“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll see you later on.”
Aisha soon learned that The Lynx was not all it portrayed itself to be. She could sense it. She didn’t know what the real deal was or who the owner was but the last few weeks she’d worked there, she began to notice how some of the girls were treated rather roughly. Whenever she asked Elisa about it, Elisa found some excuse to dismiss her suspicions. Some of the girls looked a little young. But Elisa managed to brush off Aisha’s curiosity by telling her that every girl at The Lynx had to be at least eighteen years old. Aisha dismissed the suspicious feelings she had about the Association time and time again. She told herself that if there was any illegal business going on then it wasn’t any of her business. She was there to make money and whatever else may have been going on, she wasn’t interested in it.
After she finished her shower, Aisha stood in front of the full length mirror and surveyed herself. All of her life she had been raised to be a ‘good girl.’ She was taught to carry herself like a lady at all times. Her father often emphasized to her while she was growing up the importance of respecting her own body. He told her that she should demand that any man who called themselves interested in her should respect her as well. To Aisha, her father represented all that she wanted to have in a man. Being raised by Christian parents, she spent more than half her life in and out of church. Every morning before she went off to school her father prayed with her. And every single Wednesday night and Sunday evening they attended bible study. She basically knew the bible like the back of her hand.
As she studied herself in the mirror, she felt ashamed of where she had allowed herself to be in life. She was going around lecturing Tameria about not going too far with Chase but look at her. Here she was leading a double life of her own, stripping for money. No matter how she tried to justify her actions, she felt at this moment that she was no better than the girls who danced around a pole in the strip clubs lining Brooks Road and Lamar Avenue. Maybe she hadn’t slept with anyone but she was still no better than a common whore, at least that’s what the face in the mirror called her. She shifted her eyes over her dressing room and they rested on the brown vial on the round table. Walking slowly from the mirror, she moved toward the nightstand and picked up the vial. Again, doing what she never thought she would do, she opened the top and inhaled the white substance up each of her nostrils before she proceeded to get dressed.
When she stood in front of the mirror this time, the shame she’d felt a few minutes earlier had disappeared. She felt relaxed, without a care in the world. She inhaled another hit of the powdery substance and smiled at the image in the mirror. She wore a strapless white halter top along with a sheer sarong that revealed her white thong underneath. Her twists were gathered up and held together by a white and silver band. The large silver diamond cut hoops glistened as they dangled from her ears. She lightly squirted Gucci Rush on each wrist and added a squirt at the base of her throat. Lastly, she placed her freshly pedicured feet into her white leather Minolo stilettos then placed her top coat over her outfit and proceeded down the back hall way that lead to the private elevator. Pulling out her elevator key and placing it in the key hole, she then pushed the button next to the word Private Suites.
By the time she made it to the Private Suites floor she was relaxed and confident in her talents. She wasn’t going to allow the devil to make her feel inadequate. Not tonight. As she walked along the corridor, she convinced herself that what she was doing wasn’t wrong. She wasn’t fornicating. She wasn’t stealing or robbing or hurting anybody. She was merely doing a job, using her talents to satisfy other people. And making money. She proudly strode to room 1066 and lightly tapped on the door. The voice on the other end invited her inside. Removing her top coat, Aisha responded to the gentleman on the other side by stepping inside. Another day and many more dollars..
CHAPTER 21
Chandler was glad when the Chief informed him that he wouldn’t have to go out of town for his next undercover assignment. This would give him more time to get closer to Aisha. It was hard trying to establish a relationship when he had to keep his unexplained whereabouts a secret and when he had to lie about the type of work he did. When he told Aisha he was a land developer, he understood that he was deceiving her. In the past, it hadn’t really mattered with the girls he had dated, but Aisha was different. For some reason, he didn’t want to lie to her. But right now, he had no choice. He had a job, a dangerous job at that. And if he wanted to maintain a sense of safety he had to keep everything confidential.
