The Bound Bride

by Anne Lawrence

  “Better. And just remember, I’d never steer you wrong.”

  She trusted Iris, but that remained to be seen.

  “Here’s the deal, Cass. The men who make the money still need things. They need wives. Or what a wife does. Cook, clean, watch the kids. But he’s too busy for bars. Even too busy for speed dating.”

  Now that was busy.

  “So you sign up for this sight, they screen you, and you find yourself a… a benefactor.”

  Even in those terms, it still sounded shady. What happened after lights out for the little ones?

  “Well, I guess this is the answer,” Cassandra said. “Playing with perverts.”

  Iris sighed.

  “Like you’re such a prude. Cass, it’s safe. They screen you. Take your particulars. They take his. And it’s money. If you don’t mind scouring a pot now and then!”

  Iris’s words and the images of retro styled housewives and cabaret dates made it sound tame. And tempting. Her eyes settled on a blonde, blue girl smiling at an olive-skinned Adonis. They clinked glasses. And the girl, even if she was a model, or an actress, looked completely relaxed. She had no worries. She was happy.

  Cassandra took the phone from Iris and clicked to the screen where she was invited to register. It was easy. And it was free. The second part appealed to her most. She was about to be evicted. The next knock wouldn’t be just Iris.

  “And… and it’s not a… sex thing?” Cassandra asked.

  Iris patted her shoulder.

  “It can be, Cass.

  That wasn’t a total turn off. Iris had called it. Cassandra wasn’t shy.

  “But it doesn’t have to be. These two girls I know? One’s got a profile that says she’s down for anything.”

  “And the other?” Cassandra asked.

  “She’s there when he gets home, sees that he’s fed, and leaves him with a beer and a ballgame.”

  That didn’t sound horrible. Cassandra would even be up for sticking around for the beer.

  “Cass, come on. It’s like a… like a housekeeper who can engage in topics he’s interested in. Bet a lot of these guys would dig a girl who knows her Rembrandts!”

  Or else they just wanted a good meal. Cassandra wasn’t the world’s best cook, but she could follow a recipe and present something edible. And kids? If they were sweet, she was sold. So…

  “Cass?”

  She smiled at Iris and took a deep breath as she decided to sign up.

  Chapter Three

  Cassandra took the elevator to the fourteenth floor and stepped into an ultra-modern reception area. Everything was stainless steel and floor to ceiling windows. It was blinding. She looked at the main desk and saw LeaseALady in emerald green letters. Like her eyes. She’d take it as a sign that she was doing the right thing.

  With Iris’s help, she had navigated to the page that invited her to log in or register. It was easier with her laptop.

  First, she had to create a username.

  She started to key in her full name. Cassandra Dodd. When she clicked, she found that it was already taken. What were the odds? Another Cassandra was in equally dire straits.

  “Maybe add your birthdate?” Iris suggested.

  Cassandra obeyed. Also taken.

  “Seriously?” Cassandra said. She started to close the laptop.

  “Don’t be so quick to give up, Cass. We just need to be a little more… creative.”

  “Creative… how?”

  Iris pondered the issue and suddenly snapped her fingers.

  “Stripper name!”

  “Stripper—”

  “Quick! First pet!”

  Cassandra’s first pet and only pet had been a goldfish she’d won at a school fair. She called it Trixie. Her dad never missed a chance to catch a Honeymooners rerun.

  “Oooh,” Iris said. “I already like where this is going. Street where you were born?”

  “Carol Drive.”

  “Oh that is great! Do it!”

  Cassandra slowly keyed in Trixie Carol and waited for the site to search through its list of members. She and Iris held their collective breath. When they made it to the password screen, they cried out together and slapped hands.

  “Yes!” Cassandra said.

  “We’re in business now, baby!”

  She created a password and was taken to the profile page. At first it was a blank slate requiring her personal details. Age, location, interests. And there was a faceless head framed in light blue that awaited her image. She stared to push the computer from her lap.

