by Elle Everton
I nod. “That sounds good.”
She smiles. “It’ll take you a little while to find your own equilibrium — your own edges, as you say. But you’ll eventually figure out what you’re comfortable with.”
“I’m sure I will,” I say. And for the sake of my story, I’ll do whatever the hell I have to.
Ava drums her fingers on the desk again.
“I don’t usually do this, but I have a good feeling about you, Lila.” She reaches into her desk drawer and pulls out a stack of papers.
“We recently had a slot open up in next weekend’s auction. One of our girls —“ Ava’s face takes on a pained expression. She swallows. It’s the first time since I’ve been here that I’ve seen her look anything but a hundred percent poised.
She seems to recover, and she smiles at me.
“One of our girls will no longer be participating,” she says finally. “So we have an open spot. It’s yours, if you’d like it. You’ll want to read through these documents, outlining what your commitment entails, but essentially you would keep fifty percent of the total winning bid. Orchid will keep the other half. The agreement is for one month, and in this case, the gentleman has much more leeway with what he can request from you. As always, we do have measures in place to protect our girls, and certain activities are not permitted without signed consent from both parties, but … well, let’s just say it’s still not for the faint of heart. But for someone like you, Lila, someone interested in pushing their boundaries, it can be an extremely satisfying arrangement.”
“I’ll do it.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. “I mean… thank you.”
“Wonderful.” Ava smiles. She slides the stack of papers over to me. “The auction will be next Friday, though I’d like you to read and sign those papers and return them to me at least three days before that. For the auction, you’ll want to wear a black dress. The sexier the better, of course — after all, you’re selling a product here, right?”
She smiles, and I try to smile back. Selling a product … right. And I’m the product. I swallow.
“We also ask all our girls to wax before the auction,” she adds delicately. “Is that a problem?”
“Nope, not at all.” And I guess it’s not — I’m about to sell my body at an auction, just for a freelancing assignment, so waxing hardly seems like a big deal at this point.
“Excellent. Then I’ll see you next Friday — and don’t forget to drop off the contract. You can leave it with Remi if I’m not here.”
She reaches out her hand again and I lean across the glossy black desk to shake it. If Ava notices how much my palms are sweating, she doesn’t let on.
Chapter 3
Bennett
“Looking good, boys!” I shout as I adjust my hard hat. I stand back and survey my newest conquest — the plot of land that will eventually hold a 26-thousand square foot office building.
It was the deal everyone said couldn’t be done — too much red tape from the city, too many homeowners who refused to sell. But no one tells Bennett McCardiff that something can’t be done. Those words are like catnip to me.
So I had done it. Pushed through the paperwork. Bought out the homeowners, even the most curmudgeonly and set in their ways. Even bought one guy a winter home down in Florida just to get him to agree to the deal.
It was all worth it though. Because beyond the satisfaction of doing the impossible deal, I was soon going to be the developer who owned some of the hottest office spaces in the city. Those babies were going to go like hotcakes, and I’d be able to charge a pretty penny for them.
And if there’s one thing I like more than a challenge, it’s cold hard cash.
I guess that’s what happens when you come from nothing. I clawed my way to the top, and I savor every dollar I earn. Every hard-won victory. I may be a billionaire real estate developer now, but I wasn’t always, and I sure as fuck am never going to forget where I came from.
I gaze out over the construction site. We’re only on the fifth day of the project, but I can already see the way it will all come together. Like an artist considering their canvas, the developing ground is my portrait, my work of art.
I rest my hands on my hips and squint under the light of the sun and sigh contentedly.
“What the fuck are you over here daydreaming about? Always wasting company time.”
I spin on my heel, ready to lash out, but grin when I see Chad Aiken. Chad owns the construction company I’ve used to develop my last five projects, and over the past few years, he’s turned from a trusted contractor to a true friend.
“Hey, man,” I lean in for a brotherly type of hug and clap him on the back. “Just out here living the dream.”
“Don’t I know it,” Chad nods and points to the construction site. “Everything is running smoothly out here.”
“So far so good,” I agree. “Heard your guys are actually even a bit ahead of schedule.”
Chad nods and grins. “What can I say, I only hire the best.”
“So do I,” I say, clapping him on the back again.
We stand in silence for another couple minutes, watching the activity down below and listening to the sweet harmony of metal saws and the booming crane above us.
“You going to Orchid on Friday?” Chad finally asks, breaking the silence between us. “Auction night. I hear they have a couple of new girls.”
I scrub my hand over my clean-shaven jaw. Chad’s the only business partner I have who knows about my connection and membership to Orchid. In fact, he was the one who introduced me to it a couple of years ago.
“I don’t think so. I haven’t been really feeling the scene much lately. I’ve been a little consumed by other things these days,” I say with a grin, gesturing out to the job site.
“All the more reason you need to loosen up a little,” Chad says good-naturedly. He’s always telling me I’m too uptight, but I didn’t get where I am by being a slacker. I play to win, regardless of what I’m doing.
Speaking of winning …
“Is Sam going to be there?” I ask, trying to sound nonchalant.
