by Cynthia Dane
“I take it things are going well with Mr. Bolivar and Dr. Christens?”
Judith barely had time to settle in her chair before that comment dropped in her ear. “It’s fine,” she muttered, trying not to think of either one. Judith had awoken Monday morning still wrapped in Miguel’s arms, her body refusing to let go of his until he had made love to her one last time. I didn’t charge him. What is wrong with me? I only charged him for the night before… I didn’t want money for the morning… I’m doomed. I’m fucking doomed.
When Miguel finally left, Judith had to get ready for Seth and his canvases. Judith had been so anxious to get the taste of Miguel out of her body that the first thing she did when Seth arrived was seduce him right into bed. I fucked them both in one day. That wasn’t the weird thing. The weird thing was that the moment Seth climbed on top of her, all Judith could think about was him. Miguel who?
These men were going to be the end of her. She was able to forget the other when she was with one, but right after it ended her brain was full of them both.
Miguel said he loved me. Seth had also said it, without words. Judith? She had told Miguel she loved him too!
The world was ending.
“Good,” Monica said, interrupting Judith’s thoughts. “Both men keep bidding on you. Do you know how high they’ve gone? They’re going to hit one hundred thousand soon. A month! Can you believe it?” Her smile was genuine, but her tone attempted to be subdued. The damn sub in her. “You’ve outdone yourself, Judith. You should be proud.”
“Yeah, I am.”
Monica dropped her smile. “What is it? You’ve been quiet all day.”
“Nothing. Just tired. I worked nonstop this weekend.” Monday was her Saturday. If it weren’t for the meeting, Judith would still be in bed, probably dreaming of her would-be patrons. That had been happening a lot lately. One minute she would be Miguel’s, and then the next she was with Seth, asking him to paint her like one of his French girls. Which was absurd. If either of them had French girls, it was Miguel. Judith was no Kate Winslet.
Yet Monica was one of the most intuitive women in the world. She knew the difference between tired and bothered like they were red and blue. “This will be over soon, and you’ll have a patron again. Although if you’ve decided on your preference, now is a good time to tell me. I’ve received word from Mr. Bolivar that he will be going back to Monaco for two weeks and may not be able to update his bids. He’s asked for leniency.” She chuckled. “I think he was close to offering a larger sum, but I reiterated that rules were rules. Only five thousand increments at a time. We build more buzz that way.”
“Like you’re not going to announce to the world how much I go for.” Judith sighed. “Sorry. I don’t mind. I’m… muddled.”
For as much as Monica attempted to be jovial, she could not keep up with Judith’s melancholy. “What’s going on? Did one of them do something?” She gently laid her hand on her desk, her soft pink nail polish glistening in the sunlight. “You need to tell me. You’re tough, I know, but…”
“It’s not like that.” Judith wasn’t about to let her boss think the best men to ever walk into her boudoir were up to nefarious things. I can handle myself. Judith had been on the brunt end of everything. Back when she had little protection and even less street-smarts… well, it was a good thing she had a knife in a couple of situations. “All I’ll say is that they’re not like my usual clients.”
No matter how neutral Judith tried to keep her demeanor, Monica could read anything. Everything. Bullshit and honesty alike. Why did Judith even try to keep things to herself around there? What was she afraid of? She was hardly the first woman in her situation.
“Judith,” Monica’s voice was terse. “Don’t do this to me. We need you. Keep your head in the game.”
She swallowed. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but it’s not like…”
“It’s inevitable that we’ll have another Sylvia, but I can’t bear the thought of it being you.”
Judith gasped, thrown back that her boss would ever compare her to that dumbass. Sylvia was one of the first girls hired at the Château. She was a sweet, natural submissive who was obsessed with 1920s flapper styling and culture, which annoyed Judith at first, until she accepted that it was an integral part of Sylvia’s silly identity. Clients loved it. Particularly the old school douche Mr. Carlisle, who became Sylvia’s patron shortly after the Château opened.
When Sylvia announced she was retiring from sex work to marry Mr. Carlisle, Judith hadn’t said anything, even though she saw the warning signs everywhere. Sure enough, a few weeks later Sylvia was back, having found out about her fiancé’s other fiancée’s around the world. The man was never going to marry her. All he did was lead her on and make her his mistress, free of charge. Sylvia had been so heartbroken, so distraught that she spent a whole month in her old room, refusing to exist. Then one day she was gone, moving to the west coast to start a new life.
The last Judith heard Sylvia was but a shell of who she used to be. Multiple arrests for prostitution and solicitation in the Pacific Northwest, as well as being linked with a nasty fellow who dabbled in assassinations, money laundering, and did one mention the murders?
How the mighty fall.
“Don’t compare me to her.” Judith kept her voice as terse as Monica’s. “I’m not that dumb. I’m going through some things. Once this patronage thing sorts itself out, I’ll be back on track. I’ve got goals I don’t intend on giving up. You can count on me.”
“That’s good, because I’m going to need you more than ever in these upcoming months. I need to know that you’re prepared to run the show while I’m gone. I want to secure your patronage by then so you’ll have a steady income to rely on while you focus your efforts on running the Château. It’s difficult to try both jobs at once. Don’t overdo it. The overall business comes before yours.”
