by Alice Ward
I shook my head. “You’re nuts, Duk. What does your wife say to all of this?” I knew it was a bold and unprecedented move on my part. We’d never spoken of his wife before.
“No problem.” His smile grew wider. “We’re getting a divorce.”
I grunted. “Well, by all means then, have both.” I nudged his arm with my elbow.
He chuckled, and he waved our hostess over. “Can I ask you some questions, about who you think might be best?” Duk was so eager to have his perfect evening it was embarrassing.
“It’s up to your personal preferences, Mr. Soo,” she responded, perfectly poised and attentive, without asking what those were.
“Well, when it says here…” He pointed to some of the more challenging sexual vocabulary.
While he was being educated by our poor hostess, I considered finding the door the Butterfly’d exited from last night and waiting for her to arrive. I knew she walked from another building to the theater each night, and I assumed she probably used the same one on her way in. I had to see her, the real her, not the woman who played the part of the Butterfly. I stood up and was about to excuse myself when Juno stopped me.
“What can I help you with this evening, Mr. Wellington?” Her eyes sparkled a little too brightly.
My eyes shifted to the door, and I resigned myself to missing my chance to see her. A heavy sigh escaped me and caught the hostess’s attention.
“Is there no one who peaks your interest, sir?” Again, she flashed the perfect smile, which reminded me of a character from any number of creepy horror movies. Ones where the lead character was sucked in by the innocence and ease of the hostess, who was planning on leading him to his slaughter.
I cleared my throat and took the chance that I would appear to be as lewd and disgusting as Duk. It would be worth it for a moment alone with the mysterious singer. “Last night, I spoke with the singer who goes by the name Butterfly. I wanted to know if I could see her again tonight.” I didn’t know why my palms were sweating and I was having trouble breathing. Business transactions were my specialty, but I was unraveling.
“Of course, Mr. Wellington. I know you met with her last night, let me inquire for you.”
“Also, do you mind delivering this to her?” I tried to appear detached and casual as I handed her the black velvet box.
“He wants to marry her.” Duk laughed hilariously, already a step toward being drunk.
I made eye contact with the young woman and shook my head, pretending to be shocked by what Duk had suggested.
She nodded, understanding my discomfort. “I’ll make sure she gets this.”
“I’ll pay whatever she wants, on her terms.” I flashed a dashing grin, hoping she didn’t think I was some kind of freak with fetishes. Of course, she’d probably think I was a freak if I didn’t.
“I’ll see what I can do. After the manager has made arrangements for the patrons this evening, I’ll give her your offer. Is there anything else you need?” She inclined her head, waiting for our requests.
“I’m good.” I was a wreck. “Actually, I’ll take a bourbon.”
Duk ordered another drink and the lights dimmed, giving the five-minute warning. The show was about to start. My heart slammed against my chest, rattling my ribs.
I felt the heat of someone’s gaze on my neck, the uncomfortable feeling when you know someone’s watching you. I glanced over in Jack’s direction. He stared back at me with his black penetrating eyes, arms crossed over his bloated belly. He didn’t break eye contact, and I knew he was trying to provoke me.
I’d humiliated him, so he was seeking a retaliation. Well, he wasn’t going to get a reaction out of me. As long as he kept his distance, he could keep his dignity. I wondered for a second if he could be behind the internet article like Peter had suggested, but dismissed it and him from my mind. I could wonder all day long, but in the world of anonymous trolls, I’d probably never know for sure.
I avoided his gaze by pretending to look at the catalog. The pages were filled with beautiful women, and I was shocked that I’d never felt out of place here before, that the fact that these women sold themselves to the highest bidder had never bothered me.
There were only a few minutes until curtain when a waitress walked up behind me. “Mr. Wellington, this is for you.”
I turned, hopeful the Butterfly had already given her affirmative answer.
Her head tilted in Jack’s direction. “It’s from Mr. Marshall with his compliments. There’s a private message inside.” She set a martini glass before me with a folded cocktail napkin, along with the bourbon I’d ordered.
