But Maria shook her head, looking thoughtful.
“Like I said, the Club is extremely choosy about whom it selects,” she said evenly. “Not everyone is a fit for this position, we have far more applicants than openings. But let’s talk about you,” she began again. “So Annie, do you understand what escorting is?” she asked.
I nodded again.
“Yes, going out on dates,” I said, biting my lip. “Why, is there something more?”
The woman paused for a moment.
“Well, what do you do when you go out on dates?” she asked delicately, prompting me. “How do you and your date spend your time? How does he make you feel wanted, how do you enjoy yourselves?”
And I flushed then because the truth is I’ve only barely gone out with boys. I get asked out, but I don’t have time because my scholarship depends on keeping a 3.0 GPA, so I usually have my nose buried in the books, deathly afraid to fall below that threshold. And besides, the guys at school are really, really awkward. One mumbled when he asked me out, stuttering and shuffling his feet the entire time. Another was nice, except he talked non-stop about his pet bird, a cockatiel that he was keeping illegally in his dorm room. I literally didn’t know what to say when he asked my opinion on different types of bird food, pellets versus seeds. So while yes, I’d technically been out a couple times, my experiences hardly seemed normal. But back to Maria’s question.
“Well, guys sometimes ask me out for coffee,” I said tentatively. No need to get into the gory details of my dating life, it wasn’t appropriate.
“And?” probed the woman, pen poised, ready to write.
“And we study?” I asked helplessly. “We grab double espressos and study together, and go to class afterwards.”
The woman cocked her head at me.
“No dinner, no movies?” she asked. “Nothing else?”
“No nothing,” I confirmed. “Dinner in NYC can cost thirty bucks a person, and that’s before tax and tip. Plus, the price of movie tickets has also skyrocketed, it’s almost twenty bucks if you go to the AMC in Union Square. So dating is expensive here, and we’re all students,” I said slowly. I was almost apologizing, although I couldn’t understand why. Living in New York isn’t free, and most of my friends were in the same boat, living off ramen noodles, trying to cut corners and scrimp. It was a way of life.
“Coffee is a nice treat for us,” I tried to clarify, “And everyone’s trying to pay their bills, so we keep it simple.”
Maria was scribbling away now, taking notes although her expression didn’t give much away.
“But is there anything after coffee?” she asked mildly. “Anything come to mind?” she said, tapping her pen on the notebook.
I watched, mesmerized, the motion of her pen like a metronome, drawing me into a trance. What could she possibly want? What was she fishing for? But I gave up. There really wasn’t anything except coffee at a café, maybe some pizza if we were feeling hungry and extravagant.
“I’m so sorry,” I apologized, “I don’t know what to tell you because that’s what a date is for me. I know some folks do a lot more, but I’m kind of a bookworm and don’t get out much.” Again, the apologies were gushing from my lips, as if I were deficient in some way. Stop! I scolded myself. No reason to apologize, you’re a student, you can’t be expected to go to Michelin-starred restaurants.
But the dark-haired woman merely smiled gently.
“No, it’s no problem Annie,” she said. “But it means I need to be totally upfront with you. Escorting for the club means sex,” she said. “It means that you’ll be having sex with one of our members.”
I turned beet red at that. Oh my god, it meant that things were going to get physical? I knew that, I’d read somewhere in the papers that “escorting” was just a nice term for “a date with sex afterwards.” But still, having it stated so clearly made me gulp.
But I didn’t want Maria to know that I was surprised, I needed this job too badly. So instead, I pretended I was cool with it.
“Oh, I knew that,” I said quickly. “I was expecting that.”
Maria’s brows shot up.
“You were?” she said gently. “It’s okay if you weren’t. We just want our girls to be ready for what’s coming.”
And I took a deep breath.
“I’m ready,” I said in as steady of a voice that I could manage. “I’m more than ready.”
Understanding shone in Maria’s eyes.