The assignment, the chief explained, called for him to play the part of an older gentleman with lots of money. He laughed at the description when the Chief told him he would be posing as a high powered company executive.
To aid his transformation to a wealthy gentleman, Chandler’s first stop was at an exclusive men’s store in Cordova, a small city on the outskirts of Memphis. He looked at some of the most expensive, top of the line clothing. He settled on two pair of Sean John slacks with coordinating shirts and blazers, three Armani suits and one Gucci linen slack set with shoes to match each of the outfits. Before leaving out of the store, he picked out a pair of three hundred and fifty dollar Versace sunglasses. He went back to the station and waited on one of his fellow officers to take him to his next destination-Hertz Car Rental where a black onyx Lexus LS 430 had been reserved for him in the name of Kyle Taylor, his latest undercover alias.
“Man, I wish I could get some of the assignments you get,” the young officer told him as he pulled into the rental car establishment.
“I’ve been at this for a couple of years. And I had to work hard to get where I am. You have to gain the trust of your superiors and show them that you can do the job. It’ll happen for you, if you really want to be an undercover cop. But it’s not all peaches and cream out here in these streets. And doing this can be more dangerous than patrolling the streets in your cruiser. So you think about it long and hard before you jump off into this area of law enforcement.”
“Thanks man,” the officer responded in an appreciative sounding voice, “I’ll be sure to take what you said to heart.”
Flashing his newly fabricated identification to the reservation clerk, Kyle walked out of the rental office with the keys to the luxury vehicle. After he picked up the SUV he looked at the next destination written on his list―3289 Riverside Drive. He pushed the navigation button in the middle of the vehicle console and entered the destination address into the system, listening as the mechanical voice gave him step by step directions to his destination. When he pulled up in front of the gated house, he exhaled loudly. “Wow, this Kyle Taylor definitely has it going on. I could get used to this kind of living for real,” he said to the mechanical voice. The house was a tri-level mansion resembling a medieval castle. The steps leading up to the house were marble and the porch stretched the length of the house. He pulled out the pouch inside his briefcase and saw the key marked with the address. Walking up the brick steps, Chandler turned the key and entered the 13,000 square foot dwelling. The foyer with its 20-feet ceiling was elegant and lead to a rounding double staircase with intricate wrought iron railings. On the main level to the left were the living room, dining room, gourmet kitchen and family room. To the right of the foyer he entered the huge master bedroom suite with vaulted ceilings and windows that extended from the floor to the ceiling. The master bath included a gigantic walk in closet, stand alone steam shower, sauna and a Jacuzzi. A separate whirlpool tub sat in the middle of the slate floor. Chandler checked out the other two levels of the house before he went outside and brought in his recent purchases. The home was furnished like an HGTV dream house and the landscaped grounds added even more class to the already dramatic home. For the next several weeks at least, this would be his residence. After searching through the fully stocked black and chrome sub-zero refrigerator, he pulled out all the fixings for a fresh deli style turkey and ham sandwich.
He toured the remaining floors of t
he house while he munched on his sandwich and gulped his soda. After looking over the entire house, he finally settled into the library and pulled out his briefcase to read about the details of his assignment.
The paper read, “The Lynx, a privately owned gentleman’s association is located on the outskirts of Memphis in the secluded Southwind area. Owner suspected of human trafficking of young girls, mostly whom are under age. , Girls suspected of being used as sexual slaves by clientele made up of some of the wealthiest men in the city and throughout the country.” Chandler continued to read while he lightly tapped the tip of his pen up and down on the cherry wood desk. “You are to portray one Kyle Taylor. Kyle is supposed to be a man in his early fifties who lives a secluded life on the downtown banks of the Mississippi. He runs a multi million dollar technology company. Kyle is a quiet but charming gentleman with an insatiable desire for beautiful women. We’ll have one of our inside guys set you up with the right person at The Lynx so you can become one of their VIP members. Kyle has mingled gray hair at the temples, a mustache and a neatly trimmed beard. He wears a Presidential Rolex, a gold diamond ring on his left index finger and a gold cluster on his right pinkie finger. You will find all of the necessary items needed to transform yourself into Kyle Taylor in the master suite.”
