The Ivy League

by Parker, Ruby

  “Did you come here simply to yell at me?” Madame Gwen said, her brow cocked as she craned her neck to look up at him. She knew there was another reason he was here. He was an incredibly busy man, and her home was far from the city. If he had come all this way in person, there was something more he was after.

  “I want her again,” he said. He had tried many times to get Sara off his mind, but she was stuck in there. The events of that night had replayed so many times in is head. He had so many regrets, things he wished he could go back and do differently with her. He couldn’t concentrate and his work was suffering. He was ashamed with himself for not doing a better job with Sara for her first time, and he wanted to make that right.

  “I thought you might feel that way,” Madame Gwen said, taking another drag on her cigarette. “But I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

  “I will twice as last time,” he said. He had been at this long enough to know what motivated the Madame.

  “I’m afraid it isn’t the cost,” she said stroking a hand through her hair. “She doesn’t want to work again.”

  He knew it, and he felt his self loathing rising in his throat. He had given Sara a horrible experience and then had treated her like a common whore when it was all over. No wonder she didn’t want to work again. The thought that he would never see her again began to settle in the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t let that happen. At all costs, he had to see her again. Just once more to make things right.

  Chapter Nine

  “So?” Krista asked, her brows wiggling up and down as she flashed Sara a wide grin. “How was it?”

  “It was…” Sara shrugged, sitting down at the small table of the roadside café. She wasn’t sure if she should tell Krista everything that had happened. She was the only friend Sara had in the city, and the one that had gotten her this job.

  “I know,” Krista said, not even waiting for a response. “I told you the first wasn’t that great. But I’ve heard client #326 is particularly pleasant. I’ve wanted him for a long time. You are so lucky. I’m jealous.”

  The clients were given numbers, most of them not wanting to give names for obvious reasons. They were all wealthy, powerful men with a lot to loose if their more peculiar preferences ever became public knowledge.

  “I guess,” Sara said, her cheeks heating with the slightest recollection of him. His presence lingered in her mind, haunting her every waking moment with his utterly masculine aura.

  “You know I expect you to tell me everything,” Krista said, leaning away from the table as a waiter began to fill the small table with dishes of food. “I ordered for you. I didn’t want to wait.”

  “I don’t really want to talk about it,” Sara protested, shaking her head. Krista was in this business for a different set of reasons than Sara. Krista was a sexually free person, and she enjoyed the opportunity to meet young, powerful men and bed them. It was a game to her, and getting paid to play was just a bonus.

  “Your not getting off that easy,” Krista said, picking up her fork and spearing a clump of pasta. “Besides, was it really that bad?”

  “No,” Sara said, “It was just…”

  “Awkward?” Krista interrupted, her fork hanging in the air by her mouth. The Madame told Krista to be careful with Sara, to not tell her too much or push her too hard. Madame Gwen saw enormous potential with Sara, but she didn’t want to scare her off before she had a chance to see the better side of this business.

  “Yeah,” Sara said. She really just wanted to end this conversation, and she knew Krista wouldn’t let up until she was satisfied.

  “It can be sometime,” Krista said, “but the first time is always the worst. For both things.”

  “Yeah,” Sara said, “but I’m not doing it again.”

  “I know, I know,” Krista said. They had been round and round about this from the beginning. Krista figured if you were going to do it once, why not make a living out of it. She knew that society’s opinion of her trade was not very favorable, but she didn’t care. Krista had found enjoyment in the work. It’s not like any of her clients were ever unsavory. On the contrary, Madame Gwen not only hand picked her girls, but her clientele as well. Madame Gwen specialized in fantasy, and it was that aspect that Krista enjoyed the most. She had always had a diverse sexual appetite, and this allowed her to live out her own sexual desires while making a very good living off it. She understood that it would not suit most girls, for the label of prostitute alone.

  “Madame Gwen keeps calling me,” Sara said, looking down at her plate. She had been avoiding the calls. She had already received her payment and she really just wanted to leave all of this behind her.

  “And?” Krista asked, “What does she want?”

  “I don’t know,” Sara said. She picked at her food. She hadn’t been able to eat much lately. Too many unsettling thoughts floating around her head. “I was hoping you could talk to her for me.”

