by KyAnn Waters
“I appreciate your kindness. I realize now what an inconvenience I’ve caused. I assure you, it wasn’t my intention. I’m simply desperate for a way to earn money.” Allison folded her hands in her lap. “I don’t know what I was thinking.” She flicked an imaginary speck of dirt from her skirt.
Maybe she never should’ve left Boston. At some point, after she’d given Henry children, marriage to him would’ve become bearable. Money equaled power; the Oakdale’s had both. But still… “I never should have come here.”
“You’re no different than anyone else. We all need to make our way somehow. You’ll think more clearly in the morning after you’ve slept.”
She didn’t want to explain Boston, Henry, or the direness of her predicament. Tomorrow TJ Bester would barely be an acquaintance. What benefit would there be in sharing her burden? “Actually, I am tired.” She covered her mouth as she yawned. “And I suppose if I’m to be honest, I knew it was unlikely you’d have a position for me.”
“Don’t worry about it. It takes a lot of mettle to take a chance. If you were a man, I’d probably find a place for you.” He swallowed the last of his drink. “I’ll build a fire in the guest room so you can get some sleep.”
“That’s not necessary. I don’t want to impose any more than I have. I can sleep without a fire.” She started to follow him out of the room.
“Stay put. I’ll be a few minutes and it’ll take some time for the room to warm.” Without a sound, his stocking feet took him up the stairs.
It was several minutes later when TJ touched her shoulder, startling her. “Ready?”
Allison leapt off the couch. She didn’t want to admit TJ made her heart skip a beat. Handsome men had spoken with her before, and she had never felt weak in the knees. Of course, there was always the exception, such as at the train platform with this very same man.
Here was a man with a wife, a family, and a successful ranch. Yet, alone with him, this large room closed in on her. Wherever he stood, the warmth of his body touched hers. Never had she been so keenly aware of a man.
Allison picked up her bag and followed him up the stairs. “Your home is beautiful.”
“My wife’s responsible for that. She told me what she wanted and I built it.”
“You built this house?” The arched ceilings reminded her of the smooth underside of a boat. “I’ll be sure to tell her what lovely taste she has.”
“We get up early around here.” He opened the bedroom door. “I don’t know who’ll be driving you back to town. Be ready by sunup because whoever gets the privilege is going to want to get an early start.” There was a note of sarcasm to his tone.
Allison walked into the room. “Mr. Bester?” She stood a few feet in front of him holding her bag. “Are you sure there’s no work around here that would be suitable for me? Perhaps your wife would like help around the house. I love to do laundry and clean floors.” If she couldn’t change his mind, tomorrow she would definitely be in a new line of work by sundown.
“My wife doesn’t like other women in the house. Good night, Miss Lake.” He softly closed the door.
Chapter Three
The following morning, back in Copper City, Allison sat in a restaurant across the street from a large brothel. Business appeared to be a booming at the Dusty Rose. Men entered with alarming regularity. Was the work split between many women at the establishment or just a few? Her head spun with the severity of her situation. Granted, the money would be better if a girl stayed busy, but the amount of men overwhelmed if there were only a few whores. How many men could a woman service in a day? Didn’t she get tired?
Could she do it? Could she lay down with men for money? Since she didn’t have a place to stay, didn’t have much money left, she was out of options. Trying to look as pleasing as possible, she left the top button of her blouse undone. With an awkward sway of her hips—is this really how women entice men?—she crossed the street to do the unthinkable. “I will not cry. I will not cry,” she repeated softly to herself, walking into the building.
Smoke hung heavy in the air. Men milled about. Some sat with women in comfortable looking chairs covered with red and royal purple velour. Breasts overflowed from corsets. One man had his hand on the exposed flesh of a woman’s calf as her legs draped across his lap. Bronze statues of naked woman adorned small square tables set in each corner. Wallpaper with an ornate pattern of vines and leaves had turned from a blend of copper and gold, to a mustard yellow and rust. It was beginning to peel around the ceiling and window edges.
