by Ward, H. M.
We are sitting in her dorm room. Her roommate is out and Mel is bouncing up and down with excitement. She walks across the room and flops on her bed. I sit in the comfy chair opposite her and pull my feet under my butt.
“Mel, I don’t know where he came from. Sean seems to haunt that corner like a ghost. The first time I met him, he rode up next to me on a motorcycle and helped me get my car back. It was the night I was carjacked.”
Her grin widens. “He’s hot and he’s chivalrous? Jackpot!”
I shake my head. “No, not jackpot. He’s messed up. Sean looks familiar because his picture is in the book at Miss Black’s. He was the one who wanted a virgin.” I don’t know what I think about that. He seems normal without that piece of information.
Mel starts to say something, but her mouth hangs open. It’s like the words evaporated or something. I lift a brow at her, like I told you so. A snarky expression flashes across her face, “Don’t go giving me that look. Everyone is fucked up to some extent.”
“This one seems more so than others.” A memory slips into my mind. I can see Sean’s eyes and feel them on me. It makes me heart race. I hate that I have that reaction to him. And his lips… Shut up! I scold myself. I add, “Besides, most guys don’t go looking for hookers.”
Mel holds up a finger and corrects me. “Call girls, high priced call girls. There’s a difference.” Like I should know that.
I snort. “Yeah, meaning the guys have money.”
“Well, that’s a difference,” Mel says like it’s a valid point. She locks eyes with me and says, “So, let me get this straight. This really hot guy offers to help you when some asshole steals your car, you accept his help, you guys get your car back, and then what?”
I nod as she speaks, affirming her conclusions. “Then, nothing. We said good-bye. I don’t have time to date and Sean didn’t seem interested, but then I saw him again. And again. He brought me home last night after I flooded the engine trying to start my car.” I have that vacant look in my eye that tells her that I’m remembering more than I’m saying.
“And…” she prompts, prodding me with her eyes.
I shrug, not wanting to tell her about the kiss. “And nothing. He’s fucked up. You said so yourself. I can do damaged, but not—”
Mel starts laughing and I have no idea why. She’s lying on her back on the bed and actually kicks her feet over her head and holds her stomach as she shakes with laughter. As usual, I have no idea what’s so funny. Thinking quickly, I wonder what I missed, but don’t see it. I throw a thick pillow across the room and it slaps into her thigh.
Mel rolls upright and wipes a tear from her eye. Still smiling way too big, she says, “Holy shit! That’s why you took the job with Miss Black! You like him.” She’s grinning at me now. Suddenly Mel regains her composure. Seriously, she asks, “Tell me, Avery, what are you planning to do when you meet him as Miss Black’s girl? Pretend that you’re someone else? Pretend that nothing ever happened? Or are you planning on using the SURPRISE! method of scaring the crap out of the guy? Ya know, cakes aren’t part of our MO.”
I rub a finger to my temple. I didn’t really think about that part. “I thought he’d just gloss over it.”
“You’re kind of hard to forget. You seriously think he’ll act like he doesn’t know you? Who’s mental now?” Mel folds her arms across her chest and gives me a look.
I make a strangled sound and bury my face in a pillow. Okay, maybe this is a bad plan. When I look up I say, “I am, obviously.” I take a deep breath and ask, “What do I do with this? Who signs up for this and has sex with a guy that she already knows?”
“No one. There’s a rule. Miss Black is strict with it. There are no extra relationships outside work when you’re with her company.”
“Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?”
Mel blinks at me. “What fucking cow? We’re talking about you. White folks are so messed up.” She shakes her head and looks up at me, totally serious. “If you work for Black, you have no relationships outside of work. There are no real names, no addresses. Everything is done at hotels. The entire point is anonymity and the guy gets whatever fantasy he wants fulfilled. You kind of messed that up since you already know him.”
A jolt of panic shoots through me. I lean forward in the chair. “I don’t really know him,” I stammer, “I mean, I don’t know his last name, where he lives, I don’t know anything about him besides that he’s hot and has a motorcycle.”
