I told myself it was better this way. I shouldn’t see him, that seeing him would ruin the illusion of him I had in my head. This was better. I’d had the most amazing night, the best for my first time with a man who expected nothing, who had asked for nothing. That’s all I could ask for.
Nevertheless, him leaving without a word, without even a last kiss made my heart hurt. It made my chest heavy with the knowledge that my first time was with a stranger I never even had a conversation with, who I hadn’t even seen.
I cursed my nerves. Why had I been so stupid? Why hadn’t I sucked it up and let him remove the damn blindfold?
Part of me remained convinced I’d done the right thing. But the other part hated my cowardice.
Well, there was nothing for it, I decided. It was over and I would never see him. It was something I had to live with.
Accepting the facts, I found my slip. It was placed carefully over the foot of the bed, the shimmering white almost lost on the solid white of the duvet.
I pulled it on and padded to the door. I hadn’t been given instructions on what happened after. I had no idea what I was supposed to do.
“Hello?”
I felt stupid, but I wasn’t leaving the room in just a slip.
Something clicked behind me. It sounded so much like a gun being cocked that I spun to face it, curtain this whole thing was a scam and they were about to dispose of me, but a rectangular gap had opened in the wall and Louisa stood on the other side.
She offered me a brilliant smile. “There she is.” Ice pick heels cracked as she crossed the threshold and made her way to me in a dramatic sashay. “You, my darling pet, should be very proud of yourself. You have set the bar for every girl who ever will be or ever has been. You broke the record.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about snagging yourself a fine piece of dick. I hope he was worth it.”
I still had no idea what she was talking about, but it didn’t matter. She looped a thin arm through mine and propelled me in the direction of the hidden door.
“I have your clothes laid out for you,” she went on. “Get dressed and then I’ll take you to see Mr. Murray, who has your cut.”
Spurred, I ducked into the bathroom where Louisa had hung my clothes on hangers on the pegs behind the door. I dressed quickly, splashed some water on my face and combed damp fingers through my hair.
I looked like hell. My neatly done makeup was smudged in thick, black rings around my eyes. My hair needed a brush. I reminded myself of Frankenstein’s wife. But those were things that could be dealt with at home after a long, hot shower.
Louisa was waiting for me when I emerged. She gave me a toothy grin and motioned me in the direction of the auction room, but we stopped just after the stairs and knocked lightly on a door.
The man who answered could have been someone’s uncle with kind eyes and a genuine smile. He waved me inside.
“Ms. Thornton, it’s a pleasure. Please.”
I took the seat he offered me and waited for him to round the desk to his. Both hands were folded on top.
“How are you?”
I shrugged. “I’m all right, thank you.”
His smile widened. “Excellent. Excellent. You had a pleasant evening?”
I lost my virginity to a stranger. How did one classify that as a pleasant evening?
But I nodded. “It was fine.”
A few seconds of awkward silence passed between us.
“Well,” he drummed once on the table with his fingertips and sat back. “I’m sure you have places to be so I won’t keep you.”
From within a drawer, he extracted two envelopes. One was held out to me, and my heart clapped against my ribs. My fingers trembled when I reached to accept it.
I wasn’t sure I was supposed to open it there. Was it considered rude?
“Go ahead,” Mr. Murray urged with a grin. “Everyone does it.”
Decorum vanished and I ripped into the soft packet. My heart thumped between my ears in anticipation and uncertainty. I drew out the slip of paper nestled inside.
“Oh my god...”
All the sounds in the world dissolved to nothing but a chaotic rush of blood humming in my head.
“Is this...?”
“All yours,” he finished.
“All of this?”
Even to my own ears, my voice was a high pitched shrill of someone barely keeping herself contained.
“All,” Mr. Murray replied.
I had never seen so many numbers in a single place. I hadn’t even thought it was possible, yet I held the proof in my hands.
“Oh my god!” I choked again. “I made this just last night?”
Mr. Murray nodded. “Forty percent of one million from the auction. Plus fifteen thousand, six hundred for six hours.”
“Oh my...”
I stuffed the check back into the envelope and crammed it into my purse; I couldn’t look at it anymore. Not without wanting to throw up. The whole room had gone fuzzy. I couldn’t breathe.
“Ms. Thornton?”
A cold glass of water was pressed into my hands. I guzzled down half, bathed in the rest, but it helped.
“Did ... did you say one million?” I didn’t wait for his confirmation. “Why?”
Mr. Murray twisted the second envelope between his hands. “Some are simply generous.”
That wasn’t it. No normal, sane person paid that much for sex, not even virgin sex. Something had to be wrong with him.
“The man who ... who...”
“Paid for your time, yes?” Mr. Murray prompted.
“Do you know him? Is he ... safe?”
The man laughed as if the very idea was ridiculous.
“Our members are highly screened, Ms. Thornton. Their process is even more rigorous than the one we did for you.”
“I’m sorry. I just ... I wanted to thank him.” And see him again, but I wasn’t going to tell Mr. Murray that.
Mr. Murray squinted at me from across his immaculate desk. “You didn’t recognize him?”
That stopped me.
“Recognize? Why would I—?”