  “What’s wrong?” Iris asked.

  “I… can’t do this, Iris. I mean… if my picture’s up there… then anyone can see it.”

  She thought of her father. She doubted that he would spend his free time searching for another wife. He was barely interested in the one he already had. Then again…

  “No, Iris. This isn’t—”

  Iris took hold of the computer with a roll of her eyes.

  “This is a way out from under.”

  “I get that. But… but Iris…”

  “Spit it out, Cass.”

  Iris was nothing if not eager to get to Point A and hurry along to Point B.

  “If… if I actually do this. And then… say I get a shot at something… legitimate…”

  Iris clicked on About Us. A window popped up listing the legitimacy of the site. All members, contractors and customers, were carefully screened, underwent criminal background checks, drug screenings, STD tests. Even the smallest red flag meant that acceptance was denied. And even once an individual was on board, if health was compromised, charges filed, or if the rules of the site were violated in any way, it was kicked to the curb time.

  “See?” Iris said. “This is totally safe.”

  As usual, Iris was missing the point.

  “I get that. But what I’m saying is that… that if I do this and then get a… a professional break… then this is going to come back to haunt me. Big time.”

  Cassandra had images of landing a job at MoMA. She was reveling in a six figure salary and splurging on a new wardrobe before her first day. She saw herself smiling at new coworkers who would soon be friends. She saw them hold their phones and their tablets before her eyes. Her image under the name Trixie Carol. She saw all of them showing her the door before her foot was even in.

  “Cass, you can’t think about tomorrow. It might not even come.”

  “Wow, Iris. Thanks.”

  “I’m not… I’m just saying that you can’t worry about what hasn’t even happened yet. Maybe you are creating a past that’s gonna come back to haunt you. Or maybe you’ll actually meet someone who’s gonna give you that professional break.”

  Huh. Cassandra hadn’t thought of that. The men who used this site were likely not like her father. These had to be jet setters and corporate raiders too busy to date because they spent all their free hours dreaming up ways to make even more money. Where to donate that money. The arts were always popular when someone wanted to extend a charitable hand. One dinner with the right philanthropist might be all that she needed.

  “Cass?”

  Iris waited as Cassandra took the computer and started to craft the girl who would be Trixie Carol.

  Like Cassandra, she was twenty-three, lived in New York, and enjoyed art, film, and the occasional trip to the opera. And classic sitcoms.

  “Nice,” Iris said with a laugh.

  “You really think so?”

  “Oh yeah. Add your beverage of choice, and we have the ideal woman.”

  Why not? She keyed in the word beer.

  Next came a questionnaire. It seemed an endless list. Cassandra groaned at the sight of it and left the couch.

  “No way,” Iris said. “You’re not giving up now are you?”

  Cassandra tossed Iris a beer and opened another for herself. She took a quick chug and settled at her friend’s side.

  “Just needed to steel myself for the task at hand.”

  Ir
is gently punched her shoulder and they hunkered down to see what the questions would tell them about Cassandra.

  A lot of them were of the yes/no variety. Did she have a college degree? Yes. Was she currently employed? No. Did she enjoy three course meals at five star restaurants? Yes. Was she fond of outdoor activities like rock climbing and kayaking? Where was the absolutely not option?

  When she reached the end, there was a space for Cassandra to write a brief paragraph in response to the question why did she want to become a Leased Lady?

  Here Cassandra stopped and was stumped. Not because she didn’t know the answer. She was desperate for a quick buck and Iris, like always, was looking out for her. But she knew it wasn’t the right answer. She should say something about wanting to ease a lonely spirit or make a difference or broaden her horizons by meeting new people. In some ways, that was also true. But LeaseALady.com was the last place she expected to be doing it.

  “Well, Cass?”

  Iris was anxiously waiting for whatever she would write.

