I frowned. "Who could that be?"
Erin shrugged. "Any number of men actually."
"Like who?"
"The mayor, a judge, someone on Wall Street."
"They all come here?"
Erin moved past me and knocked on Carla's door. "Yes."
"Wow. What should I wear?"
"Well, we wear lingerie, but since you're only serving the drinks, I'll find you something to wear." Carla opened her door, and Erin told her what was going on before she turned to me again. "Go tell the other girls, and I'll get you something to change into."
I did just that, telling Leanne, Clarissa, Tifarah, and Krissy, who had recently joined the others, what Madam had told me. Then I went back to Erin's room. Her door was open, and I entered. She had a little black dress on her bed. "Is that for me?" I pointed at the dress.
She looked up from her mirror where she was touching up her makeup. "Yes. It should fit you."
"Where did you get it?"
"I was wearing it the night Madam's men …" I waited for her to continue, but instead, she said, "Go get dressed. You don't want to be late."
I gave a quick nod, grabbed the dress off of the bed, and went to my room. After slipping it on, I stared in the mirror, wondering what I should do with my blonde hair. Even with Tifarah trimming it over the years, it was still long and to the back of my knees.
I decided to leave it down.
Slipping on the black flats that I wore all the time, I left my bedroom to go to the main floor. The girls were all waiting in various colored bra and panties, and it looked as though their hair and makeup had been refreshed. They all stood in a line facing the elevator, waiting.
My gaze met Erin's, and she nudged her head toward the coffee table, where a glass bottle with amber liquid sat on a black tray next to two glasses. I picked up the tray and mouthed, "Thank you," just as the sound of heels came from the stairs two floors up. I moved to join the line of girls. Once Madam was on the main level, she walked to each girl as though she was inspecting them, her hands behind her back. Then she made it to me.
"Where did you get this?" She flicked the spaghetti strap of the dress.
I swallowed. "Erin, Madam."
Madam looked over at Erin and then back at me. "Very well."
The elevator dinged, and my heart started to beat faster in my chest. I wasn't sure why. All I would be doing would be sticking out the tray for the person to grab his scotch. I wasn't even going to utter a word, yet I felt as though I was going to pass out. It was my first time ever seeing a client, and when he stepped out of the elevator, he wasn't alone.
A younger version of him followed behind him.
A younger version that was maybe my age.
A younger version that made my belly flip and the tray in my hand shake.
I was unable to take my gaze off the younger version, starting with the way his dark brown hair was a little long and fluffed in some haphazard way, to his suit that encased his body, to his eyes as they met mine. I couldn't tell what color they were, but I wanted to get lost in them. It was the first time I'd seen a boy around my age in five years. I'd seen boys before when I would go to the park, but I'd only spent my time feeding the ducks and enjoying the sunshine. Now that I'd read a few romance novels, I knew there was more out there. I wanted to find someone to love me.
"Frank," Madam greeted, opening her arms as she walked toward him. "It's so good to see you."
They hugged, and Frank replied, "You too, Saffron. It's been a while."
"Yes, but all is well here. This must be Frank Jr." She hugged him too, and I smiled. Frank Jr.—now I knew his name.
"Hello," Frank Jr. replied.
Madam pulled back. "We've actually met before, but it's been several years. You've grown into quite the fine young man."
I'd never seen Madam be so kind.
"He has," Frank replied and clapped Frank Jr. on the back.
"Here." Madam reached for the scotch on my tray and took both glasses. She turned and handed both Franks a glass. "Something for you to sip on while you decide."
Decide what? I wondered to myself.
Frank Jr. waved off the scotch. "No, thank you."
Madam smiled. "Oh, come on. It's your birthday."
"I'm more of a vodka guy."
Madam snapped her fingers at me, and I took that to mean I should get vodka for Frank Jr. I had no idea what vodka was, but when I rushed over to where the liquor was, a bottle was labeled Grey Goose Vodka. I poured some into an empty glass, and when I turned around to walk back, Frank Jr's gaze was on me. My face heated, and I looked down at the floor, not able to return his stare. Why was he staring at me?
I handed him his drink, my gaze on the gray wood floor.
"Thank you," he whispered, and it caused me to look up at him. He had blue eyes like the ocean in Hawaii that I'd dreamed about numerous times.
"You're welcome," I whispered back.
I stepped back in line, not knowing what else to do. I did notice that Frank Jr. didn't drink any of the vodka, and I wondered why. Did I make a mistake? I hoped not, because that would make Madam upset, and with my luck, she'd lock me in my room for six months.
"Now, son"—Frank squeezed Frank Jr's shoulder—"tonight, you can have any one of these ladies that you want. More than one if you’d like."
My heart, which had finally returned to its regular beat, felt as though it was cracking in my chest as I listened to what Frank said. Of course, that was why they were here.
"I told you I wasn't a virgin," Frank Jr. said in a low voice.
Frank chuckled. "That may be, but any one of these ladies will make sure you're well taken care of. You might learn some things. It's your birthday, enjoy it."
Frank Jr. replied, his voice still low, "Whores aren't my thing."
"These are the finest ones around, son. You'll be in safe hands. Take your pick, and then I can pick mine."
"And if I don't?" Frank Jr. asked.
"Then you'll piss me off," Frank stated, giving Frank Jr. a stern look.
"I can assure you," Madam cut in, "all of my girls are clean and well trained. They aren't like high school girls." She chuckled.
Frank Jr. looked at his father another moment and then stepped toward the line of girls. He still hadn't taken a sip of the vodka in his hand, and that made me nervous. I wasn't sure what Madam would do to me if Frank Jr. asked for something else. Was Grey Goose not a good brand?
Just like Madam had done not ten minutes prior, Frank Jr. walked by each girl, looking them up and down from their heads to their feet and back up. When he got to the end, I expected him to walk back down the line because he hadn't made a decision yet. Instead, he stopped in front of me, looking back at Frank and Madam. "I choose her," he said.
My eyes widened as Madam said in a raised voice, "Zell isn't one of the girls."
"She's not?" Frank Jr. questioned and turned his head to look at me.
I lowered my gaze while I waited for Madam to respond. I expected her to say something about me being her daughter, and therefore, off-limits. Instead, she said, "She's never been with a man before. She wouldn't know what to do. Pick one of the others. They will show you a good time."