Chad chuckles. “Of course he will. When are you going to give this up, Bennett?”
“When Sam Baines is broke. Or dead.”
Chad shakes his head. “Got it.”
Anger bubbles up inside me. It’s the same anger I feel every time I think of Sam Baines. My blood runs hot at the sound of his name. My heart races and my fists clench.
I fucking hate that guy. He runs a competing real estate development company, and for years we’ve been warring over properties. There’s no low Sam won’t stoop to in order to the get the deal. I hate to admit, but it takes everything I have to stay ahead him. The fucker’s smart, I’ll give him that, which makes it all the more satisfying every time I crush him.
In fact, he’s one of the people who’d given up on this North Haven development. Sam Baines couldn’t do it — but Bennett McCardiff could. I hadn’t seen him since the deal had been finalized; it would feel good to finally rub my victory in his face.
“Friday, you say?” I ask Chad, and he nods.
“I’ll think about it.”
And I do. I think about it — and Sam Baines — all fucking week. Because if there’s an auction, that means Sam will try to outbid me. It won’t matter if he really wants the girl or not, he’ll bid on her just to outbid me.
Of course, I’d do the same thing to him.
Sam Baines is my arch nemesis in every sense of the word. He’s the cockroach you can’t get rid of, the perpetual thorn in my side, the prick that won’t fucking quit.
I’d been a member at Orchid for almost two whole glorious years before he joined. I still remember the first night I saw him there — I almost kicked the shit out of him. Orchid had been the one place I didn’t have to think about him, and then there he was, smirking at me over a glass of scotch. What a bastard.
By Friday, I still haven’t decided whether or not to
attend. I knock off at five — I’d work later if it were up to me, but I like to make sure everyone on site gets to leave right at five since I know what they do is pretty backbreaking stuff. And unlike me, most of them have families to get home to.
I head home and leave my black Audi parked crossways in my driveway, just outside my multi-car garage, and head inside the Malibu mansion I call home. I’ve barely spent any time here lately, and even though I use a minimalist design throughout, the space somehow feels emptier than usual.
I head to the huge gourmet kitchen and toss my keys down on the white marble island in the center of the room. I pull a beer out of the fridge, savoring the soft hiss and pop it makes as I crack it open. I take a long swallow.
When’s the last time I got laid? I wrack my brain as I wander back into the sparsely decorated main sitting area. The fact that I even have to ask myself that question — never mind the fact that I can’t remember the answer — is alarming in itself. I love women, and I fucking love sex, and I usually have no problem getting either. Lately, though, I’ve been so focused on the development project that I haven’t sought out much of either.
I pause in front of the wall-sized fish tank that separates my entertaining area from the foyer. My angelfish dart back and forth through their paradise, streaks of color that cut through the teal water. It must be nice to be like them, I think. To not have a care in the world. To have everything you could ever need just handed to you.
I sigh. Maybe Chad was right — I do need a break. A distraction. And the auction girls are great because there’s no commitment, no expectations. They’re yours for the month — as much sex as you want, and they don’t care if you don’t call them the next day. They also don’t get the wrong idea if you decide you want to take them out for a nice dinner; no one enters this arrangement expecting a diamond and a forever. It’s pure sex, as kinky as you want it.
Not that my tastes run all that kinky. Maybe a little spanking here and there, some blindfolding or light bondage. It’s the nature of the auction relationships that I like — a man like me doesn’t have time to get tied down, and I can’t stand it when women think you have feelings for them just because you shared an amazing fuck.
I set my empty beer bottle down on the island. I’ve decided — I’m going to the auction tonight. And screw Sam Baines or anyone else who tries to outbid me.
When I pull into the Orchid’s parking lot, my mood immediately sours.
Of course. Of fucking course.
Sam Baines is parking his yellow Ferrari in one of only a couple empty spots. What kind of grown man drives a yellow Ferrari? It’s fucking ridiculous.
The only other available spot is right next to him, so I reluctantly — but smoothly — pull in.
“Well, well, well,” Sam says cheerfully, as I climb out of the car. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Can’t believe you’re still driving that fucking Hot Wheel,” I tell him, shaking my head. “You know what they say about guys who drive Ferraris, right?”
“That we’re sexy beasts?” he quips easily, never losing his grin.
“No. That you’re overcompensating for a small dick.”
“Huh,” Sam says, looking in surprise from me to his car and back to me again. “You know, I’ve never heard that before, Bennett. Thanks.”
The sarcasm drips from his voice.
I shake my head and start towards the club.
“What’s the rush?” he calls out, following quickly behind me. “Planning to get a good seat for the auction? You know you won’t outbid me.”
I scoff and let out a laugh that sounds more like a bark. “While I know you have a quick wrist — years of practice jerking off, I’m sure — I’ll be the one raising my hand with the winning bid.”
“Wow,” he says grinning, as we come to the front door. “What’s it like?”
“What?”
“To live in such a dream world?”
I roll my eyes, but Sam’s already pulling open the entrance door. Of course, he doesn’t hold it for me, so it bumps into my shoulder as I enter behind him.