Chandler smiled as he finished reading the description of Kyle Taylor. He loved getting into character. Before deciding on law enforcement, he’d thought about becoming an actor but decided differently after being told repeatedly by his parents that becoming a successful actor was like searching for a needle in a haystack. When he became an undercover policeman, he immediately fell in love with his job. It gave him the chance to take on different characters and he took each assignment like he was the star of a blockbuster movie. He could fool the best of the best. That’s one of the reasons he was so good at his job. Crime surely didn’t pay when Chandler Larson was on the job. And soon, whoever the owner of The Lynx was would be added to his list of conquests along with anyone else that had a hand in this illegal operation.
CHAPTER 22
“How did your new client look?” Elisa asked. “Did he try to get freaky with you?”
“Nope. You know I’m not going to stand for anything other than entertaining him and getting out of there. He looked okay but there was something about him. He looked familiar, like somebody I’ve seen before.
“You may very well run into somebody you know every blue moon, but that’s highly unlikely girl. These men pay too much for their privacy and we don’t see men like them walking the Average Joe streets of Memphis, you know.”
“Yeah, I know, but he still looked familiar, that’s all. Anyway, he was nice enough though. He was an older guy, salt and pepper hair, tall, dark and rugged looking. The brother was dressed to the nines and smelled even better. He wanted me to slow dance with him. At first I was like, no way, but after I took a snort of baby girl, I was ready,” Aisha laughed.
She would never admit how much she depended on cocaine and valium to get her through the day. Whether she was at her dance studio or at The Lynx or sometimes even at church, it was nothing for her to go into a bathroom stall whenever the urge hit her and take a couple of snorts.
“You slow danced with him? You are getting bold aren’t you? I thought a Christian girl like you wouldn’t want a man rubbing up against her. Especially since you say that you’re a virgin. Unless the virgin tale is just that, a tale.” Elisa boldly confronted her. “Do I detect a change here, girlfriend,” Elisa questioned, raising her arched eyebrows.
Aisha stared at her, and her ebony complexion appeared to change to a tinted red hue. She was totally embarrassed and defensive. “I AM a Christian and don’t you forget it Elisa. I know I’m doing some things totally out of character but I’m going to stop. You’ll see. As a matter of fact, I’m going to stop at the end of the month,” she screamed.
“What? That’s only three weeks away. You can’t be serious. Can’t you take a joke? I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad. I swear. You take life way too serious sometimes.”
“Look, it’s not you. You just reminded me that I shouldn’t be doing this anyway. I’ve got what I wanted out of this. I saved my studio and I have a rather fat bank account now. But, still. I mean look at me. I actually snort cocaine and valium Elisa. Me, of all people.”
“What do you mean by you of all people? You’re human just like the rest of us. You think that just because you call yourself all into God and stuff that you’re supposed to be little miss perfect, better than the rest of us or something? Well, you’re not. You’re no better than me or the rest of these girls. Look around honey. What separates us from you? Aisha’s face turned crimson and Elisa continued reading her. “That’s why I can’t get into the God thing. ‘Cause there are a lot of so-called Christians right here at The Lynx, including you. These rich men parade in here night after night lusting after me then go home to their wives and their children like they’re so perfect and all. Sitting up in church pretending to be so holy, righteous and all of that. None of them are for real if you ask me. Just a bunch of hypocrites. And I don’t mean any harm, but no one can tell by looking at you or listening to you that you’re a so-called Christian. But still, I ain’t mad at you.” Elisa sat down and took a couple of snorts from her own personal vial, followed by a swig of her favorite apple martini.
