Gigolo Girl

by Layce Gardner

  Greta stared after the bus, the gray stench from its tailpipe making her eyes water even more.

  Candy Sweet

  “Ouch!” Candy Sweet said, trying to pull her long corn-rowed hair out from under Desiree’s foot. She was soaking her sore muscles in the hot tub at the health club and flirting with the woman across from her. That was her idea of multi-tasking.

  “So sorry,” Desiree said in a tone that clearly said she was not sorry in the least.

  “Why’d you pull on my hair?” Candy Sweet said, straightening her wig.

  “Your hair?” Desiree said.

  “I paid for it. That means it’s mine.” Candy Sweet only wore wigs. No one had ever seen her actual hair. Desiree wondered if she was bald, but had never worked up the courage to outright ask.

  “Did you forget our number one rule?” Desiree asked, cutting her eyes at the woman in the tub across from Candy Sweet. “No freebies.”

  She’d found Candy Sweet in the whirlpool making moves on a cute little brunette with shapely shoulders. All of Honey Belle’s girls worked out at Heavenly Bliss’s Gym.

  Honey Belle owned the gigolo girl service that Desiree and Candy Sweet worked for. Honey’s Belle’s twin sister, Heavenly Bliss, owned the gym. Back in the day, the sisters had worked the streets together before they became responsible business owners.

  Candy Sweet was Heavenly and Honey’s niece. Heavenly Bliss had raised her as her own daughter when Candy Sweet’s mother died of a heroin overdose.

  Candy Sweet was beautiful, her skin the color of molasses, her eyes large as half dollars and black as a starless night. She had powerful thighs and an ass that made women want to get on and ride. Candy Sweet considered her ass her best feature. Desiree thought it was her tits but that was her opinion. Candy Sweet said all big-breasted women had cleavage but a finally shaped set of buttocks was an asset known only to a few. Desiree always felt a little intimidated about her own ass around Candy Sweet. Desiree worked her buttocks hard but they did not have the fine curves of Candy Sweet’s.

  “I wasn’t giving no freebies. This here’s Terre as in French Terre and I’m just giving her work out tips,” Candy Sweet said testily.

  “Terre as in dirt?” Desiree said. This girl was about as French as Desiree was Finnish. “Parlez vous Anglais?” she asked the girl.

  “Duh,” the girl said, with a strong Texas accent. “I was born and raised right here in Bon Chance.”

  “So what’s with the French shit?” Desiree asked.

  “It’s called role play,” Candy Sweet said, “And you’re ruining it.”

  Desiree rolled her eyes. Candy Sweet had a thing for stage-sex. She had the clientele for it too. They played dress-up and then had sex.

  “So, you are working a freebie, ha!” Desiree said.

  “No, I’m practicing,” Candy Sweet said.

  Heavenly Bliss’s voice thundered from across the gym, “Candy Sweet! You get your ass out of that hot tub before the black soaks off of you. I told you once if I told you a thousand times boiling yourself in chemicals like that is bad for your complexion. Now get out of there this minute!”

  “But…” Candy Sweet started to say.

  “Don’t make me put my purse down,” Heavenly Bliss said, waggling her forefinger.

  Candy Sweet reluctantly rose out of the hot tub. Despite Heavenly Bliss not holding a purse, they all knew what she meant and nobody but nobody ever crossed Heavenly Bliss and lived to tell about it.

  Just A Gigolo

  “I saw your ad in the Bon Chance Bugle and I’m here to interview for the job,” Mildred said.

  Desiree looked up from where she was sitting at Honey Belle’s desk flipping through a Victoria’s Secret magazine. She liked to keep up on the latest lingerie styles. What she saw when she looked up made her mind go gaga. Her usually logical and trustworthy brain began to chase its own tail.

  Mildred was, quite simply, the sexiest thing Desiree had ever seen. Long blond hair with natural highlights curled over her shoulders. She was wearing jeans shorts and a red-checked halter-top. Desiree thought she looked like Ellie May Clampett. No, that wasn’t quite right. She looked more like Daisy Duke. No, that wasn’t right either. She looked like a vision of sexiness and loveliness and softness all rolled up into one tasty woman burrito.