“You better watch your fucking back tonight, Baines,” I breeze past him, fuming. Heat is rising in my cheeks but thankfully since we’ve already made it into the dark interior hallway, it’s not something that Sam notices.
“Is that a threat?” Sam says from behind me, as we head to the main door. I reach for my wallet to dig out my membership card so I can swipe it against the scanner. “Because if so, it’s fucking adorable.”
I stiffen, but I refuse to turn around. This is why I fucking hate Sam Baines. Everything is a joke to him. From the car he drives to the way he conducts his business. The guy never really had to work for anything in his life, and he takes everything for granted.
I swipe my card and pull the heavy door open. I feel more at ease as soon as I step into the club. The soft purple lighting and light R&B playing in the background are a perfect contrast to the electric buzz of the crowd. Auction night is always fun, even if you aren’t here to buy.
I immediately ignore Sam once we’re inside, and instead head over to the bar. Sadie is working, which isn’t a surprise. She pretty much runs this place.
“Hey Bennett, long time no see,” she greets me with a smile.
“Hello Sadie — been busy lately. Hoping to blow off a little steam tonight.”
“You and everyone else in town, it seems,” she says with a smile. I look around — yes, the place definitely seems to be more packed than usual.
“Big night, huh?”
“Ava’s got a few new girls up there tonight. She’s been pitching them hard. She says you guys are in for a real treat.” She shakes her head. Sadie’s not part of the scene, so I think she finds the whole thing sort of incredulous, but she takes her job seriously and things always run smoothly when she’s working. I know she and Ava are pretty tight because I once accidentally walked in on them and saw Sadie crying on Ava’s shoulder. I noped out of there real quick — it was pretty clearly a private moment — but ever since then Sadie and I have had a sort of mutual respect for each other.
“The usual?” she asks me now, already taking down a bottle of their finest scotch from the glass shelf behind her.
“Please.”
I like it neat, no ice, and I need it now more than ever. As Sadie pours my drink, I steal a glance back down the bar at Sam. He’s talking to one of the dancers, engaging her with what I’m sure is one of his lame pick-up lines. Strangely, she seems to be enjoying it, because she’s smiling and laughing. I shake my head.
“Here you go,” Sadie says, sliding my drink in front of me and drawing my attention away from Sam. She glances over in the direction I was looking. “Don’t worry — lots of girls to choose from tonight. No point in getting bent out of shape about one.”
I start to correct her, to tell her that it isn’t the dancer I’m focused on. But it sounds stupid to say that I’m spending this much energy dwelling on a guy I can’t stand. I’m not completely moronic — I know my hatred of Sam is mostly irrational.
“I’ll drink to that,” I say instead, and take a large swallow of the amber liquid.
Chapter 4
Lila
Breathe, Lila. Breathe. That’s the mantra I keep repeating to myself. I run the brush through my hair over and over, hoping it will calm me and let me focus on something other than my anxiety, but all it does is make my hair more frizzy.
This is happening. This is really happening. In about — I glance at the clock again — twenty-seven minutes, I’m going to be on a stage in the middle of The Orchid Room, selling off my body to the man who can bid the most money.
The reality of what was I doing really started to set in yesterday, when I tried on my black dress and silver stilettos in front of my bedroom mirror. That was the moment I realized that men were going to judge me and decide whether or not, or how much, they were willing to pay to fuck me.
I’d been a mess of nerves all nigh
t. I don’t think I slept a wink, so of course, I made up for it today by drinking about six cups of coffee during my shift at Earl’s.
Now, sitting in the back room of Orchid, surrounded by a dozen other girls all getting ready for the same thing I am, my hands won’t stop shaking. I grip my hairbrush and try to hold it steady in my lap. My fingers twist around it so hard my knuckles go white.
This feels so real now — too real. What in the hell was I thinking?
I was thinking of the article, I remind myself. This could be a huge story. Caroline had told me that her editors weren’t expecting me to make it onto the auction block — that was the big leagues — yet here I am. This story could launch my whole career.
“First time?”
The voice comes from beside me, startling me out of my reverie.
“Sorry?” I say, eying the girl who’d spoken. She’s about my age, but thin as a rail, and she has long silver white hair that flows down her back. Her eyes are rimmed in thick black eyeliner.
“It just looks like it might be your first time,” she says, with a sweet smile. “Given that you’re about to murder that hairbrush.”
“Oh,” I exhale, laughing nervously. “Yeah. It’s my first time. What about you?”
“Twelfth.”
Shit. Twelve times? I try to keep the surprise off my face.
“I know. Sounds crazy. But I treat it like a job, you know? I’m Sky, by the way.”
Sky. The name suits her, somehow. She has an ethereal sort of beauty that I have a hard time looking away from.
“Hi Sky. I’m Lila.”
“Well, don’t worry, Lila” she says, still wearing the same sweet smile. “Most of the guys here are decent. Some are nicer than others, of course, but Ava vets them all personally and she keeps the real creeps out.”