“I know you are Annie, but it’s my job to do the vetting, so just relax okay? Relax and answer each question truthfully, and we’ll be fine. I’ll be asking you a bunch of different questions, and just do your best, there are no right or wrong answers.”
I didn’t know what to think, my mind still whirling, thoughts a mess. And frankly, there was no time, the conversation was so free-wheeling and rapid that I just tried to be honest. We covered all sorts of subjects, from my dating history (almost nothing), to my sex life (absolutely nothing), to anyone I was seeing at the moment (also a no).
“So you don’t have a boyfriend, a husband, anyone special?” she asked quizzically.
I shook my head.
“No, like I said, I have a scholarship which requires that I maintain a certain GPA, so I study a lot,” I said, biting my lip. “I have to, I can’t stay at Hudson University otherwise, my parents could never afford the tuition.”
The dark-haired woman nodded again.
“It’s fine,” she said soothingly. “We just want to make sure you’re not too attached, that when the time comes to perform, you’re ready.”
What an odd use of the word “perform,” like I’d be put on display in some fashion or form. But I didn’t want to ask, not now, not before I got the job. So I answered her questions as honestly as I could, and finally after about half an hour, Maria closed her notebook, smiling warmly at me.
“Well, that’s all for now,” she said. “You’ve done great, Annie, really great, and I think this might work out for us. I’ll get back to you soon with a final decision, okay? But is there anything I can answer for you in the meantime?”
And I took a deep breath because there was something that I had to know, that was of paramount importance.
“I know I’m not supposed to ask this until after I get the job,” I said slowly, looking down, “And that’s a big if, I know. But can I ask how much each girl is paid?” I said in a rush, cheeks flushing, looking down, I was so embarrassed. “I really need the money,” I mumbled, “and a little extra would help a lot.”
Surprisingly, Maria wasn’t fazed at all.
“Of course,” she said. “I can’t give you a set price because we don’t pay by the hour, exactly. Instead, there’s an auction system that determines the amount you’ll ultimately be rewarded.”
“An auction?” I asked, shaking my head, confused. “How does that work?”
And the middle-aged woman smiled at me again, no condescension in her eyes.
“The way auctions usually do,” she said. “The members of the club bid for you, for your time, and then the highest bidder wins.”
I gasped. I was going up for auction? In front of men? Unnamed buyers were going to bid on me, I was the product? There was no reason to be so surprised, she’d hinted at it the entire conversation with her references to “performing” and “auditions.” But to hear it was a shock, a dose of hard-nosed reality. Because it was really happening. If I got the job, I would stand on a stage and literally be auctioned to a rich man, a buyer would bid for my time and my body.
And I shivered unexpectedly then, but it was a warm shudder, one that penetrated to the depths of my soul. The thought of an auction should have chilled me, should have sent ice water down my spine, but instead I was tingly and hot, a rush of anticipation making me light up inside. There was something so illicit about it, so wrong and yet so excitingly taboo that I was actually looking forward to Nevada if I was selected. But there was something that was still unspoken, and I had t
o ask.
“I just wanted to know, is there a floor price?” I pressed hesitantly. “Maybe five hundred dollars, something like that?” I hoped against hope that five hundred was the minimum bid. Five hundred was a lot to me, a month of rent, and to think that I might be able to make that in one go made me bite my lip. It would mean so much to me, to my parents, it’d help relieve the financial stress we were going through, help pay our mortgage for one more month.
But Maria smiled gently at me.
“The Club is generous,” she said. “No matter what happens, if you make the trip out to Nevada the Club will pay you ten thousand dollars for your time.”
My mouth dropped open then, breath whooshing out of my chest in a gasp. Because that was more money than I’d dreamt of, more than I’d ever had in my whole life. Ten thousand dollars went beyond one mortgage payment, one more month of security. Ten thousand was enough to provide a substantial cushion, Tina and Carl could breathe easier, buy health insurance, maybe I could even persuade my mom to go to IT classes like we’d talked about, help her re-train for a new job.
