A Baby for the Beast

by Chance Carter

  "Brendon," Peter answered jovially. "What a pleasant surprise. How are you?"

  "Bored," I replied. "What are you doing tonight?"

  It was only nine-thirty, which meant Peter probably hadn't even left his apartment for the bar yet. Friday nights were the charismatic Russian's time to shine, and for the most part I loved seeing what he'd get up to.

  "Uh, well... I've got some family business to take care of tonight. Much as I'd love to, I won't be making it out."

  I'd never probed to find out more about Peter's family business because I was fairly certain he had connections to the mob. The less I knew about it, the better.

  I groaned dramatically. "Come on, man. It's Friday night. Can't it wait?"

  Peter whispered a curse and shouted something to someone in rapid fire Russian.

  "Not today, my friend," he said a moment later. "If you're up for an adventure though, I know exactly the place for you."

  Probably not a good idea, I wagered. Peter's version of adventure and mine sometimes overlapped, but more often differed wildly. But hell, I was bored, I was lonely, and hanging out with Julian tonight had reignited a deep ache in me that I was working overtime to shelve and forget about.

  "What kind of adventure?"

  Peter laughed. "The kind I know for sure you're going to like," he said. "I tried out this new place a few weeks ago that's a great mood helper. It's a hotel in Queens called the Fox Regent. Heard of it?"

  "No," I replied. "Do they have a nice bar or something?"

  Why else would he be sending me to a hotel? Peter was a hard guy to figure out sometimes.

  "I don't know," he said. "I've never tried it. The real fun is going to the desk, handing over an envelope with five grand in it, and seeing what happens."

  "What do you mean seeing what happens?" I asked, irritation creeping into my tone. "Are you saying this place is a brothel or something?"

  "No, no," he reassured. "It's a regular hotel with regular guests and all that. It just so happens that a local Madame has an arrangement with the owner. It's probably the most discreet place I've been to. Excellent service, too."

  I could practically hear the lecherous grin in his voice. I should've known better than to ask Peter for tips on how to kill boredom—not that I'd really asked.

  "I'm going to pass on the brothel this time," I replied. "Although it sure sounds...fun."

  I'd never paid for sex before and had no intention to. I could go out to any club right now and go home with the most beautiful woman there. Between my good looks, stacked wallet, and charisma, I had my pick of women. So did Peter, which made it strange that he frequented brothels.

  "You're such a stick in the mud, Brendon," he chided. "Don't you think it's about time you try something a little bit risqué? Out of your comfort zone? I promise you it will be the best five grand you'll ever spend."

  "I've got a bottle of Chateau Lafite in my wine fridge that begs to differ."

  He let out a bark of laughter. "Listen, do me a favor and just go try it. How bad do you really think it's going to be, eh? It's not like the money's any trouble, and I promise you'll have the experience of a lifetime. You haven't had good sex until you've fucked one of Calypso's girls."

  I sighed and rubbed the bridge of my nose. The exit for Queens was coming up on my right. I made a stupid, flash decision and took it.

  "What's the address?" I asked.

  Chapter 4

  Aurora

  The first thing that hit me was the noise. The second was the smell. I'd never been somewhere so noisy, overcrowded, and stinky. Each street corner bustled with people and vendors, yelling over the din of the traffic just to be heard. Car horns honked, people shouted, and the jarring sounds of distant construction echoed between the buildings.

  I felt like Dorothy realizing I wasn't in Kansas anymore, except New York City was far from the idyllic land of Oz.

  Oh god. What had I done? Why the hell was I here?

  My heart hammered in my chest as I made my way up Atlantic Avenue, clutching the scrap of paper with the hotel's address in one hand, my phone and wallet held tightly in my pocket with the other. I wasn't taking any chances. The small bag of my belongings felt heavier than ever on my shoulder, and I wondered for the millionth time that day if I'd made a mistake.