  Krista fought the strong urge to roll her eyes. Sara was a great girl, but it was hard for most people to see the fire that lay beneath such a shy exterior. Krista had only seen it come out of Sara on a few rare occasions, but it was enough for her to know the passion that was in her.

  “I’m sorry,” Krista said with a shrug, “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. Madame Gwen is a stickler about privacy and I’m afraid she wouldn’t allow me to speak to her on your behalf. Your on your own with this one sweetie.”

  “I just want you to tell her to please stop calling me,” Sara pleaded, setting her fork down. She knew that if she answered the phone, she wouldn’t be able to refuse seeing the Madame again. Sara had only met her twice before, but she had learned how persuasive the Madame could be.

  Sara felt her phone shaking in her purse next to her and she rummaged through the bag until she found it. A scowl crossed her face when she saw the caller ID.

  “Speak of the devil,” Sara said, waving her phone at Krista. She wanted to decline the call, but she knew she had to face this eventually. Sara took a deep breath and hit the answer key.

  #

  “How was the new girl?” Daniel Scott said., as he leaned over his colleagues shoulder.

  “I’d rather not talk about it,” he said without looking up from the papers he was reading. He could see where this conversation was heading, and if he could avoid it he would. Dan was a long time friendly rival of his. They vied for many of the same positions and honors, and on occasion, the same girl. The fact that he had won the night with the new girl wouldn’t sit well with Dan. Payback would be coming soon.

  “Well,” Dan said, a smile twitching on his thin lips. “Maybe I’ll see how she is for myself.”

  He couldn’t explain why exactly but he loathed the thought of Daniel with his hands on Sara. Perhaps it was because he knew Dan had passions for a more brutal style of intimacy. He just couldn’t see Sara doing that. She was far too innocent and naïve to be in this seedy world.

  “I don’t think that would be wise,” he said, finally looking up from his work.

  “Why is that?” Dan asked, an eyebrow cocked. “Plan on keeping her for yourself?”

  “No,” he said, quickly casting his eyes away. The truth was he did. He couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else having her, but he wasn’t quite ready to admit that, especially not to Daniel. It would only fuel his rivalry spirit and spark a rush to obtain the girl as a trophy. Unfortunately, that rivalry had already been triggered.

  “Good,” Daniel said, “Then I’ll have to see her for myself.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Are you sure you don’t want anymore work?” Madame Gwen asked as her butler poured the afternoon tea for her and Sara. It had taken a lot of charm just to get Sara here.

  “No,” Sara said, shaking her head. She hadn’t thought it would have mattered much to her, but she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Thinking about him. With every thought she felt an odd twisting mix of emotions. There was something about him, something so captivating. She just could
n’t get him out of her mind. The smell of him still swirled in her nose. “This just isn’t the thing for me.”

  “I know,” Madame Gwen said, with a kind smile as she plopped a cube of sugar in her cup. She had been a Madame for almost a decade, and in that time, she had seen a lot of girls into this business. It was important not to push them. It really wasn’t for everyone. But she had come to know the kind of girls it was for. And although Sara didn’t realize it herself, she was exactly the kind of girl that belonged in this business. But Madame Gwen would need her to come to that realization herself. It was merely her job to guide Sara with a gentle push.

  “So why did you insist I come here,” Sara asked, after some polite conversation over tea and little cakes.

  “I have a couple items of business left with you my dear,” Madame Gwen said, setting her cup down in the saucer. “My company may not be legal, but I like to run it as professionally as possible.”

  “Ok,” Sara said, forcing herself not to roll her eyes. They were on the columned portico of an enormous mansion having afternoon tea. Somehow she couldn’t imagine how this could be in anyway considered professional.

  “Client #326 came to see me personally,” Madame Gwen said, picking up her fork and taking a last square of cake.

  “Look,” Sara said, raising a hand defensively. “I did my job, if he wasn’t happy with it that’s his problem.”

  “Actually,” Madame Gwen said, pausing to enjoy her bite of cake, “he was rather pleased. He wanted me to give you a bonus.”