So I nodded, trying not to look too grateful.
“Thank you, that’s really reassuring,” I murmured, flushing despite myself. “I’d appreciate that a lot.”
And Maria let out a throaty chuckle then, standing up.
“I think you’ll enjoy working for the Club,” she said, towering over me in her heels. “Most girls who go love their time there,” she added cryptically. “Now if you’ll excuse me, Annie, it’s been a pleasure meeting you,” she said with a genuine smile, extending her hand.
And I tried to be professional, to act like this was your average interview, although there could be nothing further from the truth.
“Likewise,” I said, enunciating my words, lifting my chin. “Thank you for taking the time to meet me.”
And just like that, I found myself in the elevator once more, whisked back to the brightness of day, people bustling around me like usual. But this was no average afternoon. My world had been rocked. I’d just interviewed for a job as an escort, where I’d be auctioned to a nameless man. I’d wear what he wanted, eat his food and do his bidding, in bed and out. But instead of feeling scared, or dirty, or wrong, instead, I wanted the job. Because yes, I needed the financial security, my family needed it, but even more, I was curious. Simply said, I wanted to explore, to meet the members of this discreet group of very wealthy men, and I was prepared to offer myself … for a price of course.
CHAPTER TWO
Annie
The desert breeze hit my face as I stopped off the plane. It was amazing, flying private. I’d totally been expecting a ticket in economy, sitting in the back row next to the bathrooms, and would have been grateful all the same for the free flight. But instead, the Club had put me up on a private jet, and it’d been a magnificent experience. We’d soared into the skies, and I’d had a clear view of the city below me, the tall skyscrapers, the cars running to and fro, JFK bustling as always.
But that was in my past. I was now Annie James, a seductive, sexy girl out to fetch the highest price she could at auction. Because when Maria had called me with the news of my acceptance, I’d gasped into the phone.
“Really? Oh my god, thank you,” I’d rushed, hand shaking as I held the receiver. My knees went weak, my entire body like jello because the situation was in crisis mode now. My dad had been laid off last week, and suddenly there was no money coming in at all. There were only bills to pay and Tina and Carl were jittery with panic.
“We’ll be fine,” my mom assured me on the phone, although her voice wavered a bit. “Absolutely fine.”
“Don’t worry your pretty little head,” growled my dad. “We’ll figure something out.”
And just like my mom, I could hear the fear in his voice although he tried to sound strong, like a provider. Because they couldn’t hold out long. Unless my dad found something else stat, they’d be evicted soon, out on the streets, or even worse, in a shelter. And I’ve heard that shelters are no place for the elderly. They’re dangerous, there are curfews, a lot of crimes are committed within shelters because the people are so desperate.
Not to mention the blow to my parents’ pride. The Jameses, living in government housing? My mom’s soul would wilt, my dad would become a broken, beaten man after thirty years of working hard. So I spoke then about my potential job opportunity.
"I'm waiting to hear back from a company in Nevada,” I said quickly. “If I get the position, they’ll be paying me well, really well, and I’ll be able to help you guys.”
“Oh no, honey,” said my mom immediately. “We can’t take anything from you.”
But I was just as quick with a reply.
“Mom, I don’t have the job yet so I can’t say for sure. But you guys spent eighteen years raising me, paying for diapers, food, everything, even helping with my college tuition, so it’s fine. I want to help, Mom, I want to contribute.”
But Tina was still opposed.
“No honey, we want to give you a solid launch in life, and taking our baby daughter’s summer earnings isn’t part of the plan. Me and your dad, we’ll figure it out, isn’t that right Carl?”
My dad’s voice was gruff on the line too.
“Don’t worry Anna Banana, don’t worry about your mom and me, we’ve got savings.”
But I shook my head silently. They were already drawing from their savings and it’d disappear fast, the small pot evaporating into thin air in a matter of weeks. So I cleared my throat again.