Enticing women flaunted their bodies while serving drinks to men sitting at tables smoking cigars and laughing loudly. A girl made her way upstairs. How long before she’d be back for another customer? They didn’t pay whores to talk.
A pretty, blond girl tossed her head back and laughed when a man, dirty from the mines with a wiry black beard, slapped her on the fanny and pushed her toward the stairs. “See to my needs, little lassie,” he said with a thick Irish accent. Several men had thick drawls. Their laughter rumbled around the room.
“Can I help you?” a raspy voice asked. “You look like you’re in the wrong place.”
Allison caught her reflection in a large sconce mirror hanging on the wall. She gasped at the pasty image. Now that she was here, she wanted to be home married to Henry having his arrogant children and living a miserable life. She couldn’t do this.
Never did she imagine life in the West would be a disappointment. Of course, there were jobs. Cooks, seamstresses, librarians, and schoolteachers. But alas, more people were coming into town than there was work for them to do. She was a few weeks away from turning eighteen, without any experience. And if she wasn’t careful, she wouldn’t have this as a possibility either.
“Honey? Are you looking for someone?” the woman asked. “Hello, you do talk, don’t you?”
“I don’t…” Allison looked around wildly. “I…” She broke into tears.
“Oh dear, come with me.” The woman took her by the arm and led her down a long hall and into a private room. “This is the third time this week I’ve had a girl break into tears in my parlor at the thought of becoming a whore.”
The room had a large desk sitting in the center. In contrast to the parlor, in this room the walls were covered with beautiful paintings and satin cloth. The effect was very elegant. Black, oriental cabinets inlaid with designs of birds and plants lined one wall.
“My name’s Sandy.” She handed Allison a hankie. “Dry your eyes. Tell me your name and what you’re doing here.”
Although Sandy was older than most of the women sitting in the parlor, she was still very attractive. Hair the color of a setting sun in the fall was piled high on her head. Her ample bosom barely contained in a red corset. Black fabric cascaded over the curves of her hips draping to the floor. A sheer robe, belted at the waist, wrapped around her shoulders and fell open at her legs.
Allison sniffed a few times. “I came to Copper City about a week ago. I didn’t expect it to be so expensive. But I couldn’t stay in Boston and now I just want to go home.” She started to cry again.
Sandy sat on a heart-shaped sofa with heart-shaped throw pillows. “And you’ve come to ask for money? I’m a business woman, honey. Why would you think I would give you anything?”
“Oh no,” she said, horrified. “I would never beg for money.”
“Then what do you want?” Sandy stood, causing her silk robe to balloon and sway as she retrieved a cigarette off the desk.
Allison had never smoked tobacco. Sandy licked her lips, puckered her mouth drawing attention to the thin wrinkles, and inhaled deeply. The tip glowed red. Sandy held the smoke momentarily, finally exhaling on a sigh.
“I need a job.”
Sandy burst into raucous laughter, causing her milky brown eyes to sparkle. “And what would a prim little girl like you do in my brothel? You don’t look like you have any experience with men.” She walked a wide circle around Allison looking at her from every angle. “You�
�re pretty enough, but men who come in here don’t require a woman to be beautiful as long as she’s attentive.” Her smile, filled with mirth, caused her to cough.
Nervous under Sandy’s scrutiny, Allison’s fingers fidgeted with the fabric of her dress.
“What’s your name?” Sandy asked.
“Allison.”
“So Allison, you want to be one of my girls?” Sandy sat behind her desk. Slipping on her reading glasses, she said, “I think you ought to know what I’ll expect.” She extinguished her cigarette into a polished copper ashtray. “We’re busy and not just in the evenings. Sometimes the girls do more business during the day than they do at night. My doors never close. If a man comes in and wants to see you at four in the morning on a Sunday and you’ve only been asleep for an hour, wake up. You’re going back to work.”