“I didn’t say I was better than anybody,” Aisha shot back. “And you’re right. I’m on the wrong road right now. I know that things in my life have gotten out of control and I shouldn’t be doing what I’m doing. I should have trusted God in the beginning. But noooo I had to take matters into my own hands. Now here I am dancing for men, letting them ease up on me, and snorting drugs. Lord, forgive me!”
“Well, you better hope God really is the forgiving kind sweetheart because you have a lot of forgiveness to ask for. But don’t worry. You’re still a good girl Aisha. I’m not trying to put you down. I just wanted you to see that we’re all the same and nobody, I mean nobody is perfect. Right?”
“You’re right.”
“Now, come on. Let’s get out of here. I’m beat and I promised Gabby that I would be home early tonight.”
During the thirty minute drive home, Aisha became more consumed with guilt. What happened and how had she turned into the person she was now? Where had her faith failed her? Everything Elisa said to her was on target. She was no more than the unsaved people she encountered everyday. As a matter of fact, she was even worse. Because they weren’t pretending to be something other than what they were like she was. Tears crested in the corners of her eyes and she took one hand to wipe them away. She had to make a change before things got any worse. Her cell phone rang, pulling her away from the condemning thoughts that invaded her mind.
“Hello,” she spoke softly into the razor thin phone.
“Hi, Aisha. Where are you? I called you at home but you didn’t answer.”
“Mom, remember I told you that I work part-time. I’m on my way home.”
“I know you work part-time. But it seems more like a full-time job to me. You’re never home anymore and I can barely reach you on your cell.”
“I know, Mother, and I’m sorry. But I have some things I’m trying to do and in order to do them, I need this job.” Aisha was trying to hide the irritation she felt at her mother’s inquisition.
“Well, still, you shouldn’t be working so much. Remember Beverly? Well she told me that she hasn’t seen you at church or bible study lately. Beverly was one of her mother’s friends who resided in a retirement community owned and operated by the church. “Nothing should come before God and church Aisha. You know I tell you that all the time. Always, and I mean always put God first,” her mother scolded.
Her mother’s words stung her and added to the guilt she already felt. “Mom, I know I haven’t been to church lately, but you and Daddy also taught me that it’s not the number of times a person does or doesn’t attend church. It’s what’s in your heart. And
Jesus is in my heart,” Aisha declared.
“Don’t try to use my words against me, Aisha Denise Carlisle. When you get through justifying putting God, not to mention me and your daddy, on the back burner, you’re still wrong. If I didn’t call you, then I don’t know when I would hear from you. And you know that your daddy hasn’t been feeling the best lately.”
“What’s wrong with Daddy? I thought he just had a nasty cold.”
“If you would come to see us more often, then you’d know that it’s more than a cold. Your daddy went to the doctor a couple of days ago and they ran some tests and took some x-rays.”
“What kind of tests?” Aisha stomped on the brakes when she saw that she was about to run the traffic light. “Mom, look, I’ll be home in about ten minutes. Let me call you as soon as I make it to the house. I want to know what’s going on.”
“Okay, call me as soon as you get home.” She would never forgive herself if something major was wrong with her daddy and she hadn’t been around to see about him. She rushed inside the empty apartment, kicked off her shoes at the same time the auto lights popped on in the foyer. She dropped her duffel bag full of her costumes, threw her purse on the table and headed straight to the den to call her mom.
“Hi, Mom. I’m home.”
“You better stop driving so fast, Aisha. I know it hasn’t been ten minutes since we hung up.”
“Mom, please. Tell me what’s going on with Daddy,” she asked ignoring her mother’s sharp criticism. Sometimes she felt there was nothing she could do well enough in her mother’s eyes. Sandra Carlisle had been the disciplinarian in the family. Growing up Aisha felt her mother’s wrath more than a few times. She wasn’t abusive but she could cut Aisha with her words. And the look in her eyes when she was angry could stop a train in its tracks. There were times when Aisha was young that she preferred an outright whipping rather than listen to her mother’s verbal slashing.
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