  Cassandra’s hands lingered above the keyboard, and she thought hard. She remembered something that Dr. Wyatt, her favorite professor from the days when she was going to be a great writer, had once said.

  Make your case and make it brief.

  No doubt other girls who wanted to be Ladies wrote novels in an effort to advance their causes. Whoever screened the applications was probably bored by the third sentence. Cassandra wouldn’t make that mistake.

  And she typed the following.

  I want a chance.

  It said it all. Yet she hoped it was cryptic enough to invite more questions. She looked to Iris for reassurance.

  “Awesome, Cass. Now up.”

  “What?”

  “On your feet, girl.”

  Iris dragged Cassandra to the wall and positioned Cassandra against the white background.

  “What are you—?”

  “You have to send a pic. Or else they won’t consider you.”

  “Like this?”

  “Just pull your hair back.”

  “Iris, I—”

  “You have good skin, nice teeth—”

  “No.”

  “But we’re almost—”

  “I said I wanted a chance. I won’t have one if—”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Cass. You’re pretty.”

  Iris always said that. And maybe in the days when her dark hair shined and her green eyes glittered, it was even true. But not now. Not when she was a just a step away from the gutter.

  “Iris—”

  “It’ll be different, Cass. Who knows who you’ll land if you keep it real.”

  The prospect was terrifying, but at least it wouldn’t lead to any promises she couldn’t keep. Cassandra smoothed her face and tucked her hair behind the ears. She managed a smile, and Iris snapped the shot. With one email, the image made its way to Cassandra’s laptop, and she uploaded.

  Once the sadly smiling image was in place, Cassandra clicked submit.

  “Now what?” Cassandra asked.

  “Now you wait.”

  She awoke the next morning with a wicked hangover. She couldn’t remember just when Iris had left, but she was definitely gone. Cassandra stumbled to the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. She took a quick hit of Listerine and swirled it around her mouth before spitting it into the sink. She made her way back to the couch and went to her email. She was expecting to see nothing but spam and reminders about upcoming payments that she had no hope of making. As usual, they were there.

  But there was also something else.

  An unread message from LeaseALady.com.

  Cassandra held her breath and opened the email. It seemed to take forever to load. She was bracing herself for a thanks for your interest, but after reviewing you application, we regret to inform you…

  It was anything but.

  Dear Ms. Carol,

  Greetings! We think you are an exciting new candidate for our team. We would like to schedule an appointment at our NYC location to discuss your application further. Please contact Mary Lynn Masters to set up an interview. Looking forward to meeting you!

  It was signed LeaseALady.com Support. Cassandra reread the message three times. It wasn’t a done deal, but at least it was a chance.

  She’d take it.

  Cassandra called Iris with the good news. She called Mary Lynn Masters and set up an appointment for the next day. This day was spent selecting the right outfit, and for the first night in months, she didn’t drink herself to sleep. She needed her head clear if she was going to make it from candidate to contractor.

  And there she was, shaking and sober, before the logo on the fourteenth floor.

  Chapter Four

  Cassandra looked up and saw a perfectly coiffed woman waiting behind the desk. She finished a phone call and raised her eyes to Cassandra’s waiting face. In her gray skirt and sweater combo, she expected only a snarky sneer. But the receptionist gave her a warm smile.

  “Hi there!” she said as she extended her hand. Cassandra was slow to take it. The receptionist stepped from behind her desk and rubbed Cassandra’s arm.

  “Are you okay?”

  She was trembling all over. It was all more real than she could have imagined. The space, the light, the kind-hearted gatekeeper. Cassandra started to lose her footing as the receptionist wrapped her arms around her and held her in place.

  “Easy, baby. Nothing to be scared about. We’re all friends here.”

  She wasn’t so sure. But she leaned against the blonde woman without an ounce of fat on her body and tried to catch her breath.

  “Better?” she asked.

