“I don’t understand what this has to do with me,” I insist. “You think I have a product or service for sale?”
“Perhaps,” she continues with that tranquil smile.
You’d think we were discussing art or literature. Not like a book club but something at another level. I don’t have to know designers to recognize expensive shoes and a gauzy blouse so fine it could be early morning mist.
“And you’re trying to find girls who are virgins?” I really need her to spell this out for me.
“For you, specifically,” she clarifies.
Me. My virginity. She wants my virginity. I swallow hard. The dorm room I share with Heidi, who’s always “hanging with friends,” seems smaller all of the sudden. I lift my foot, needing to cross my legs and press my thighs together tightly. No, that would be all but admitting I fit the bill. I put my foot flat on the floor again.
Then what? What if I say no? Or worse, what if I say yes? The urge to move is overwhelming, and I have to fight to keep both nonskid socks planted firmly on the worn vinyl tile.
I run my fingers over the right temple of my glasses, smoothing out my hair. Nina has a nice, layered, style that must have cost her what I spend all year with the cosmetology students working their practice hours. Of course, I always end up with an uneven cut and a halo of new growth that sticks out like fine needles on a cactus.
It’s never made much sense to me to spend that much on appearance. My motto is I code, therefore I eat. Which means I spend a lot of time in front of a computer screen, learning how to improve my skills—by myself. Who’s going to see me?
“Jasmine…”
She’s still waiting for an answer, and I’m trying not to squirm. Is it that obvious? Can she tell I was the one without anyone to go to the prom? Not that I’d have the money for a dress even if I had a date.
“I understand it’s a very personal question.” Nina glances at my narrow bed. It’s covered with a boring, institutional bedspread and a lap desk I resort to when sitting in my chair starts hurting my lower back. “If you’re not, continuing this conversation would be fruitless.”
I push my glasses up my nose from the bridge of the dark frames. “Let’s say we continue the conversation…” Which is the only way I can confirm without actually admitting it to this amazing woman. Otherwise, I’d sound utterly pathetic. “Are you trying to make me into a p-prostitute?” I finish in a whisper. Obviously, she didn’t take a good look at me, because if I had to make a living attracting men, I’d starve to death.
“Absolutely not.” Her smile grows deeper, and she lowers her gaze, showing off the amazing blend of eyeshadow colors on her eyelids. “There are certain people who find themselves in a unique situation. They haven’t found someone to share themselves with and, at a certain age, that gets to be a burden.”
“I get it.” I nod. It’s hella embarrassing to still be a virgin in your twenties.
“Some of these young ladies can see the advantage in considering their virginity a commodity. One that will fetch a tidy sum.”
I’ve seen too many old movies. All I can imagine is a street corner at night, clothes one size too small, and what Heidi calls hooker heels. The one time I tried on her shoes while she was out, I nearly twisted my ankle. “So, it is—”
“No.” She isn’t dodging the question; her tone is definite. “This takes a one-time commitment of three days, a long weekend, with a man willing to pay a high price for the privilege of having your body.”
Heat rushes up to my face. Now I want to chew on my thumbnail. Maybe she didn’t notice, but I’m all mouth, boob, and leg. The rest of me could use work. A lot of work. I don’t see a man paying all that much for the privilege of having my body.
“This is discreet,” she assures me. “We do an extensive check to make sure the ladies we approach aren’t oversharing about their private lives. Everyone has a future to consider and we make it a point to keep this out of your history.”
I could easily have every spotlight on me right now. Although I’m wearing my college T-Shirt and some warm-ups that cover me completely, I still feel exposed. How could she think I’d do this? Why would she come to me, of all people? She wouldn’t. Nobody in their right mind would do this anyway. I give her a narrow-eyed glare. “This is a prank, right?” I nod, coming to the only practical conclusion my brain will allow. “Did Heidi put you up to this? What sorority are you pledging?”
“No prank.” She chuckles. “And I assure you I’m not with any sorority.”
If she’s lying, she has to be a pro. How did I end up in this situation? “You’ve got the wrong person, Nina.” If that’s even her name. “I could never do...what you’re suggesting.”
She gives a delicate sigh and opens a purse that could hold little more than a cell phone and a lipstick. “I don’t normally do this.” She hands me a business card in the most delicate pastel pink I’ve ever seen. “I’m going to leave you my number, in case you change your mind.”
“I won’t.” I scrunch back, unable to even touch the card.
Unperturbed, she swivels and places it on the lap desk. “I’m only doing so because the person who recommended you insisted I had to contact you today.”
I plop back, making the old chair squeak in protest. “Someone recommended me?”
“That’s how we find most of our candidates.” Her lips twitch. “As you can imagine, finding a virgin of legal age is rare.”
“True,” I mumble. Great, now I’m a unicorn.
“When I didn’t reach you, I immediately arranged a flight.”
The words sink in. “Wait, you booked a flight to come find me because I didn’t answer a call?”
“It’s hard enough to make our candidates understand the offer. Imagine what would happen if I had to leave a voice mail.”
“Oh goodness.”
“Besides, it wasn’t much of an issue. I don’t fly commercial.” She winks and heads to the door. “You have the rest of the day to consider the offer. But I hope I hear from you later.” She opens the door long enough for me to catch a glimpse of a man with a profile that could have been carved from ice. He stands taller than Nina, strong arms crossed in front of him. He steps aside to let Nina pass, then the door closes, and my little world goes back to normal. And, right now, normal seems pretty damn boring.
Did that really happen? Maybe Heidi was smoking something, and I’m in a drug-induced dream. My gaze goes from the chair where Nina was sitting to the card she left me. I pick it up by the edges, as if it could suddenly turn into something that bites. Checking front and back, the only thing I find is a ten-digit number, nothing else.
Well, I may be broke, but I should be good until the end of the semester. We’re nearly there already, and the university should have my financial aid issue straightened out. That should keep me going for a while. Hopefully, by then, the world will be back to normal.
With that in mind, I walk over to the wastebasket and spread my fingers, releasing the card.
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