Mel holds up a hand and cuts me off. “What, you think I’m gonna rat you out? Get real, chica. I’m trying to help you. Don’t mention any of that to Miss Black and stay away from Sean outside of work. He knows the rules as well as you do. Besides, if he breaks them, I hear Black has a security team that breaks his legs.”
“Are you serious?”
She nods. “There’s a lot of money in this business, enough to keep us safe and keep the guys from turning into stalkers. No one messes with us.” No one speaks for a moment. Mel’s amber gaze lifts and meets mine. “Are you really going to do it?”
My voice barely comes out. “I have to. There aren’t other options. Rent is astronomical and some temp job will render me homeless faster than I can blink. I did the math. I’m screwed. I might as well accept this as fate and go with it.”
“Fate?”
I nod. “Yeah, if it wasn’t him—if I never met Sean—I couldn’t have gone through with it. As it is, I feel sick.”
She smiles weakly at me. “I know what you mean, but don’t worry, it’ll pass and I’ll help you through it.”
CHAPTER 11
The photo shoot isn’t what I thought it would be. There’s a photographer—an older guy with a huge black camera—and Miss Black. We start by taking pictures of me clothed. They take a few headshots and then move onto full figure shots. I’m wearing jeans and a clingy sweater. I look young. My hair falls down my back in thick waves. They set my curls before we started the shoot.
I feel silly. That’s the best word for it. I have trouble loosening up until Miss Black gets me talking. Then, things go better. I feel more at ease. I laugh. They put me in a few different outfits and the final outfit is a skin tight black dress. The back is extremely low and dips past the small of my back. The dress is like a second skin. Every imperfection I have stands out and I feel like a fat hobo.
“This can’t possibly look good.” I say, pulling at the dress.
Miss Black swats my hands away and says, “You have no idea how stunning you are, do you? The dress fits perfectly, and what you think is fat are feminine curves. Without them you’d be a broom handle, so stop fidgeting and go sit over there.” Miss Black points to a corner with a bench in front of a bank of windows. The city scape is behind me. The photographer moves his gear to the new location. It’s the only shot that isn’t on a backdrop.
I sit down and smooth the dress. I start to tug down the hem, but Miss Black, says, “Leave it. Turn toward the city, Avery. Look out the window and pull your hair over your shoulder.”
I finally understand what they are doing. I twist toward the glass and flip my hair over my shoulder. It sweeps all to one side. I glance back at them. It’s a more natural shot, like they’re taking the picture of me when I don’t know it. The photographer stands behind me with the camera to his face. I hear the shutter click. I glance at Miss Black for guidance, but she doesn’t give any so I turn back to the glass. I lift my hand and touch the cold window pane with my finger, staring blankly at the city. I don’t smile. I feel lost. My life is nothing like I thought it would be. I wish I’d gone with my parents that night. I wish I wasn’t left here alone. I watch the red and white lights race by below. Life seems so fleeting, so pointless. I take a breath in and look back over my shoulder. The shutter snaps capturing the haunted look in my eyes.
Miss Black has her fingers on her chin like she’s pleased. “Very good, Avery. You’re done with this part of the kit. We’ll do your blood work and fill out the res
t of your papers.”
I nod, surprised that there aren’t more damning photographs taken. As if she could sense my thoughts, Miss Black says, “We don’t do nude pictures. The joy of seeing the woman in the flesh for the first time is part of the package. The rest of the pictures are to give an idea of your personality, likes and dislikes.”
“But you didn’t ask me any of that.”
“I know. You’ll be the girl we tell you to be, which is very close to your natural inclinations anyway.”
I nod. I don’t care anymore. I change out of the dress and put my jeans and sweater back on. When we get to the paperwork that I saw the first time I was here, I don’t know what to check off. I’ve never done any of it, so how am I supposed to know what I will do or won’t do.