  Cassandra nodded and let the receptionist guide her to the sofa, black and shimmering against all the brightness. Once Cassandra was settled, the receptionist moved away and swiftly returned with a bottle of water. Dasani. Cassandra twisted the lid off and drank like a weary desert traveler. She arched her head back and kept swallowing to keep the water from staining the outfit that she’d carefully selected for the occasion. Careful meant all that was available. And all that she could afford. She left the bottle and wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve.

  So much for protecting her wardrobe.

  The receptionist stroked her hair, bound in a tight bun, and looked into her eyes.

  “Wow!”

  What else had she done wrong?

  “What?”

  “Green eyes. Never actually saw them. A least not on a cat. You got claws?”

  She did. And she could use them.

  The receptionist smiled and patted her cheek.

  “I think you’re in,” she said. “And you are?”

  Cassandra tried to remember her name.

  “I’m… Trixie Carol.”

  The receptionist cocked her head at the info, then returned to her computer and stared intently at her monitor. She clicked through what had to be endless applications until she stopped on a smile. She looked back at Cassandra with a warm grin.

  “So you want a chance?”

  Already everyone knew.

  Cassandra had no words as she nodded.

  The receptionist stretched up the entire length of her long and lean frame and moved back to Cassandra. She wiped what was left of the water from Cassandra’s mouth and smiled again.

  “Take a deep breath, Trixie. I’m Shay.”

  Of course she was. Cassandra tried to quickly figure out what Shay was short for. Could be Sharon. Or Shannon. Or possibly Sheila. More likely it was a pet name, and she didn’t have the time for an origin story. Cassandra just nodded and tried to catch her breath.

  “Hi… Shay.”

  Shay took her hand.

  “A little nervous?” she asked.

  Cassandra no longer feared that she was surrendering to a kind of prostitution. What scared her now was that she wouldn’t be good enough for the clients awaiting every promised pleasure. Who was she compared to the Shays who looked like models
and smelled like lavender?

  “A lot.”

  Shay patted her knee. She returned to her desk and announced the stripper name.

  “Ms. Masters? Ms. Carol to see you.”

  Cassandra waited for the call to enter. It soon came with a soft yes, and Shay rose again to guide Cassandra deeper into the LeaseALady world.

  She was inside an office of white walls and abstract art. Cassandra caught a hint of Kandinsky all around her. She thought of sharing this bit of insight with Ms. Masters.

  Another woman emerged from a private washroom, blonder and tanner and thinner than Shay, Cassandra forgot everything she thought she ever knew about art.

  Ms. Masters waved Shay back to her desk. Shay squeezed Cassandra’s arm. It was a vote for luck. Cassandra took it and watched Shay fade from her sight.

  “Sit. Ms. Carol.”

  Cassandra did as she was told. She crossed and uncrossed her legs as Ms. Masters scanned a printout, still warm. She read through it, slowly, then gazed over the page at Cassandra.

  “Trixie Carol? And here I thought you wanted to keep it real.”

  She had lost the chance before it even started. She was only here to be mocked by prettier girls who were wanted by LeaseALady regulars. She started to her feet when Ms. Masters whistled for her to wait. Cassandra clutched the arms of her chair.

  She waited.

  Ms. Masters looked through the pages again. Cassandra feared an insult. It was coming. Any minute now.

  Ms. Masters dropped the printout and smiled at Cassandra.

  “So you want a chance?”

  “I… yes. Please.”

  Ms. Masters opened an unseen drawer and steadied a small camera before Cassandra’s nervous face.

  So still life wasn’t enough. They needed her living, breathing. Sweating.

  “I… I didn’t know I’d have to be filmed…”

  “Our clients like a taste of what they’re about to get themselves into.”

  Cassandra could say the same thing.

  “You ready, Trixie?”

  Ready enough to be real.

  “It’s… it’s Cassandra. Cassandra Dodd”

  Ms. Masters smiled.

  “Prettier. It suits you. But the username is fun. Keep it until you’re with your first guy. Care to answer a few more questions?”