  “Job?” Desiree asked. Her brain still hadn’t caught up to her eyes.

  “Yes, ma’am. It said in the paper that you all were looking for a trainee. It said to have a pleasing personality. I will admit I don’t know a thing about trains, but I know plenty about pleasing people.”

  “I’m sure you do,” Desiree said, putting the magazine aside. “Have you ever worked as a…er… done this type of job before?”

  “I don’t rightly know, but the way I was cogitating it, everybody has to start somewhere, so I figured I could make up for anything I don’t know with some good ol’ fashioned elbow grease ‘cause I’m a real quick study. You could put me on probation and hire me on permanent-like after I proved myself. You know, if I turned out to be good at it. What exactly is it ya’ll do here?” Mildred said in one long breath.

  Is this for real? Desiree thought. Who was this country bumpkin standing here looking oh-so-sexy but stupid? “You’re not from here, are you?” she asked.

  “No, ma’am, I’m not. I hail from Terrence. It’s a little bitty town down south of here. And, well, you see, I’ve been down on my luck. My ex took the egg money and the chickens and ran off with somebody else.”

  “Your ex stole the egg money? You had a chicken ranch?”

  “Yes, ma’am, on both accounts.”

  “Your ex sounds like an asshole.” What she actually sounded like was Desiree’s ex-girlfriend. Thankfully, she didn’t have to worry about that any longer. This job didn’t allow for girlfriends. Oh, you could have a girlfriend, it wasn’t against company policy—Honey Belle’s reach only went so far—it was a matter of finding a woman that allowed you to fuck other women. That type of understanding girlfriend was in short supply.

  “That’s the truth,” Mildred said with a giggle. “May I sit down? My dawgs are barking something awful. I knew I shouldn’t have walked all this way, but I wanted to save my cash to find a place to stay tonight.”

  “Your dogs are barking? Are they downstairs in the lobby?” Desiree couldn’t see how Jabbar Punjab, the doorman, would allow dogs in the lobby. He was a querulous, persnickety little man. In his country animals – all animals – were outside creatures. He did acquiesce to Heavenly Bliss’s beloved poodle. But Heavenly Bliss was the exception. Desiree figure it had to do with her large presence. Jabbar, it seemed, had a penchant for big black women.

  “Not real dogs. Dawgs,” Mildred said with a giggle. She raised one foot and wiggled it. “My feet, silly.” She rolled her eyes at Desiree who should have been insulted but laughed instead.

  “Please by all means sit down. Do you want a bottle of water? How far did you walk?”

  “Yes, water would be great. Well, I don’t rightly know how far I walked. I’ve been meaning to get one of those pedicures that counts your mileage. I’ve been walking a lot lately since the egg thief also stole my truck.”

  “Pedicure? You mean a pedometer?”

  “One of those doohickeys that count your steps. I’d just be curious is all. I want to tell my best friend Greta all about my adventures, I aim to call her every night. She’s so sweet. You’d love her. So I like to be accurate. I thought telling her that I walked two thousand steps would fascinate her because she’s a waitress and worried about varicose veins. At first I counted my steps but around four hundred I had to backtrack ‘cause I dropped my hankie and I didn’t know if I should count the steps going backwards—do I add them or subtract them—you see the problem? So I just quit counting altogether. You don’t mind if I take these off do you?” She pointed at her wedge heels. “You won’t think I’m unprofessional?”

  “By all means, take them off,” Desiree said. “Can’
t have your dogs barking.” She handed Mildred a bottle of water and sat on the opposite end of the couch.

  Mildred took a long satisfying drink. “Hits the spot, thank you.”

  Desiree smiled. She couldn’t believe her good fortune. Mildred had all the right curves in all the right places and she seemed genuinely nice. If Desiree could reel this fish in, Honey Belle would be ecstatic.

  Mildred smiled warmly and said, “Should I tell you about myself? I read this interview book off the bookmobile and it said I had to sell myself and so I’m supposed to tell you all my good points and leave off the bad ones.”

  “This is definitely a job where you sell yourself,” Desiree said. “You should probably start by telling me your name.”

  Mildred’s hand flew to her mouth. “I can’t believe I missed the first step of the interview process.” She whapped herself in the forehead. “I’m such a dinglebert humperdink!”