“Got it, yes.” Judith knew how this worked. While she was in charge of the Château, she wouldn’t have much time for seducing new clients into her bed. She’d be too busy making sure the other girls were 24/7 dicked so they all got rich. “Trust me. I want this place to continue to succeed and grow as much as you do.”
“Excellent! Now, let’s get back to talking about those potential patrons of yours…”
“I’m afraid to ask.”
“I’m going to propose something unconventional. I’m going to suggest, if this bid war goes over $100,000, that they both put in a final offer, and the highest offer wins.”
“So a silent auction? Interesting.” Miguel would win. He’d put in like half a million dollars a month while Seth took the financially conservative route.
“Something like that. I want to ensure that both men bid as high as possible. That’s why I’m going to suggest you take a break from other clients for a short time and go away with them.”
“What? That’s a privilege for patrons only…”
“Yes, and you’ll be showing them what they can get for as much money as they’re willing to put down for you.”
Her ruthless businesswoman’s smile said that this was a fantastic plan. Judith wasn’t so sure about that. These men could take her anywhere in the world… and do whatever they wanted to her.
Like make her fall in love with them. The bastards.
Chapter 20
SETH
A family emergency called Seth away for more than a week. Namely, his grandmother, a crotchety old woman he hadn’t spoken to in years – and had no desire to speak to – passed away at the tender age of ninety. Between flying to his grandmother’s estate in Maine to attend a funeral and then hanging around long enough to find out whether or not he had inherited anything (he hadn’t) there wasn’t much time for a serious artist to work. Aside from playing phone tag with Joy, of course.
Seth was further kept away from home due to his mother deciding to have a heart-to-heart talk with her only child. Spurred on by his father, of course. The man who refused to talk
to him because he was as surly as his now late mother. Doctors. Seth was glad to be rid of that world.
“You’re entering your late 30s,” Mrs. Christens said more than once, as if Seth wasn’t aware of his age. “Don’t you think it’s time you settled down? Goodness, I’m not even demanding grandchildren – yet – but it would definitely be nice if you could at least have a wife sometime before I die like your grandmother.”
Didn’t know you planned on dying from a massive stroke that spited the devil himself. “Dating has never been my strongest suit. That’s where this conversation ends.”
Luckily for him, Mrs. Christens was a mousy pushover who would start things but never finish them. When Seth said the topic of him being attached was over, it was over. Thank God his father wasn’t around, though. That was the parent who always finished things.
Seth returned home to a messy studio and a bunch of unfinished paintings. Upon seeing them, he was filled with renewed fervor, and immediately called the Château to resume his activities with Judith.
He always thought about his mother’s words, whether he was with Judith or not.
For a month he kept up the same old pace. The bids were put on hold because the other worthless bastard Seth was up against had to leave the country for whatever business he pursued. What kind of star is he if they’re giving him that kind of privilege? Seth was ready to be done with the bids and simply call Judith his own. Twice a week he saw her, and twice a week he made endless love to her while refueling his creative abilities. She was more than his muse now. Seth never told her that he loved her – that was foolish, even for him – but he brought her heartfelt gifts every time he saw her. Flowers, pieces of simple jewelry, her favorite makeup from a shop called Sephora, which had a field day when he walked in, completely clueless and in way over his head. When he called Joy one day to get her female opinion on a red dress versus a black dress, she called him crazy and told him to send five more paintings before the end of the week.
His gallery opening in New York was shaping up to be a helluva event. It was opening Fourth of July weekend. Fewer than two months away, but who was counting? Seth remained in his artistic world of painting and scoring points with his muse. Every time they made love, whether it was fast and demanding or slow and sensual, he hoped he could convey every emotion he felt through nothing more than oil paints and canvas.
One Sunday afternoon at the end of May he came early to the Château, well aware that Judith wasn’t usually ready for him by that time. Indeed, he had gone early to speak with Monica about the gallery opening.
“…That’s why I would like to humbly ask that Judith accompany me to the event,” he said at the end of his spiel to the madam. Monica, who was so big she could barely get out of her chair any more, eyed Seth with neither suspicion nor trust. “I know it’s not what you usually allow, but I think it would be in your business’s best interest to promote the gallery with the model there. I’ll even pay for the pleasure of taking her away from here.”
“You’re right, it’s not something we would usually allow,” Monica said. “But you’re also right in that it would be good for business. You say it’s going to be at the Hoyt Gallery? A lot of high-profile people go to those things… it could well be a good way to advertise our business.” Dollar signs danced in her eyes. “How fortunate that you came to discuss such a thing with me today, Dr. Christens, for there was something I wanted to speak to you about as well.
She made a proposition that had Seth wondering if he were going deaf. Him? Take Judith out for an overnight date on a day of his choosing? It sounded too good to be true.
It was.