“No trust me,” I said, keeping my voice even. “If I get the job this summer, I’ll be able to help … maybe even a lot,” I added. The minimum was the ten thousand stipend that the Club would pay even if I never made it to auction. But right now, I would have been grateful for two thousand, or even one. That’s how much of a bind we were in.
“Well, let us know honey,” said my mom in a soft voice. “Let’s not count our chickens before they hatch, let us know.”
And with that, we’d hung up, me taking a deep breath, hoping against hope that Maria would call soon. But the middle-aged woman did and I accepted before she finished her offer.
“Yes, yes,” I said quickly, rushing my words. “I’ll take it.”
And Maria was silent for a moment.
“But don’t you want to hear the terms?” she asked, surprise in her voice. “All the stipulations and details?”
I paused for a moment. I needed to sound a little more normal, a little less desperate, so I took another deep breath.
“Yes, sorry, I was just a little excited. If you could tell me the details, I’d be ever so grateful.”
And Maria let out a throaty chuckle then.
“Well, for starters, the Club has upped its honorarium. The stipend for coming to Nevada is now twenty thousand dollars.”
I almost choked then, my throat going dry.
“I’m sorry,” I rasped. “But that means twenty thousand dollars for making the trip? Even if I’m never … never …?”
And Maria confirmed it.
“Yes, even if you’re never sold, even if you never go up on the block, you will receive twenty thousand dollars for your time.”
And I literally slid to the floor then. My knees gave way and with a slow slump and then a thunk, I was on the floor in my dorm room, knees splayed, body limp.
“Annie? Annie, you still there?” came Maria’s voice from far away.
And I managed to shake myself from my stupor.
“Yes, so sorry, I was just … surprised, that’s all,” I managed in a shaky voice.
And the other woman’s laugh rang out, a knowing chuckle.
“It’s a nice chunk of change for a young woman,” she said, “Twenty thousand will go a long ways, I understand how you feel.”
Twenty thousand? She couldn’t possibly, she couldn’t possibly understand how this would prevent my parents from going on food stamps, how it’d help us all breathe easier, sleep better at
night. It was a safety net, and a strong one at that, one that would open doors, help us out of the squeeze we were in. So I nodded silently, murmuring, “Yes, thank you, it’s gonna make a huge difference.”
And Maria chuckled throatily again.
“No worries, but let me give you some of the details,” she continued. And I listened, but the rest of her words ran like water off a duck’s back. I heard something about a flight, remembering to bring my ID, the usual. But one item caught my ear.
“No clothes?” I asked, dumbfounded. “I don’t need to bring clothes to Nevada?”
And Maria chuckled again.
“Of course you need to bring clothes, you need something to wear on the flight. But there’s no need to stress about your attire while you’re there. The Club will provide everything, from socks to formal wear.”
And I was dumbfounded then.
“How about swimsuits?” I asked. I’m a weird size, it’s not easy to find something that fit my girls while also accentuating my narrow waist. But Maria just laughed.
“All lingerie and personal wear will be provided,” she reiterated, “Even if you can’t buy off the rack, the Club has access to the best tailors, they can make something for you out of fabric if needed.”
And I gasped. Like couture? Wow, this really was beyond my wildest dreams, and my hand started trembling on the phone again. I was headed off to a brand new world, a world where there was help, people who jumped at your every command, people who did your every bidding. But I scolded myself then. Even if you’re pampered, you’re not really one of them, my inner voice said. You’ll never be one of them, you’re a poor girl from the wrong side of the tracks.
And that shook me back to the present. Because yes, even if I got gold star treatment, even if my every need was met while I was at the Club, it was all temporary, and I was still the hired help no matter what. I was being paid money for my time, I was an employee like everybody else, one that happened to be paid extraordinarily well, yes, but staff just the same. So I made myself exhale and get a grip. Stop it Annie, I told myself. This is a job, remember, just a job.
Virgin for Sale Page 2