  “Oh, don’t do that.” Desiree took Mildred’s hand in her own. “Don’t hurt yourself. You’re much too beautiful to have a bruise. And you’re not a…dingle whatever.”

  “Was I unprofessional?” Mildred now looked horrified. “The book said not to be unprofessional. Can you just erase that from the record?”

  “Sure. Why don’t we start over?”

  “Oh, you’re so sweet. I just knew when I found the right position you all would be sweet to me. You make my heart go pitter patter.” At the mention of her heart, Mildred placed Desiree’s hand over her ample chest.

  “Yes, we’re all about heart here.” Desiree felt her own heart skip a beat or two. She removed her hand from Mildred’s chest. Not that she wanted to, but she didn’t quite trust herself.

  Mildred reached her hand down beside her right leg and yanked at the air. Then she made a screech and a motor sound followed by, “Beep beep beep beep.”

  “What’re you doing?” Desire asked. She was suddenly afraid that this woman wasn’t playing with a full deck.

  “I’m putting her in reverse, silly,” Mildred said. “So I can go back to the beginning and start all over.” Mildred leaned over to Desiree and whispered in her ear, “The book said to do things that were memorable. I figured you wouldn’t forget me if I proved to be good at charades.”

  Desiree nodded. “The book was right. I won’t forget you any time soon.”

  “Okay, here goes. Job interview take two,” she slapped her hands together as if they were a movie clapper. “My name is Mildred Pierce and I’m from Terrence, Texas. I graduated high school and went to Terrence Vo-tech for two years where I got a certificate in body modification.”

  “Oh? What kind of modifying?” Desiree asked against her better judgment.

  “Oh, piercings mostly,” Mildred answered. “Let me tell you about my cope due grate.”

  Desiree translated that to coup de grat. She was getting a handle on Mildred-speak.

  “There’s this cat lady in our town. She takes in all the stray cats. She wanted to look more like her cats so she could communicate with them better. So she got ten nipples put up and down her stomach. Five on each side. I helped design that, then she went to a plastic surgeon and he put on the nipples. I pierced them ‘cause she wanted to be a hipster cat-lady.”

  “Well, now that is something,” Desiree said, her head filling with visions she’d rather forget.

  “You ever need a piercing or anything, I’m your woman,” Mildred said, beaming proudly.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “So, what all do you do here?” She took another swig of water.

  “Hmm…” Desiree took a deep breath. She studied Mildred. How should she put this? She contemplated morals, ethics and religion, but finally decided to use the blunt approach. “We have sex.” There, she said it. “For profit.” There, she said more.

  Mildred’s eyes opened wide. “Are you a prostitute?”

  “In a manner of speaking, yes. Though we prefer to call ourselves gigolo girls. It’s a word usually reserved for male prostitutes, but we took it for ourselves. Why should men always get all the good words?”

  “Well, I’m a lesbian. Does that disqualify me from the job?”

  Desiree breathed a giant sigh of relief. “We have sex with lesbians—for money.”

  Mildred bounced in her seat, clapped her hands, and said gleefully, “I love sex! And I love money, too! It sounds perfect.”

  “It does?”

  Mildred nodded. “Oh yes, sex is one of my favorite hobbies. I have a tendency to scare off people because of it. That was part of the problem between me and Cindy Lee. She had what you’d call a low-grade libido. We used to fight about that. And then she ran off with Sarah Jane who had a terrible accident when she was a child involving a Barbie dream house and her vagina. Bless her heart.”

  “Barbie dream house?” Desiree asked.

  Mildred nodded. “She was jumping on her bed and she catepillared off. Landed right on top of the roof—you know the pointed steeple part?” Mildred steepled her hands to demonstrate. “You get the picture.”

  Desiree translated catepillared to catapulted. “Indeed I do,” Desiree said.

  “I heard tell that now you can only visit Sarah Jane through the back door if you get my drift. That’s what Cindy Lee dumped me for. I hope her butthole falls clean off.” Mildred’s lip quivered. She burst into tears and blubbered, “I’m sorry. Every time I think of her, I get all twisted up inside.”