She leaned back in the chair and stretched like a cat. Allison remained standing in the center of the room. “Sit down. You’re making me uncomfortable,” Sandy instructed and then continued. “It’s hard work, Allison. Maybe you think it’s glamorous. It’s not. Most of the men are not knights in shining armor. Some are dirty and most of them stink from the mines.” Her deep, whiskey intonation lost all trace of humor.
Allison finally found her voice. “Or maybe most of the girls in here are just like me. I didn’t have a choice when I left home. Now I’m here, and I have nowhere else to go. Does anyone choose this profession?”
“Surprisingly, yes. A few are like myself and enjoy men. I could never be a farmer’s wife. I’m a preacher’s daughter. But you’re right, most of the girls are uneducated, and then they find themselves here, and aren’t quite sure how it happened.”
Allison sat in the chair across from the Sandy. “I know exactly why I’m here, to have sex with men for money. Every girl has a first time. I’m sure mine will be no different. I knew when I walked through the door that this was a brothel. I’m fully aware that I’m asking you to give me a job as a whore. Will I like doing it? I hope not,” she said, disgusted.
“All right.” Sandy held up her hands. “You’ve sold me. I want you to watch the other girls tonight. This might not be something you can do.”
“How much money will I make?” Allison’s cheeks warmed just saying the words.
“Depends on you. Do you have any experience?”
Allison shook her head.
“I assume your mother explained a few things?”
“My fiancé made sure I knew what was expected from a wife. I know about the intimacies between a man and a woman.”
“Fiancé?” She was shaking her head. “I don’t need a husband storming through my doors.”
“Ex-fiancé. He is far from here and won’t be coming for me.”
Sandy hesitated. “Learning there’s more to sex than the basics won’t take you long. But you’re concerned with the money.” Sandy sighed and lit another cigarette. “I provide a place for you to sleep, food for you to eat, and I provide the customers. Without my name and reputation, this place is just another brothel. You’re here because you know this is a clean establishment.
“My girls are the cleanest and the most attentive, and I’ll expect the same from you. I’ve been in this business for a long time and I’m fair. I take seventy-five percent of everything you earn. I’m responsible for the upkeep on the building, and I hire security. You won’t have to worry about feeling the force of a man’s fist. No one has ever been beat up in my brothel. I have a contract you’ll need to sign.”
Sandy walked around the desk and took Allison by the elbow. “I’m going to talk to Marion. I want her to show you around. You can sleep in her room tonight. In the morning, if you still want the job, we’ll assign you a room and get you fitted for a new wardrobe.” She leaned in close to Allison’s ear as they walked down the hall. “I pay for that, too. Marion is about your size. See if she’ll loan you something for tonight.” Sandy looked at Allison’s much smaller breasts. “You’re far too slender to fit anything of mine.” Sandy laughed causing her extended bosom to nearly spill from her corset. “Allison, honey, in this line of work you’re going to have to develop a sense of humor.” She looked at Allison’s breasts again. “If nothing else.”
* * *
Laughter echoed through the halls. Women fawned over men. And men consumed liquor. Either the whores should have gone into the theater, or they were actually having a good time. Allison wanted to laugh again, instead she felt like crying.
The first time would be the hardest. A stranger who wasn’t aware she was a virgin might not show her gentleness. She wanted tenderness and love, but knew the men who visited whorehouses weren’t looking for long-term relationships. They didn’t care about conversation and they surely weren’t going to hold her hand. Tomorrow she would be set apart from a life as a wife and mother. What man would want a whore for anything more than a night of sex?
“Sandy?” Allison gently tapped on the office door.
“Come on in, honey.”
Allison entered and closed the door behind her.
“Change your mind already? Well, don’t worry if this work isn’t the life for you. You’re a good girl and you’ll make some lucky man a proper wife. Going to have a couple of little ones too, I’ll bet?” Sandy winked and her ruby-red lips tilted slightly higher.
“I haven’t changed my mind.” Allison sat in a chair and tried to cover her bosom with her arms. Giving up, she folded her hands in her lap. The dress Marion had given her to wear was low cut. “The girls are laughing and smiling. Everyone seems happy.”