I unfolded the napkin to reveal a note that simply said, You should have reserved her earlier.
What had he done? Had he pulled strings and booked ahead with the Butterfly? I couldn’t let him be alone with her. But what could I do?
When I glanced up at him, he bellowed out a laugh that was loud enough to rouse the other patrons’ curiosity. The way he leaned over to the other men nearby and one of them looking immediately right in my direction told me Jack was talking about me. Then the man’s expression changed to one of shock and concern. God only knew what he was telling the man about me.
I wanted to go over there and rip him out of his chair, smash my fist into his face. Instead of giving the crowd a show, I met his eyes and pushed his glass to the other side of the table, balling up the napkin and tossing it on the floor. I felt like I’d just called a duel, like I’d spit on the ground in front of Jack. I wouldn’t let him win.
At that moment, the lights went out and the show began. Buzzing on the rush of adrenalin and bourbon, I waited impatiently for her voice to fill the room. Then the beauty of her haunting song eased its way into my soul as she soared high above us, wearing next to nothing.
I felt excited knowing I had another chance to connect with her tonight, but also concerned that she was in a position that she had to bare nearly everything for the act.
I stared up toward the ceiling, watching her twirl and sing. Ignoring the dancers on stage and their grotesque display of sexuality, I focused all of my attention on the magic she was creating. She glanced down, and it couldn’t have been my imagination that our eyes met. A quick smile flickered over her lips then she focused on the stage again. The spotlight followed her as she flew from one end of the stage to the other.
Her voice felt so strangely familiar as she sang the first melody. It was a sad song, sung in English this time, about lost love and moving on. She sang it with such feeling that it made me think she had experienced every word. As she ended and launched into a happier tune, I was sure she wiped tears away.
Suddenly, I just wanted to be in the same room with her again. I wanted to hold her. Kiss her until those tears were the furthest thing from her mind.
I remembered the note and my anger returned, but I didn’t dare look over at Jack. Instead, I focused on her and the night we hopefully had in store for us. I wondered if the hostess had given her my gift and what she thought about it.
Her performance was over too quickly. The lights came up as the emcee announced the Parade of Delights.
As he was making his speech, our hostess glided over discreetly and whispered in my ear. “Mr. Wellington, I’m sorry to inform you…” My breath hitched in my throat. “The Butterfly wants to inform you she is otherwise occupied this evening and cannot comply to your request.”
My hope for the evening crashed into hell, and I was surprised at how disappointed I was. Perhaps she’d lied. Perhaps she was just one of the other Jewels, and she had played hard to get to make more money.
She bowed and offered her regrets. “There are other women who would love to have a conversation or more with you this evening.”
My head spun in Jack’s direction. I had a gut feeling he had something to do with this. For the first time I wondered just how powerful Jack was. Could it have been him who had made false reports to the media? Surely, he wouldn’t have had time to stir up so mu
ch trouble in one day. But with his kind of money and influence, theoretically, he could do anything he wanted.
My jaw tightened, and I took a deep breath, chasing away images of hacking off Jack’s little pecker with a kitchen cleaver. I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving the Butterfly with him, but there wasn’t much else I could do.
Had I misjudged her? I never assumed she’d want to spend her night with Jack, not after that scene last night. Had he offered her enough money to entice her? If so, it would have been an expensive buy.
I swallowed my pride, then responded to the hostess, who was all but shaking before me. “Who secured the Butterfly tonight?”
The young woman froze, and I watched her closely. Her eyes slid in Jack’s direction before re-focusing on me. That was answer enough.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Wellington, I—”
“It’s okay. Thank you for delivering this message. I’ll have no further need of services this evening.” I managed to keep my voice calm and focused.
I then leaned into Duk. “I’ve just received some disturbing news, and I’ll have to leave immediately. You go on with your evening, and I’ll have my driver wait for you to take you back to your hotel.” I was all business and kept my bubbling emotions under control until I could get outside.
“Oh no, nothing too serious I hope,” he said with a note of genuine concern.