  I didn't belong here. The cold faces of the passersby scared the crap out of me. I didn't know whether I might be walking past a possible friend or someone who'd sooner shank me than shake my hand.

  I wished Amy was with me. She'd offered to bring me along on her work "vacation", but that would've involved shacking up with one of her client's friends and that seemed like the opposite of what I needed right now.

  I came to New York for space, but I was beginning to wonder where in this noxious city I was supposed to find it. I just hoped the hotel wasn't some fleabag by the hour piece of crap. Amy assured me that it wasn't, but I wouldn't have put it past her to embellish the details a little to get me down there. Even though she was resplendent in her skirts and jewelry, she seemed lonely when I saw her in Bridgefield. I was lonely too. I couldn't wait for her to get back, but for now I was going to have to figure this out on my own.

  Someone ran into my shoulder, spilling coffee all over my arm. The short man and I were at the same eye height, so his glare hit me full force.

  "Watch where you're going," he snarled, disappearing back into the crowd.

  I don't know why, but that interaction was what broke me. I pulled over to the side and jammed my back against the brick wall of the residential complex looming over me. My eyes filled with tears. My heart tried to climb out my throat. I was a goddamn wreck and I didn't know what to do.

  Shaking, I pulled my cellphone out of my pocket and stared at it dejectedly. There were a couple missed call alerts from Nolan that I'd been pointedly not acknowledging. Apparently, the note I left wasn’t satisfactory. Earlier, I was high on the change and on starting anew and I resigned myself to not calling him back period. Now, with the world threatening to drop around me, I wasn't feel quite so strong.

  I took a shaky breath and dialed Nolan's number, gripping at the bricks with my free hand as if they'd keep me from being dragged back into the current of bodies.

  "Babe," he answered. "Where the hell are you? I've been so worried."

  "New York," I said. "Just like I told you in the note. Did you read it?"

  "I read enough." His gentle tone was wavering, like he'd reached his limit for kindness for the day. "When are you coming back?"

  I winced. "That's the thing, Nolan. I'm not. I said that in the note."

  The note you evidently skimmed, I wanted to say. I'd called seeking comfort though, and pissing him off was not the way to get it.

  "Are you fucking serious?" he growled. "Why would you just leave like that? Are you stupid?"

  Woah. I probably should have expected a reaction like that, but it still caught me off guard. My eyes filled with tears and I tried to explain myself. Nolan cut me off.

  "Get your ass back here right now," he said. "You're not strong enough to make it on your own. Your best bet is to come home now and be grateful that I'm taking you back after this little stunt."

  Okay. Nope. Something snapped in my mind and I went from scared small-town girl without a plan to a determined force of nature who wasn't taking shit from anybody–including my lazy, asshole ex. Who apparently didn't know that he was my ex yet since he had failed to read my goddamn note.

  "I'm not coming back," I said firmly. "I just called to tell you personally that we're over."

  "What? Stop messing around."

  "I'm not messing around. From what I hear, you're the one who's been messing around, Nolan. You and I are through, that's that. Keep the stuff I left or throw it out. I don't care. But don't call me anymore."

  With that, I hung up the phone, cutting Nolan off midway through a stream of expletives. I sagged against the rough brick and closed my eyes, not caring that I probably looked cra
zy to anybody who passed. They had crazier people here than me.

  The more I thought about it, the more I realized that being submerged in this many people was me getting some space. I didn't know them, they didn't know me, and there was a blanket of anonymity over the city because of its population. I could drift into nothingness right now just by following the crowd where it wanted to take me, and nobody from home would ever be able to find me. It was suddenly a very alluring prospect.

  I hiked my bag up further on my shoulder and shoved my phone back in my pocket before pulling back out onto the sidewalk. According to my directions, I was close.

  A few minutes later, a cream and gold sign beside a plain glass door heralded the Fox Regent. I double-checked the sign and then pulled the door open, walking into an elegantly minimalist cream-colored lobby with splashes of glass and gold accents. It was quiet inside, almost magically so. The air smelled clean and crisp, and the woman at the front counter smiled at me cheerfully.

