my hubby said there was something about you. And boy, does he know his stuff—everyone was raving about you tonight," she said, her voice almost gleeful.
That last part caught me off guard. "Me?"
She nodded, eyes twinkling. "More than half of tonight's profits came because of you. There was quite the bidding war."
Heat crept up my face, my cheeks burning under her gaze.
Alice leaned back slightly, her expression softening. "My job's all about the logistics—the paperwork, the money, the girls," she said, giving me a knowing look. "So, who's your doc?"
"I go to Ginseng and Holce, down on Hartford Avenue," I replied quietly.
"Great choice. That place is awesome," Alice said with a grin. "Alright, I've got some connections. I'll pull your records, make sure you're all good."
Before I could fully process her words, she'd already picked up the landline, dialing with practiced ease. Her tone was upbeat, confident, as though she'd done this a thousand times.
I watched in disbelief as she actually managed to get someone on the line at this hour. These people must really have some serious connections.
After a brief back-and-forth, my full name mentioned among the rapid-fire exchange, Alice hung up the phone with a satisfied sigh. She swiped her short hair away from her forehead and turned her attention back to me.
"They're faxing over your records now," she said casually. "Holce mentioned you'd just had a PAP a couple of months ago. Have you been intimate with anyone since your last check-up?"
Her question made my brows furrow slightly.
"You look like an honest gal," she added with a shrug, clearly willing to take my word for whatever I said next.
The truth was, my love life had been more like a wasteland than anything else. I was open to the idea before the thing that happened with our mom. I hadn't been with anyone in years now. My high school sweetheart had been nice but awkward when it came to intimacy. And after that? A complete dry spell.
"I've been abstinent, basically," I replied.
"Basically?"
"Abstinent," I repeated firmly. "I haven't been intimate in a really long time."
Her face shifted into a look of pure astonishment. "Wow, girl. Well, you're in for a treat!"
"I didn't use my real name tonight with any of the patrons," I said hesitantly.
She nodded without missing a beat. "That's totally fine. A lot of the ladies here use some kind of moniker. What's yours?"
"Andrea," I replied, the name feeling foreign and wrong on my tongue. Dirty, almost.
"Perfect!" she said loudly, her enthusiasm catching me off guard. Her fax machine began to beep and whir, spitting out papers with a mechanical groan. She leaned over it, tapping her perfectly manicured nails on the machine. "C'mon, old gal," she whispered, coaxing it along.
I watched her, my nerves jangling. "So… can I know yet?"
"Hm?" she said absently at first, flipping through the freshly printed pages. She tapped the edges against her desk to align them, her eyes skimming the text before feeding the sheets into a scanner. "Oh, right, yes."
She got up from her chair, moving to stand in front of the desk. "Okay, here's the deal. Normal protocol is pretty straightforward—the clients leave after bidding wars, and then we hand the selected person one of these after deliberations." She held up a pristine, gold-embossed envelope. "Inside are all the details about the date."
I nodded, still feeling out of my depth.
"But," she continued with a wry smile, "since you're new, I figured, what the hell? May as well give you a little behind-the-scenes peek. You don't strike me as someone planning to make this a regular thing."
She wasn't wrong. I nodded again.
"Well," she began, her smile widening, "we had two very handsome gentlemen and a couple arguing for over thirty minutes about who was going to win you."
I blinked, her words leaving me completely speechless. A couple? Like a married couple? What the actual fuck.
"That is," she added, pausing for effect, "until Mr. Masen stepped in and shut it down with an offer we haven't seen in a while."
The name didn't ring a bell, and I racked my brain, trying—and failing—to recall anyone by that name.
"Usually, he bids on Sage," she continued, her tone dripping with amusement. "So we were all surprised, to say the least. But after seeing you in person, well," she gave me a knowing smile, "I wasn't surprised at all."
I swallowed hard, unsure of what to say.
"He's aristocratic, in a way," she said, her voice softening. "Lots of money to burn, and he knows exactly how to make an impression."
I couldn't help but feel like I was caught in a surreal dream. Whatever I'd expected tonight, it hadn't been this. My mind drifted back to earlier at the event. A gorgeous man named Edward had introduced himself, just before that bitchy brunette had yanked him away.
Was that him?
Holy shit.
I didn't even have to knock her out—I'd straight up taken her client. The thought left a satisfying zing in my chest.
"When's the date?" I asked, snapping back to the moment.
"Tomorrow," she said, her voice giddy with excitement. "And I have a feeling he's going to love you."
"Tomorrow?" I repeated, the word ringing in my ears.
"Is that an issue?"
"I—" My thoughts spiraled immediately to Seth, guilt creeping over me like a shadow. "I just need to sort out my schedule, but I can make it work."
Damn it. That meant enlisting Jacob's help again. One more night.
"Alrighty, so it's settled." She handed me the pristine envelope, its weight feeling much heavier than it should. "Details, address, everything you need is inside. You're free to go, my little money maker."
I took the envelope with trembling hands, the glossy surface smooth beneath my fingers. With a nod of thanks, I turned and made my way out, each step feeling surreal.
My mind raced as I left that maze of a building, not before heading back to my room to change and grab my things, clutching the envelope tightly. Whatever this night had started as, it was shaping up to be far more than I'd bargained for.
Tomorrow was going to change everything. I wouldn't dare look at the envelope I was handed until I was in the comfort and sanctity of my bedroom. Alone.
..
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Hope you enjoy your day, stay safe! Thank you for reading, and farewell until the next chapter...
-A