My face got hot again, and I was certain I looked like a tomato. I couldn't believe that Madam had told Frank Jr. I was a virgin. I'd read about a virgin once. She met a guy with a helicopter and had weird sex with him. She seemed to like it, but that didn't mean I was ready for this handsome boy to know I was a virgin.
"Is that true?" Frank Jr. asked as he looked into my eyes. "Are you a virgin?" I nodded, not able to speak. He turned back to Madam and his father. "Then, yes, I want her."
"She's not even groomed," Madam stated to Frank.
"Son, why don't you pick someone else?"
"With all due respect, Father, you brought me here to, what was it? Become a man? Being a man is choosing who I want to sleep with, and I choose …" He paused for a moment. "Zell."
The tray I was still holding fell from my grasp and clattered onto the floor. Madam's gaze snapped to me, and my eyes widened before I quickly bent to pick it up. My heart was beating so fast in my chest that I was certain Frank Jr. could hear it. I kept my gaze on the floor, not able to look at anyone. I couldn't believe this was happening.
"Frank," Madam clipped.
I held my breath as I waited for Frank to reply.
"It's not like they're related, Saffron."
"But …" She hesitated.
"The boy wants who the boy wants."
"At least let me have her speak with the girls for a little training first."
"That won't be necessary," Frank Jr. stated. My eyes darted up to see that he was staring at me.
"Son—"
"A man can dominate the bedroom, Father. I don't need Zell to be trained. I can do it."
I swallowed and pinched myself to see if I was dreaming. I wasn't.
Everyone was silent, and all I could hear was the clock on the wall near the fireplace.
Tick tock …
Tick tock …
Tick tock …
"All right. It's your birthday, and I told you that you can have whoever you wanted. Which room should they use?" Frank asked Madam.
She sighed. "Follow me."
Frank Jr. turned and started to walk behind Madam. Krissy nudged me to follow, and I hurried behind them to the first room on the right. Madam opened the door, and Frank Jr. stepped inside. Just before I crossed the threshold, Madam grabbed my upper arm tightly.
"Don't embarrass me. Do you understand?"
I nodded.
"You do whatever he asks. I don't care if you don't know how or if it hurts. He is to be satisfied, and if he isn't, it will be your head."
I swallowed, knowing she meant it. After all, she’d gotten rid of Bev in a blink.
I'd finally gotten one over on my father.
As the limo drove the few blocks from our apartment to the brothel, I thought about how I could get out of the so-called birthday gift. I didn't want to have sex with some whore, and why my father thought it would be something I'd be into was beyond me. I decided I would pick a woman and then scroll Instagram for an hour while she moaned and moved the bed as though we were fucking. That would be what I'd pay her for—not actual sex. It would be a win-win for both of us.
Then I saw Zell.
My first thought was how in the world someone so young could end up as a prostitute already. And she wasn't only young, she was stunning and easily the prettiest girl I'd ever laid eyes on. She had this sweet, innocent look to her, and that confused me even more. Plus, I'd never seen someone with such long hair before.
And then I realized she was nervous.
Maybe she wasn't a whore like the women wearing next to nothing. She wasn't dressed like them, she had no makeup on, and her hair wasn't styled with curls—or styled at all. I didn't need some prostitute when I could have any girl at school give me head at the snap of my fingers, so I took a chance and chose her.
I smiled to myself as I sat on the end of the bed, and the door shut behind Zell. "You can relax."
Her azure eyes met mine. "I'm not nervous."
"Then, I'm the fucking King of England." I chuckled.
"You are?"
A smile slowly crept across my face as I was amused by her banter. "All right, maybe you aren't nervous." But she was. I could tell by the way she looked away from my gaze, the way she wrung her hands in front of her, and by the way she bit her bottom lip as though she was freaking out.
Zell didn't say anything, and so I said, "Take a seat. We aren't going to fuck."
Her gaze snapped back to mine again. "We aren't?"
I shook my head. "No, we're not."
She moved and got down on her knees in front of me. A moment flashed through my head of her reaching for my belt to release my dick. I did want that but not under these circumstances, even if it was an upscale brothel on the Upper East Side. I was attracted to Zell, and if she went to my school or I saw her at some party, I wouldn't hesitate to seal the deal with her.
"Please?" she begged. "We have to."
"No, we don't," I stated firmly.
Her bottom lip started to tremble, and she whispered, "Please?"
"Hey"—I cupped her cheek—"why are you going to cry?"
"Madam will …" she trailed off.
"Yeah?"
"She will be mad if I don't satisfy you."
"Satisfy me?" I chuckled. "Is that how you talk?"
"I don't understand."
I lowered my hand. "Well, understand this: we aren't sleeping together. You get a free pass. I won't tell Madam or whatever the fuck you call her that we didn't sleep together. I'll tell her that you satisfied me in every way possible, and then I will be gone. You'll never see me again."
"You're going to lie?"
"Of course, I am. I'm not some sick fuck that wants to take your virginity."
"Then what do we do?"
"First of all, stand the fuck up." She stood without hesitation. "Now, I don't know"—I shrugged—"braid your hair or something."
She reached behind her back, gathered her long blonde hair, and started to actually braid it.
"Are you serious?" I questioned.
"I thought this was what you wanted?"
I pulled out my phone. "What I want is for this hour or whatever to pass so I can get the fuck out of here and be done with this day. My father is crazy, and I'd much rather be partying with my friends. No offense."
"So, you don't want me to braid my hair?"
I stared at her for several moments. Was she for real? How was she not understanding that we were going to fake everything and the night be over?
"How old are you?" Even though she looked about my age, she had to be much younger—which freaked me out—because she was so naïve.
"Seventeen, almost eighteen."
I balked. "What school do you go to?"
"School?"
I nodded slightly. "Yeah, you know, where you have classes."
"Oh." She smiled, and it was the first time I saw a bit of happiness cross her face. "Erin teaches me."
"Erin? Who's Erin?"