“Nothing that can’t be sorted out, but I’ve got to deal with it, unfortunately.” I kept my face frozen in neutrality as I downed the last of my bourbon, wishing I’d had another to numb the pain in my chest. This was what came of opening up to any woman.
“Sure. Thanks for everything. I’ll have my distribution team set you up with that shipment tomorrow and it’ll be at the lower rate this time.” He smiled proudly and shook his finger at me as if bestowing a great honor upon me. “I gave you a really good deal on this.”
“You’re the best, Duk. We’ll catch up next time you’re in town.” I grabbed my coat and motioned for our hostess, to follow me to the door.
“Yes, Mr. Wellington,” Juno said, winded somewhat from her sprint across the theater.
“Send a Flaming Bacardi 151 to Mr. Marshall as a thank you for the cocktail, and put everything on my tab. I’ll settle it tomorrow.” I then handed her a few hundred-dollar bills and quickly left the building.
I needed to be far away from Jewel, as I feared what I’d do to Jack if I stayed. More than rage, however, was the overpowering emotion of disappointment.
What and idiot I’d been. The whole thing last night had probably been all part of her act. Pretending to be disabled, fragile like a butterfly caught in the grips of men’s lust… all for a price.
I felt like I was going to vomit.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Adara
I entered my dressing room just as Janis walked by and popped her head in.
“I got picked tonight.” She flashed an enormous smile.
I couldn’t imagine being so happy to sleep with a stranger, but I guessed desperation and money could make people do things that would normally be out of character.
“Well, congratulations, I guess.” I forced a smile, hoping she thought I meant it.
“He’s a regular, and I like him a lot.” She ogled the outrageous bouquet in the corner of the room. “Who are the flowers from? They’re so gorgeous.”
“I’m not sure exactly.” Please don’t let them be from Jack. “I need to change out of this hideous thing first.”
“Oh right, sorry, I’ll let you get dressed. I just wanted to tell you the good news.” She beamed brightly.
“Of course. I’m glad to see you so happy.” I gave her a thumbs-up. “Stop by later and you can tell me about him.”
“Have fun tonight, and don’t worry, it gets a lot easier after the first time.” She flashed a supportive smile and ducked out of the room.
What the hell did she mean by that?
Had Anne already heard about Roman’s offer and thought I was planning on sleeping with him? The rumors around this place were ridiculous.
I grabbed my cane and walked over to the flowers. They were even more magnificent than I thought. A mixture of roses, gardenias, zinnias, and carnations. The size of three bouquets in one. I leaned in and inhaled, and noticed a tiny envelope stuck on a stick poking out from between the blooms. And a long black box lying next to the flowers.
Hoping it was from Roman, my fingers shook as I picked up the black box, saving the envelope for last because it was sure to be the most special. Inside lay a gold necklace with a dainty butterfly pendant. Diamonds sparkled on its wings and gave the illusion it was in flight when I fastened it around my neck and looked in the mirror. Tears threatened to spill over, and I shook my head, reaching for the small envelope.
There was a simple, elegant card inside, on which was written,
Please allow me to release you from your cage, my most beautiful butterfly. I want to know you, not possess you. I’ll be waiting, Roman
He was right. This was a cage. And I wanted to be free. I didn’t want to be here anymore. I could have a life outside of here, a normal life. It would take time, but dammit, I’d sing in bars, wait tables, anything but be pressured into selling myself and watching others spiral down the black hole of prostitution.
My heart sang as I turned toward a small closet in the corner where I kept my personal belongings. I didn’t have much in there, just a styling kit for my hair, a jacket, and some jeans in case I got cold. I yanked my see-through dress over my head, tossed it over the chair and opened the closet.
All my things were gone except my flesh-colored mask, which had fallen to the floor. One black low-cut dress hung on a single hanger.
Where the fuck was my stuff?
I grabbed my cape and put it on, feeling a little better not standing there in nothing but a string. I pulled out my phone and dialed Brandy, then heard her phone ringing in the hallway. Within moments, she was in my dressing room. I wrapped the cape more tightly around me.