“The intent of this excursion is to allow you extra time to think about how much you want your final bid to be.” Monica had already explained that she would soon be asking for final offers of the bidder’s choosing. How much should I put in? Seth didn’t want to think about it. He would rather think about where to take Judith and what to do with her. Like a real couple – imagine that. “I would like to have this all wrapped up by the end of June. I’ll be going on maternity leave in July with Judith in charge of the Château. It’s my intention to have everything squared away by then, so she can focus on the business.”
Seth couldn’t argue with that. “How soon can I take her out?”
“Whenever you want after this next week. I haven’t heard back from the other prospect.”
Because he’s not as serious as I am. “I’ll let you know by the time I’m back Wednesday.”
When he finally went to see Judith, who waited for him in her room wearing nothing more than a pair of silk underwear, he instantly forgot that there was another man at all. How could she look at any other man with that smile? Seth was delusional enough to buy into that.
***
It didn’t take long for him to decide when he wanted to bring Judith to his home. Rain had swept through the city, and the weather forecast said all would be clear later in the week. Perfect time to do some sketches away from the Château.
After Judith confirmed it was satisfactory to her, Seth made further plans. He would be bringing Judith down on Thursday morning and taking her back up Friday evening, in time for a party she was scheduled to work. In order to make this easier on his driving skills, he arranged to stay the night on Wednesday. It was his first time staying overnight at the Château, let alone so late into the evening.
Their usual sketching and painting time started on schedule and lasted until supper, when Judith invited him to dine on the balcony overlooking the labyrinth. She wore a loose, rose-colored chiffon shift cinched with nothing more than a red leather belt. Servants brought their dinners of duck stew, imported Parisian bread, and salads sprinkled with truffle flakes. I feel like I’m eating at the wake again. His grandmother loved duck and truffles.
Although Judith remained casual in her posture and speech, there was a somber air hanging around her. When Seth asked what was bringing her down, she said, “Absolutely nothing. This is me being relaxed. You’ve simply never seen me eat before.”
“Do you always eat as if you’re about to be constipated?”
She stifled a laugh in her soup. “Do you so easily talk about constipation?”
“I used to be a doctor. I could tell you the most disgusting things about what I’ve seen and had to do in the delivery room. Depending on your stomach, of course.”
“Think I’ll pass. Save the taint-tearing war stories for another day.”
That’s only the tip of the iceberg. “Do you want kids, Judith?”
She looked at him as if he were nuts. “They don’t exactly fit my lifestyle. Don’t bring up my boss. She’s a special case, in every sense of the phrase.”
“Wasn’t going to.”
“Anyway, I can’t say I’ve ever felt the tug of motherhood. Who knows. Maybe one day. I’m in my thirties now, so if I haven’t felt it yet, I probably won’t. Right?” Was she really fishing for reassurance on that issue? She wouldn’t like Seth’s response. Do you know how many mid-40s first-time mothers I’ve seen?
“As a medical professional, I’m inclined to remind you that complications rise the older you become, but it’s never impossible.”
“Hmph. Thanks for the reminder.” Judith picked up a piece of bread and tossed it into Seth’s soup bowl. “Let’s talk about something else. Like what we’re doing tomorrow.” Her grin was infectious. How could Seth stop himself from joining in? “I haven’t been on a date in the city in a long time. Not since my last patron…” Her voice trailed off as she looked at the romantic setup on the balcony. “Hell, I haven’t even done something like this since that guy.”
“Who was it? Or can you tell me?”
Judith looked around, as if there were any servants there to eavesdrop and report back to the boss about broken NDAs. “Mitch Hutcherson. Do you know him? He’s from this county, not the city. Didn’t live too far from here until he moved to the Middle East for work.”
Seth searched hi
s brain for that name. “Doesn’t ring a bell.” That was a lie. He knew Mitch. They were one year apart in school.
What a small world. He kept his cool whilst imagining that boring asshole having sex with Judith. You can’t tell me he was good in bed. Seth didn’t often compare himself to other men like that, but he had to be assured that he pleasured Judith far more than Mitch Hutcherson. That guy couldn’t hang on to a girlfriend for more than three months. Even the secret son – whom Seth delivered years ago – with a mistress couldn’t have been from a joyful union. I would be so much better.
“You’re better in bed.” It was like she read his mind.
Seth snorted. “Much better, I’m sure.”
She smiled. “One of the best. You actually make me feel like you want to be with me.”
There went both of their smiles. “What do you mean?” Seth asked. “Of course I want to be with you. I wouldn’t be doing all of this if I didn’t.”
“You’re a rare breed, Dr. Christens.” Judith held up her wineglass for a toast. “Only you would come to a pleasure house looking to give one of the residents a good time.”
He held up his glass as well. “I can’t help myself. I see you and think about everything you deserve… and how I can give it to you.”
A tint of blush appeared on her cheeks, her sheepish look blooming into an awkward laugh as their glasses clinked.
They took their time that night, knowing that they had no deadline. A tour of the labyrinth took them past dusk, when the dim lamps turned on and insects buzzed in the air. Inside her room, Seth sat in her large lounge chair and regaled her with some of the milder medical stories he carried, while Judith sat at his feet, arms and head resting in his lap. Eventually she dozed off down there, and for a few minutes Seth was content to sit and stare at her vulnerable visage.