I’m sitting at the same small table at the back of the cubicles. The place is empty again. I wonder if anyone is ever here, besides Miss Black. I look at the paper and blink.
Miss Black sits next to me with a cup of coffee. It’s black. She hands it to me. I sit up and take it. Miss Black pulls the papers in front of her. “I have an idea. Why don’t we write on here that this sheet will be modified as experience is accumulated?”
“That’s fine for future, er—dates, but what about now?” I ask.
“Treat it like a normal relationship and tell him when to stop.”
“But if there are no hard boundaries…”
“You lose some of the protection afforded by the rules. I know what you’re thinking, but it’s impossible to know what another woman will like or what she won’t tolerate. There are some things here that I thought I would never do, and that I’ve grown to enjoy.” I must give her a weird look because she leans forward and touches my hand, saying, “Don’t misunderstand. I want you to feel comfortable, so let’s put a progression on here that way he can’t skip to the kinky stuff without doing the normal stuff first. Is that all right?” I nod. This is so weird. Miss Black smiles and writes it on the paper. “Good. I think this lines up with Mr. Ferro’s preferences anyway.”
“Who?” I ask, wiggling to the front of my seat.
“Mr. Ferro, the man who I wanted to pair you with.” Miss Black stands and retrieves the large book from the other night. She flips it open and it’s everything I can do to not react. It’s Sean. Pictures of Sean, his preference sheet, his description of what he finds attractive, and more. “Don’t be afraid, Avery. It’s only a binder. Take it and look.”
I do as she says, and pull the binder in front of me. Mr. Ferro. Sean Ferro. There is no first name on the sheets. Miss Black explains how they only use formal names, that I am to call him Mr. Ferro. I wonder if that name is real or not. I wonder why he came in here, why a handsome man like Sean would want this. I touch a picture, looking at his eyes. My gaze drifts to his lips and I feel a zing float through my stomach. I blink hard to crush the memory and turn the page looking for answers, but there are none. It showcases a man that seems beautiful and normal.
Sean wrote that he prefers a woman with little experience so that he can take the time to teach her. What’s that about? Altruism at its finest. He wants other guys to have better sex, so he teaches the new girl the ropes. That makes no sense. None of this does. There’s a disconnect between this file and the guy I know.
A voice at the back of my mind says, Maybe you don’t know him at all.
CHAPTER 12
My heart is banging into my ribs so hard that I think they might crack. I step out of the shower and towel off. Amber is screeching like a skewered cat as her headboard bangs into the wall. I so don’t want to hear this, but I had to be home to get ready to go out.
I locked myself in our bathroom and put on my make-up after showering. I tie a bathrobe around me when I finish. Mel has a dress that she’s lending me for tonight, since I didn’t have anything suitable.
I think about seeing Sean, about what I’ll say. Part of me thinks that I shouldn’t say anything, that I should let him explain the whole thing. After all, we are both way more sketchy than we seemed.
Amber’s voice busts my eardrum and then she finally shuts up. I try to sneak out of the bathroom now, before the two of them have a chance to start again. I toss my make-up back into my bag and run for the door. The way the room is situated has both our beds in the same area with a little Jack and Jill bathroom off of one end that we share with the girls next door.
I race by the beds and fail to notice the guy—not Dennis—standing in our kitchen. He has my throw blanket tied around his naked hips.
The guy looks up at me and then glances at Amber. “Hey, babe. Is this going to be a threesome? I’m down with that.” He grins at me. The guy is a clone of Dennis. What the hell? I glance back at Amber, shooting her daggers, but she’s lying in bed and doesn’t bother to look at me.
“Don’t touch my things!” I snap at him.
He grins at me like an idiot. Without thinking, I reach forward, snatch the blanket, and run out the door leaving the guy standing there with nothing on.
I run down the hall, holding the blanket between my fingers. When I step into the room, Mel seems annoyed, but her mood quickly changes to disgust when she sees the way I’m holding the blanket. She opens a drawer and pulls something out.