“Most of the girls here have been in the business a long time,” Sandy said. “I suppose if they didn’t like it, they wouldn’t still be doing it. Hell, even I still see a couple of regulars. Although most of the time, I socialize in the lounge. Once this business is in your blood, it’s hard to walk away. There aren’t very many places to go from here, Allison, make sure this is what you want.”
“I don’t want to be here. I’m out of money and out of options.” Allison was quiet for a moment. “I’m scared, Sandy.” She blinked tears from her eyes. “I’ve never—” She didn’t have to finish the sentence.
“We have ways of seeing that your discomfort is minimized before you take a man to your room, or I can make sure your first time is with someone who’ll be gentle. Although,” she said with raised eyebrows. “You could get a lot of money. Men will pay more for a virgin.”
Her stomach churned. “I know. That’s why I wouldn’t want them to know. I don’t want to be auctioned off to the highest bidder.”
“Enjoy yourself tonight. Tomorrow will take care of itself. But listen, you let me know if you see someone who sparks your interest.”
“What if no one wants to be with me?”
“Don’t you worry. You’ll feel eyes on every part of you tonight. Don’t be afraid. Smile, laugh, try to get comfortable with attention from men.” Sandy grinned. “After you discover the pleasure of a man, you’ll grow to anticipate it. Some know just how to stir a woman.”
She knew exactly what Sandy spoke of. Just thinking about Mr. Bester caused lightness in her stomach. She might just have to imagine every man she took to her bed looked like the rugged Montana man.
* * *
The next night, Allison spent an extra few minutes looking in the mirror. She wore her hair like the other girls. With the sides combed back and held with a clip, her hair cascaded down her back. A few ringlets framed her face. She finished the look with a touch of Marion’s pink rouge and a bit of red tint on her lips.
Until her clothing could be made, she borrowed a few pieces from everyone to give herself an assortment of feathers, lace, and silk. Tonight she wore a crushed velvet, burgundy camisole. Sheer black lace billowed from the slit up the front of the matching skirt. A string of glass beads draped her neck.
“Are you ready?” Marion came into the room. Her shiny, black hair fell to her waist. “We’re busy,” she said, excited. Lashes, long and black, framed a
lmond-shaped eyes. “I saw this man last week, and he said he’d be back to see me.” She squealed and sat in front of her vanity to freshen her make-up. Although with her olive complexion, it wasn’t necessary. “I just saw him downstairs.” She blotted her lips and went to the washbowl. “Damn.” She turned to Allison. “I’m out of water. He can’t see me until I’m ready. Will you run for me?”
Allison took the water pitcher. “Of course. I’m not ready to be seen yet either. This will give me something to do.” Allison left the room and returned a few minutes later.
“Thank you,” Marion said gratefully, taking the pitcher and then filling the basin.
“You’re this excited to see him? Isn’t sex mundane by now?”
Marion rolled her eyes in a playful manner. Then she took off her dress. “He smells good, dresses well, and has a big cock.”
Allison blushed.
Marion laughed. “After a while, men all look the same. Then a man comes in that sets him apart. Frank makes love…with rigorous passion.” Marion splashed water under her arms and between her legs. Then she quickly dried and applied scented powder to her skin. “If someone gets to him before I do…” She let the statement hang.
“Go then.” Allison pushed her toward the door. “I’ve finished moving my things to the other room. I’ll clean up in here, change the water, straighten the bed, and pick up the clothes. Give him a drink and give me ten minutes.”
“Are you sure?”
Allison nodded.
“Allison, I’m so glad you’ve joined us.” She lightly kissed her on the cheek. “I think you’re stalling. You can’t avoid the inevitable. There always has to be a first. I know Sandy is watching for someone who’ll be gentle. Taking a man to bed isn’t love. It’s work. And once you’re a whore, you’ll never be anything else. Why don’t you find some handsome cowboy to give your virginity to? Then the choice is yours. Just avoid the miners. They smell and are too tired to put in any effort.”
“It doesn’t matter. I won’t be with someone I love.”