  "Welcome to the Fox," she said. "How can I assist you today?"

  If she thought anything about my bedraggled, bewildered appearance, she didn't show it. I approached, taking in her short dark bob and long lashes and wondering if she was the very woman I came here to see.

  "Hi, I'm Aurora Frayser," I said. "I'm here to see Calypso? I was told she'd be expecting me."

  "I'll give her a call," the girl—Shereen, her name tag said—replied cheerily. She picked up the phone and exchanged a few hushed words with the person on the other line before hanging up.

  "She'll be right down. In the meantime, can I offer you a refreshment?"

  My mouth was almost too dry to function. I smiled with relief. "I would love a glass of water."

  Shereen nodded enthusiastically and reached under the counter. A second later she produced a bottle of water, frosted with dewy condensation. It was chilled to perfection and I drank half of it down without stopping.

  The door opened and a man walked in. I stepped out of the way, but he still shot me a weary look as he approached the desk.

  "I'd like a room," he said in a gravelly tone, handing an envelope to Shereen.

  "Absolutely." Shereen took the envelope and handed him a key. "Your usual."

  Ah. This must be the brothel part of the hotel, I realized. The man slipped off to the elevator without another word, and Shereen's smile didn't falter even a little. It was an interesting thing to observe. I imagined I'd be seeing a lot of similar scenarios over the next few days. If Calypso accepted me, that is.

  The smell of peaches reached me before I even realized that Calypso had entered the room. By the time I heard her clothes swishing against the tile, she was right behind me.

  I turned, surprised, and smiled at the dark-haired woman standing before me. She looked to be in her mid-thirties at the very most, but there was a sense of age about the way she stood that told me she might be older. Her copper eyes were lined dark black, though she wore relatively little else in terms of make-up.

  She made up for the lack of color on her face by wearing every conceivable color at once on the rest of her. Her long, swishing skirt was layered with blues and greens, and her peasant, off the shoulder top faded from pink, to purple, to a dark, navy blue. On anyone else, it would have looked awful, but Calypso wore the outfit like she was a queen and these was her ceremonial robes. She was absolutely stunning, and standing before her was a little like looking directly into the sun.

  "Darling!" she cooed, taking my hands in hers. "You must be Aurora. Such a pretty name. Dear Tatiana has told me all about you."

  It was still somewhat jarring to hear Amy referred to by her escort name, but I'd get used to it. I doubted this woman's real name was Calypso. Maybe I should take on a fake name, just for fun.

  "Thank you for agreeing to see me," I said. "Am-Tatiana said lots of nice things about you."

  Calypso smirked cheekily at my near slip. Then she wound her arms around my shoulders and began leading me to the elevator.

  "Let's get you upstairs and get a drink in you, and then I want to know everything." She jammed a manicured finger into the elevator call button. I swallowed nervously.

  "Everything?"

  She nodded with a bright smile. "Everything. That's the thing you'll find with us working girls." She winked and nudged me in the shoulder. "We're very good listeners. That's the greatest service we provide, truth be told. Your Tatiana is one of the best out there when it comes to hearing people's stories. The number of clients she's had who've fallen in love with her is staggering."

  We entered the elevator, and she hit the button for the top floor, still chatting away. "That's the thing about men, you see. Most of the time they just want someone to listen to them, and when a girl with a pretty face listens to their problems while giving them the best blow job of their life, even the hardest of hearts starts to crack. It's why my girls get to charge so much."

  I still wasn't sure about all this. She was acting like I was here to be her next protégé, and I was growing more nervous by the second.

  "Tatiana told you that I'm not here to...you know...right?"

  Calypso tossed her head back and let out a bark of laughter. "Oh, darling. You can't even say the word and you've come to sleep in a whorehouse. I'm going to have plenty of fun with you. I can already tell."