“Where are my personal clothes?” I lashed out at her the moment she closed the door.
She seemed surprised to see the flowers, but wiped all signs of emotion off her face. “I told you that they were going to take most everything to the cleaners, sorry if they got your own stuff too.” I didn’t know her well any more, but I knew in my gut that Brandy had just flat out lied to me.
“So where did this come from?” I showed her the little black dress still wrapped in plastic.
“Honey, don’t get your panties all twisted, the laundry people probably just brought you someone else’s dress. Sometimes they make mistakes. Don’t worry, I’ll find out where your stuff is, but since it looks like they wiped you clean out of clothes, you should probably put it on. Unless you want to wear the cape and nothing else to your meeting with Mr. Wellington.” Her hand shot to her hip and her eyes slivered, daring me to defy her.
“One, it’s not a dress, it’s a fraction of a dress, and second, it’s brand new. It looks more expensive than the ones Jewel…” I stopped my tirade for a moment to look at the price tag. “What the hell? Nine hundred dollars? There’s not even enough fabric to blow your nose with this. I’m not wearing this. I’ll have to go back to my apartment first.” I tossed the scrap of expensive cloth at her.
“You haven’t got time,” she said, tossing the dress right back. “He’s already in the pleasure room waiting for you.”
I frowned. Was it possible he had bought this too? This slut-in-seconds dress? It would be so contradictory to his behavior up until now. Something didn’t seem right. Why would he have my things removed from my closet?
“I’ve got good news though,” Brandy interjected, “and I’ll tell you while you’re putting that on.”
“What?” I barked as I walked over to the mirror and held the dress up in front of me. Damn, I didn’t want to go to him looking like an extra slutty Catwoman. I went back to the closet and picked up the flesh-colored mask.
Yes, I’d wear it. It would be the first step toward revealing the real me.
“The money’s in your account already. Harmon had it direct deposited right after the show.”
“Why would he do that? He’s not that generous.” The news made me even more worried.
“He’s grateful you’ve altered your contract to accommodate a client’s needs. He does nice things when people please him.” A tiny, weird smile was plastered on her face.
“What is he, the Tzar?” I did a mock bow to accentuate my point. “I didn’t alter my contract. I’m just meeting Roman this one last time and that’s it.” I peeled the dress off of the hanger and looked at it with disgust. “Don’t you have anything else?”
“I do. Much sluttier things, so just put it on and shut up,” she answered, sounding exasperated.
“God, Brandy, you’re such a bitch.” I looked at her, unwilling to let any more of her callous treatment go.
She stared at me for a moment as I fought my leg into the itty-bitty dress. The look was meaningful, like one between two sisters who had been fighting but now faced something horrible together. I’d never thought about her not wanting to do this stuff. In fact, I’d never taken her feelings into account. It was always about me. And suddenly, I had the most horrible feeling she didn’t want to be here at all.
As if she sensed the change of mood in the room, she said, “I’m sorry about what happened last night.”
“The security guard knew what Jack was doing and didn’t even try to stop him.”
“Some guys are into that. ‘Pursuit games’ are on the menu. He must’ve thought it was an act.” She gestured at my cape draped over the chair. “You’re not Adara Wilde here. In that cape, you’re just another one of us.”
Maybe, but then why hadn’t the guard stepped in even when Roman came to my rescue?
When the dress was covering one-eighth of my body and I’d slipped my black flats back on, she said, “You look absolutely gorgeous,” as a glint of jealousy lit up her eyes. “I know you don’t like it here, Ady, but remember, whatever happens, we have each other.” She walked to the door then turned back. In that moment, she had never looked more like the teenage girl who had been my biggest defender. “I’ve got to check on the other girls.” Pausing, she dug in the tote she always carried and pulled out the usual black beaded clutch, handing it to me. “Don’t open it until you are in the room with him.” She gave me a meaningful look and whispered, “And use it if you have to.”