  Desiree pulled Mildred into an embrace and patted her on the back. “There, there. It’s going to be all right. No worries.”

  Mildred sobbed louder.

  Desiree said, “Well, I think it’s perfect. Cindy Lee was an asshole. And now she has to have sex with an asshole. I’d call that Karma.”

  Mildred giggled through her tears.

  Honey Belle

  “What the hell did you do?” Honey Belle said as she entered her office and saw Desiree and Mildred.

  “I didn’t do anything. What makes you think that?” Desiree said.

  “Well, for one thing, you have a sobbing woman sitting on your lap,” Honey Belle said.

  It was true. Mildred had buried her teary face in Desiree’s neck and climbed onto her lap. For her part, Desiree had not encouraged it, but she hadn’t exactly discouraged it either.

  To Mildred, Desiree said, “Dry your tears and meet Honey Belle. She owns the company.” To Honey Belle she said, “This is Mildred. I just hired her. I took the liberty of interviewing her and she seems right for the position,” Desiree said.

  “You hired her?” Honey Belle asked.

  “You hired me?” Mildred asked, pulling her head out of Desiree’s neck. She clasped her hand on either side of Desiree’s face and gave her a big wet kiss. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. How can I ever repay your kindness?”

  Honey Belle harrumphed and muttered, “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

  “I can’t wait to call Greta and tell her I got a job!” Mildred patted her hands together like a little kid looking at the candles on her birthday cake.

  Embarrassed by Mildred’s affection, Desiree moved Mildred to the couch. She stood and pretend-brushed the creases out of her slacks and shirt. Honey Belle put her hands on her hips and squinted one eye at Desiree. “Must be quite the interview technique you have—reducing them to tears.”

  “No, I mean, yes, well… Mildred was telling me about herself and, well, she got sad about a past event.” The truth was that Desiree had no idea she was going to hire Mildred until the words popped out of her mouth. Mildred probably wasn’t equipped for the job despite her libido but Desiree had felt sorry for her. After all, with that body how bad could she be? “We could give her a few of the LBD clients to start with. Until she gets her feet under her.” It was a proven fact that LBD clients were the easiest to please. Desiree had once made an LBD woman orgasm just by touching her elbow.

  Honey Belle studied Mildred, sizing her up. “She’s got the body, all right. What’s her angl
e?”

  Desiree had to think fast. Honey Belle had the attention span of a hummingbird. If they didn’t cinch the deal now it would be gone forever. Desiree gave Mildred the once over. “We’ll have to change her name.” She smiled apologetically at Mildred. “I don’t know what your mama was thinking with that one.”

  “Mildred Pierce was her favorite movie.” Mildred held her thumb and forefinger an inch apart, saying, “I came this close to being named Stella Dallas.”

  “That might’ve been an improvement,” Honey Belle said.

  “I know!” Desiree said. She blasted into her sales pitch, “Make her into our new country girl innocent. Like the salesman and the farmer’s daughter. The clients will love it. She can be our new flavor. She could pull it off. She’s got great tits. She has the accent. She looks good in gingham.”

  Honey Belle chewed it over. “That might work…”

  Desiree said, “She wouldn’t even have to pretend. She is a farmer’s daughter.”

  Mildred shook her head. “Technically, I’m the daughter of a chicken rancher.”

  Desiree shot Mildred a shut up look.

  Honey Belle nodded. “Okay, she’s hired on.” She wagged a finger in Desiree’s direction. “But she’s your responsibility, you hear? She’s on probation and you have to train her.”

  “It’s a deal,” Desiree said.

  “Oh, thank you, Honey Belle, Ma’am, thank you!” Mildred stood up and did something Desiree had only seen in Gone with the Wind—she curtseyed. It was the most endearing thing Desiree had ever seen. If Mildred only had a dress made of green velvet curtains, she’d have made a perfect Scarlet O’Hara.

  Victoria’s Secret

  “I don’t understand your interest in this girl,” said Candy Sweet. “We don’t have a trainee program and if we did we sure wouldn’t hire someone like her. She’s so dumb she couldn’t find her way out of a paper bag.”

  “She’s not dumb,” Desiree said. “She’s innocent. There’s a big difference.”