  The elevator binged and the doors slid open to reveal a short hallway. There was only one door on either side, and Calypso led me to the door on the left. She still hadn’t answered my question, but I got the feeling she wasn't the type to want to discuss business unless settled into a comfy lounger with a drink in her hand. She was breezier than the summer wind.

  We stepped into a beautiful suite with an overhanging loft and vaulted ceilings. While the lobby below was decorated austerely, Calypso's room was luxuriously decadent. Fur throws were scattered over the furniture, and beautiful paintings and art pieces decorated the border of the room. High windows looked out over a deck with a stone fireplace surrounded by wicker chairs covered in cozy blankets. It was the nicest place I'd ever been inside and I was completely speechless.

  "Come in before you catch a cold, darling," she said playfully, noting my obvious awe.

  I followed her into the living room and she guided me down onto the love seat, tossing a blanket over my lap. It was hot as hell outside, but inside the air was crisp and the blanket was appreciated.

  "Now let me guess," she murmured, tapping her bottom lip with one finger. "I'm a pro at figuring out a person's favorite drink, and I think yours is..." She scrunched up her full lips. "Beer."

  I blinked in surprise. "How did you know?"

  "Like I said, it's a talent!" She swept out of the living room to the kitchen beyond, which shimmered with stainless steel appliances and a shiny granite countertop.

  I suspected Amy probably told her my favorite drink, either that or she guessed the same for all small-town girls. Still, it was impressive, and I already felt at ease with the strange woman, even if she was a little eccentric.

  Calypso returned a moment later with a beer for me and a glass of sparkling gold wine for herself. It was probably fancy champagne, nicer than any vintage I'd ever tried. The more time I spent with her, the more escorting seemed like a good idea.

  Calypso sprawled across the chaise opposite where I sat, her skirt slipping open at the side to reveal one tanned leg. She looked absolutely glamorous and I couldn't take my eyes off of her. If I had money, I would probably spend a good chunk of it just to spend time with her too. Her atmosphere was intoxicating.

  "Now that we're all settled, why don't you tell me all about yourself?" she asked airily. "Tatiana has given me the basics, but don't worry about repeating anything. I prefer to get my stories from the source."

  Not quite knowing where to start, and spurred on by her gentle expression, I started back in high school. I wasn't sure why I went so far back, but it seemed to make sense in the context of the story. She needed to understand why I was with Nolan, and
how it had been so easy to call me back home when I was in college. Why I'd stayed, instead of going off in search of my passion like I always wanted to.

  When I got up to today, Calypso was still listening intently. Her eyes had barely strayed from mine the whole time. It was almost unsettling, but she was so genuine that it felt comforting instead.

  "You have had quite the journey, haven't you?" she said when I finished. "I'm so glad Tatiana sent you my way. I would be absolutely tickled to help you get on your feet, though I will say it'd be a far cry easier to do if you did want to consider taking on a few clients. You're a ravishing beauty, you know, and I know plenty of men who would pay good money to hear that honey-silk voice of yours cry their name in ecstasy."

  I blushed, looking down at my beer. "Not that I have a problem with that kind of thing," I said. "I just don't think it's the life for me."

  "I can definitely sense that," she said with a sympathetic nod. "If you change your mind, I'll add you to the roster in a heartbeat. For now, how do you feel about cleaning?"

  "I was the only one who ever cleaned at home," I said, thinking back on Nolan's disgusting kitchen habits. He would leave dishes moldering in the sink for days if I wasn't around to clean them up for him. I wondered how he was doing now that I was gone. It probably stank in the house.

  "Then you'll do just fine," Calypso said with an approving smile. "The hotel staff proper don't clean the rooms my girls use, so I have to bring in outside help. They're usually quite clean but there will be occasions where you'll have to pick up the odd dildo or two or wash chocolate out of the sheets. In return for a couple hours' work a day, I can offer you full room and board. How does that sound?"