“Oh gross, not again.” She holds up a trash bag for me and I drop the blanket inside. It’ll need to be cleaned again and I don’t want his junk all mashed up in my other wash.
“I don’t even want to talk about it. I swear to God, she’s the worst roommate ever. The only thing she’s got going for her is that she doesn’t steal.”
Mel doesn’t look convinced. “No offense hun, but you ain’t got nothing worth stealing.”
“Story of my life. So help me shake of the heebie-jeebies and get ready.”
Mel snorts a laugh. Her hand quickly covers her mouth as she continues to laugh. “Where did you learn those words? You’d think you were raised in a nunnery. Damn, girl.” Mel shakes her head and walks over to her closet. A dark violet cocktail dress is hanging at the front. She pulls it out and hands it to me. “What do you think? With your dark hair and eyes, I thought that color would work well for you. Plus it’s easy to wear.”
I hold the soft fabric in my hands. My heart starts pumping harder. I’m going to do this. The dress is the final step on the tightrope of insanity. I’m kind of hoping I fall off and break my neck. I don’t know if I can go through with it. I nod, not saying anything I’m thinking. “It’s beautiful.”
The dress has a bright purple silk lining that is covered by black chiffon. The necklines scoops low and the back dips even lower. It’s held up by a silver clip on one shoulder. It’s like a Greek Goddess dress. I blink at it for a moment. I can’t believe this is happening.
As if Mel can sense my thoughts, she says, “And how about the rest? Did Mandy hook you up with a nice lacey garter set?”
The undergarments are inspected by Miss Black before I leave in a limo for my appointment with Sean. Nothing I had would have been acceptable, so I took what little money I had left and bought some stockings, thigh highs, panties and a bra. Everything was on clearance, but the whole thing is from a store on Miss Black’s approved list.
I nod, and slip off the housecoat so she can see. It feels a little funny, but I have to put on the dress anyway. I pull it off the hanger as Mel looks me over. “There wasn’t much in my price range.”
“Well, I’m just glad they had something. That should pacify Miss Black. She just wants to make sure we don’t skimp on anything.”
“I can’t believe how much this stuff costs. The stockings cost more than my entire outfit.”
Mel shakes her head and smiles at me. “But have you felt them?”
“Yeah, they’re buttery soft, but at that price I’ll cry if I snag them.” I’m trying to wriggle into the dress without messing up my make-up. It slips over me and I reach for the side to zip it, but Mel’s already there. She pulls up the zipper for me and I look in the mirror. The dress fits per
fectly. The bodice is formfitting and the skirt is on the shorter side and flares slightly at the hem. If I didn’t feel like I was going to puke, I’d twirl.
“You look perfect.”
“Thanks,” I say, pulse pounding harder. I take a deep breath and try to calm down.
“Have you thought about what you’re going to say to him?” Mel steps back and grabs a comb. She quickly pulls my long locks into a beautiful style. I don’t even know what to call it. It’s half up and half down. Loose strands hang by my shoulders as random curls are pinned and twisted onto the back of my head.
“No, not really. And Mel, if he says no, I’m walking away from this. If I can’t do it with him, I just can’t do it.”
Mel stills her hands and presses her lips together. “You give up too easy.”
“Maybe, but I have to be able to live with myself. My body and emotions aren’t detached. I don’t know how to do this without falling for the guy.”
Mel folds her arms over her chest. She still has to get ready to go out later. “Listen, it’ll come to you. One of the things I don’t do is lingering kisses, you know the kind. They get all hot and heavy. It makes it feel like something it’s not. That preference sheet isn’t just what you like, it’s what you can tolerate.”
“What if I cry the whole time? What if I can’t tolerate any of it?”
“You’re stronger than that, Avery. Me and you, we’re on our own. We’re strong because we have to be. We don’t need anyone or anything. We got our sights set on something and we get it, no matter the cost.”
My stomach curls. She’s just like me, maybe a little more battered by life, but we’re the same. “The end justifies the means.”
“Surviving justifies anything.”