Realizing he’d made some kind of error, he shook his head. “I just mean it’s such a small city. People cross paths in the most unlikely places.”
I hoped not. God, if I ran into anyone I knew in that place, if anyone ever recognized me, I would ... I didn’t even know what I would do. I would die. I would dig a hole and bury myself in it. I couldn’t even stomach it.
“Did he say he recognized me?”
“No!” The drawer was opened and the letter was dropped back into it, and sealed. “Not at all. It was simple curiosity. But I think we’re done here. I just need you to sign here,” he pushed a piece of paper over to me with a pen. “It’s just to clear up that you were given your payment and you were satisfied.”
I signed and slid it all back to him. But I couldn’t shake the feeling rattling around inside me, a brewing of unease that trumped the glow of euphoria from receiving that check. Only I knew I couldn’t push him. He was already on his feet and moving towards the door.
“Mr. Murray, I know this is going to sound unorthodox, and I’m sure it goes against policy, but if the gentleman who I spent time with happens to come back, or you happen to talk to him and he asks, I don’t mind if you give him my number. I would appreciate it.”
Something like regret flicked over his lined features, and I knew what his answer was going to be before he opened his mouth.
“I’m sorry, but our policies are in place for a reason. He can request another meet, but—”
“He can do that?”
Mr. Murray nodded. “If he wishes to see you again, we can arrange for another meet.”
“How does that work?”
“He puts in the request. We call you and see if you’re interested. If so, we will arrange for a meeting here.”
I hesitated on my next question, not convinced it wouldn’t ge
t shot down. But the need to know was too great.
“The gentleman, is he a regular? Have you seen him before?”
I had to know if this was something he did often, buying girls at auction and spending the night with them. It wasn’t my business, and I knew I sounded like some love-sick stalker but I needed to know.
Mr. Murray pursed his lips. “I’m not at liberty to discuss such matters. However, I can assure you I have never met him before last night.”
It was ridiculous how much that comforted me. I knew there was nothing stopping him from coming back to find a girl with experience, a girl who didn’t cry afterwards. And that was his right. He hadn’t made me any promises.
After thanking Mr. Murray, I left the auction house. I didn’t see Louisa and I wondered if I ever would. She’d done her part. She prepped me and stayed as moral support. She was probably long gone.
It wasn’t until I was standing in the driveway that I realized I had no way of getting home. Louisa had brought me in a town car, but I was alone now.
I called a cab and waited, watching the play of autumn through the trees swaying over my head. The few leaves clinging on for dear life shivered in the crisp morning breeze. The sun turned the brown and orange transparent, giving off the illusion of standing inside a pumpkin. It made me feel like Cinderella.
Cinderella with four hundred fifteen thousand six hundred dollars just sitting at the bottom of her purse.
I wanted to take it out and look it over again. I wanted to take a picture of it. I wanted to huddle on the porch and cry. That money was the solution to so many problems. I could pay my tuition. I could finally catch up on my bills. I could move to a better apartment. It was a heady and surreal sensation wielding such freedom. Not once in all my life had I ever owned more than five hundred dollars to my name at any given time. Now, I had enough to do just about anything I wanted.
I couldn’t suck in enough air. I pressed my eyelids together and basked in the beautiful morning.
Only to have it shattered by the tinkling of flutes — my mother’s ring tune.
Seeing her name on the screen was a reminder that I had to go over for Sunday dinner in four hours. I’d nearly forgotten.
“Hey Mom.”
“Gabrielle, I’ve been calling you all morning. Where have you been?”
I was tempted to tell her I was working, but considering what I was really doing, calling it working made me feel dirty.
“Studying,” I decided to tell her. “Is everything all right?”
“Perfectly. I’m just calling to see if you wouldn’t mind parking on the road tonight. David thinks it would just be simpler.”
There was nothing simple about it. The road from the house was almost ten miles in the dark.
“Maybe I shouldn’t come,” I decided, stomach jittering with nerves and anger.
“Don’t be like that.” Mother’s sigh was drenched in annoyance. “You’ll just upset David. Don’t make this one of your things. Your car is unsightly. What would the neighbors think? David has a reputation to maintain. We all do.”
Then buy me a Lamborghini, I wanted to snap. Then maybe David’s precious reputation wouldn’t be in jeopardy.
But I didn’t. I swallowed the words like poison. Letting them kill me rather than ever spill into the world.
“How am I supposed to get there if I leave my car?”
“Don’t be difficult, Gabrielle. It’s a short walk.”
My mother, who hadn’t walked anywhere a day in her life, was no doubt judging the distance based on the length it took to drive. She probably couldn’t even find the house from the road on foot, even though it was a single stretch of dirt.
“Can I skip this one?” I asked. “I have a lot to study for and—”
“You’ll have to ask David, Gabrielle. You know how he feels about families on Sundays.”
But I’m not family, I wanted to point out. I’m a hindrance you created. The only reason David even tolerated my filth into his home was because I had something he wanted, because I was his property and he wanted to keep an eye on what he believed was his; he couldn’t risk not reminding me of my purpose and accidentally giving me hope.
