“Talent,” I barely whisper.
He kisses the softest part below my ear and says, “Call me tonight or I’m coming back.”
I soak in the bathtub long after the water freezes and the tips of my fingers prune, replaying the encounter with Talent over and over in my head. The last twenty-four hours feel like they happened to a stranger, because nothing this good happened for me. I’m split down the middle, unable to accept that someone as influential as Talent Ridge could fall for someone like me, but realizing his affection is undeniable.
His kiss isn’t the kiss you get from someone who’s only interested in sex. His touch is too caressing and gentle to be forced, and his eyes always have an edge to them, like he is afraid that I will outrun him one day.
I don’t know how to be the person he needs. After everything Inez has done for me, abandoning my obligation to her is out of the question. She rescued me from truck stops and alleys and set me up to succeed in the only way she knew how. Turning in a two-week notice of resignation isn’t an option when I owe my entire life to the ringleader of the largest prostitution ring in California. Inez is my boss, but she’s also the closest person I have to family.
Where would I be without her?
On some dirty stage, dancing for dollar bills?
Stuck with someone like Marty?
Or dead like Cricket?
When my mom died, she took my chance at a normal life with her and I accepted my fate because what other choice did I have? I was sixteen with no family, nowhere to go, and I was on the run from a system that would make the strip club look like Disneyland. Armed with the only lesson Cricket had ever taught me, I used my body to get by. After a few months on the streets, fantasies of an education or a life outside my mom’s legacy became nothing more than an afterthought.
I’ve never stepped on stage and danced for sweaty dollar bills. No man has owned me because I couldn’t support myself. I’ve never numbed my feelings with drugs. And I won’t ever be the person who dies alone in a strip club.
I deal with crisp hundreds, and I have enough cash stashed to ensure I never sleep in the back of a car again. Utter solitude numbs me without the need for drugs, and I’ll likely die alone someday, but it won’t be in a dirty club.
Despite the lengths I’ve gone to make sure my life is different than Cricket’s, the only thing I’ve done is become the fancier version of her. While I’ve kept my head down, the universe has gone on without me. Ten years have passed since the day Cricket died, and eight years have passed since Inez showed me a brand-new way. Not once since I chose this life have I considered making a real change.
Not until Talent Ridge forced himself into my life and Camilla put a bunch of paintings on the walls.
Now I’m so entangled in the lifestyle, I don’t know how to get out.
Or if I want to.
Old and new emotions have sabotaged the illusion of contentment, and I don’t know if all this sensation is worth it.
To get to Talent, I have to wade through a lot of repressed trauma to resemble anyone human enough to justify his unconditional affection. It would involve coming to terms with Cricket and admitting how far I’ve gone in my endeavor to not be like her. Talent deserves to know the whole story, beginning, middle, and present. And he has to know that after the life I’ve experienced, I’ll always be a work in progress.
It would be easier to continue my work with Hush, and maybe take over one day like Inez wants. The slut in me runs deeper than the girlfriend-type, and the slut will fuck up the girlfriend if I let her.
I dry off after my bath and dress in comfortable clothes until I have to get ready to head over to Inez’s. My collection of ready-to-use burner phones is kept in the bottom drawer of my dresser. I pick one out of the bunch and quickly activate it, punching in Inez’s number.
She picks up right away and immediately triggers my defensives. “Cara, I’ve been waiting for you to call.”
Sitting down at my vanity, I don’t waste my breath and ask what’s wrong. Because something is wrong. Instead, I keep my fucking mouth shut and wait for Inez to give me any information she can over the phone before I come up with a way to see her in person.
“I’m sorry to do this, tesora, but you can’t come over tonight.” Her voice is unwavering and stern. “You’ve always been a good listener, Cara. Please, pay extra attention to what I’m telling you now. Your appointments are canceled until further notice. All aspects of Hush will operate like normal. We’re … remodeling. No need for you to come by until I say so.”
I hold my palm to my chest to keep my heart from breaking out of my chest.
“Everything will be okay. These things happen sometimes, but I’m figuring it out, Cara.” She exhales and says, “You are my most important thing. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I say.
Hush is in trouble and she wants me to stay away until it’s resolved.
I never assumed we were untouchable, but a large percentage of our clientele consists of government politicians, law enforcement personnel, and prominent businessmen and women, and I assumed that came with a level of protection. Consensual sex work and pandering are victimless crimes, but if Hush is being investigated and someone on our clientele roster couldn’t stop it, Inez is facing money laundering, tax evasion, and fraud charges. The trickle-down effects of such implications would be devastating.
If the identity of our clients got out, Grand Haven would never recover.
And then she tells me everything I need to know. “If you run into Naomi, don’t say a word.”
Instead of breaking the phone into a million shards of plastic, I drop it into the empty bathtub and run the water.
Inez specifically said that aside from me, Hush will operate like normal. If we suddenly closed the spa, it would only warrant unwanted attention from our legitimate clients and staff. But if we ordered our girls to cancel their dates until this blows over, not only would we frighten our not-so-legal clients who trust Hush not to expose them, but Hush may never recover from the suspicion.
When the time arrives for Camilla to go on her date, I am the epitome of control and order.
“He has one hour with you, Camilla. Sixty minutes. When the hour’s up, leave. No exceptions.” I activated two more phones after I drowned the first in the bathtub. Handing one over to Camilla, I say, “Don’t call me unless it’s an emergency.”
She’s a goddess in black leather pants and a satin tank top, but her hands tremble and her bottom lip quivers. “I’m nervous.”
“Then don’t go,” I say strictly. “This won’t work if you’re not committed. Don’t waste your time or his.”
Camilla takes the phone from me and slides it into her clutch. In the blink of an eye, she straightens her posture and adopts an indifferent attitude. “How many times do I have to tell you I can do this, Lydia?”
“Then stop second-guessing yourself.”
“I haven’t second-guessed myself once.” She turns toward the door to leave. The fragrant aroma of her perfume lingers in the air between us. “I was only being honest.”
When she leaves, I note the time on the clock and calculate when to expect her home. I don’t have a relationship with other escorts at Hush because I don’t want to understand why they choose this life or to bond over our reasons. This isn’t a sisterhood. It’s a means to an end. Peddling myself to men across the city is one thing, but to send Camilla off to do it leaves me uneasy.