Not attending was worse. There was never a good excuse short of hospitalization. It was always followed by a week of sitting on pins and needles terrified of what he might do to make me pay.
I was a performing circus monkey no matter what.
But I promised Mother I would attend and I would park on the road, away from the house so the neighbors almost twenty miles away through dense forestry wouldn’t see it parked outside the door.
The logic of that solution completely eluded me. People would see it more clearly on the road opposed to in the driveway, but I knew neighbors weren’t the real reason for the new change. I’d done something that had displeased him.
This was my punishment.
My cab arrived. The tall, thin Asian man knuckled his cap higher on his brow and squinted up at the estate through the window of the passenger side door. He didn’t ask, but I could see the question in his dark eyes when our gaze met in the rear-view mirror.
I settled against the rough leather and rattled off my address along with the route I wanted him to take.
There were two ways back to my apartment and only one would cost a small fortune. Even as it stood, I mentally matched the amount in my account with the escalating meter and realized I didn’t have enough for the full trip, but I would be close enough to walk the rest of the way.
He dropped me off four blocks from my building with an annoyed twist of his lips, but the moment he drove off, I turned off my regular path home and started in the direction of my other bank; having that check tucked away in my purse was causing havoc on my anxiety, not to mention my paranoia. I could have sworn everyone knew how much I was carrying and what I’d done to get it. I may as well have been holding a neon sign telling people to rob me.
Ridiculous. I knew that, but I still couldn’t help the nagging little voice wondering if that guy standing idly across the street on his phone hadn’t been hired by David to follow me. What if he knew? What if he was talking to David at that very moment, telling him what I’d done and where I’d been? Or worse, what if it had gotten back to him what I’d done? What if one of his friends had been at the auction? What if David himself had been there?
I couldn’t breathe. The world had shaken itself of oxygen and I was dying. I could feel the claws of dread closing around my lungs, turning my vision blurry.
Oh God, please...
The man suddenly straightened. His face broke into a wide grin as a pretty brunette jogged from my side of the street to his, also holding a phone to her ear. Both devices are hurriedly put away when the two came together in a passionate kiss.
I was nauseous and trembling all over by the time they walked away, arm in arm. My skin clung to fabric despite the chill. Hot and cold waves washed over me until I was sure I was about to faint. The world tipped and shivered around me in muggy ripples. I would have cried, except I didn’t have time. I needed to get the check deposited and I had a dinner to get ready for.
The bank was one I opened using my new identity, the one I kept in the safety deposit box in that very bank, just in case. It had cost a small fortune and nearly five years of under the table work on top of the jobs David did know about, but I eventually saved enough to pay a guy in my psych class to make me a new future, the same guy who ultimately told me about the auction, but he’d warned me not to use the new ID there.
“They are rigid as fuck, man.” His eyes had bulged and he’d shaken his head as if the very idea was horrific. “They don’t mess around with that shit. Open a bank, or something. Something small.”
So, I had. The first test of authenticity had been to open the account. It had passed, but not until after I’d sweated through my blouse.
The bank was three blocks from my apartment, close enough for convenience, but far enough that David wouldn’t su
spect anything. So far, he hadn’t and now, I had money and a fresh identity to start over in eight months. I just needed to wait until after I got my diploma. Then David and his stupid contract could go straight to hell.
The teller took one look at the amount on the check and promptly called her manager, who assured me it was quite common when the amount was so high. The check was verified while I stood there, praying to God they didn’t phone the police.
Nearly fifteen minutes later, my dusty little account had more money in it than it had seen since its creation and I had a small printout as proof of what I’d done burning a hole in my palm. I read it and reread it eight times before balling it up and tossing it into the trash, ignoring the little voice whining I keep it as a memento; the last thing I needed was for David to accidentally find it somehow.
I went home cocooned in a buttery hue of euphoria. My fingertips were vibrating, the nerves shot. I kept rubbing my thumb over them, hypnotized by the sensation. A giddiness tickled the inside of my belly, the reaction of a fizzy soda pop bubbling up my chest.
I wanted to laugh hysterically. I wanted to scream and dance like Snoopy. I wanted to do something crazy like rip off my skin, the only thing holding me, and run wild. But I did none of those things. I bit my lip and kept walking, not meeting anyone’s eyes in fear that they might see the brewing madness.
I was nearly free.
I was so close.
God, I could taste it like cotton candy dissolving on my tongue, leaving behind a lingering sweetness.
I could buy a new car, I thought. Nothing flashy or expensive, but David would ask where I got the money and I couldn’t afford to have him digging into my accounts and thinking I’d somehow stolen it, possibly even from him, or worse. He’d find a way to take it and I couldn’t let that happen.
That only meant one thing, I couldn’t let him think anything had changed. That meant pretending I was still struggling. Just the way he liked it.
I hated it.
I’d worked hard for that money.
I’d sold my pride and dignity for it.
I’d earned it.
But those things meant nothing. For as much as I had, David had more. He had power. I was no match against him. My life was complicated enough, hard enough. I didn’t need a war I had no hopes of winning. All I wanted was peace, a chance to be something more than just a mistake created by sin.
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