  “A bonus,” Sara said, shocked. She had thought he was dissatisfied. He had been so cold to her when everything was over. The Madame slid an envelope across the table to Sara, a wink in her green eyes. It’s a good thing Sara wasn’t eating while she peaked into the envelope, because she would have choked. It was a thick stack of hundreds, crisp and new.

  “I know it can sometimes feel strange,” Madame Gwen said. She dabbed at her lips with a corner of her white linen napkin. “But if you can learn to treat this as a job, it can be very lucrative.”

  “Is this normal?” Sara asked. There was almost as much in the envelope as she had been originally paid.

  “It’s not teribblly unusual,” Madame Gwen said. “But client #326 has never given any girl a bonus. He has also never requested the same girl twice.”

  “I won’t do it,” Sara said, vehemently shaking her head. She knew she had to get him out of her mind forever, and seeing him again would only make that much harder. But the fact that he had not only given her another massive sum of cash, but requested her again, did make her curious. She had always thought that the men who partook in these sorts of services were seedy and deeply disturbed. And while #326 obviously had peculiar fetishes, he didn’t really seem like the kind of man she had suspected would order a prostitute.

  “Would you take another job, for twice the price?” Madame Gwen asked, her eyebrow raised and a smirk on her pouty red lips.

  “No, I can’t,” Sara began to protest.

  “It’s only dinner,” Madame Gwen interrupted.

  “Dinner?” Sara said, “Is that some sort of code word?”

  “Its not code, Sara,” Madame Gwen said with a laugh. “My business is to please my highly esteemed clientele. Sometimes, that is something as simple as a dinner alone with a pretty girl.”

  Sara’s eyes locked onto the cash stuffed envelope in her hand. She had been putting in applications everywhere looking for a job. She may have been paid enough money to pay her tuition for the semester, but she still needed money to live on. And then there was next semester’s tuition that would need to be paid soon enough. She reasoned that the first time would always be the worst, and that hadn’t been completely horrible. Besides, it was only dinner.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sara rode in the back of the stretch limousine that had come to pick her up, watching the scenery of the city pass by as she tried to calm her nerves. Her stomach turned with every tiny bump in the road. Just the thought of seeing him again made her tremble. The thought of having dinner with him made her dizzy. The car came to a stop at the gate of a tall building and the driver got out to open the door for her.

  Sara placed her gloved hand into the driver’s proffered grip and she slid out of the bucket seat of the limo. She could barely walk in the floor length evening gown she was sent to wear. It was a flowing red silk dress with a balconette corset top and a slit that ran all the way up her thigh. Her hair had been swept back into a twist, revealing the long, slender curve of her neck.

  She had to concentrate on every step as she was shown to the back of the property, where a young man sat at a table set for two. A candle-lit flower garden surrounded the little white gazebo where the table was set up. Sara’s eyes focused on the man that sat at the table. It wasn’t the man she was expecting it to be, and she let out a heavy breath that she had been holding way too long. As quickly as relief washed over her, disappointment and confusion quickly followed.

  “Please,” the man said, standing with a wide smile when he saw her hesitation, “Sit.”

  “I’m sorry,” Sara said, shaking her head as she looked over the table set for two. She had never seen anything more romantic in her life. The man was once again young and handsome. His blonde hair was trimmed short on the sides and gelled into a gentleman’s part on top. His eyes were a soft blue that gave Sara a welcoming feeling. He wore a classic style tuxedo to match her evening gown, and he wore it very well. It was apparent he had gone to great lengths to put this dinner together. “This was a mistake.”

  “Oh,” the man said, his face dropping. “You are leaving then?”

  “Yes,” Sara said, “I just thought this was something else…”

  “Did Madame Gwen not disclose the details of my request?” the man asked, his eyes pleading with her to stay.

  “She did,” Sara said, “But I assumed something else.”

  “Please,” the man said, his friendly smile returning as he gestured to the empty chair across the table, “sit. It would be a shame to waste the food.”

  The food smelled amazing. Her stomach groaned loudly, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. She tried to find a reason to walk away, but she came up short.

  “You can leave anytime you like,” he said, trying to persuade her with a smile as he sat back down. There were two types of members in Madame Gwen’s club.

  There were those who only wanted to play out their fantasies with no strings attached. Then there were members like himself. Madame Gwen offered a special service for a member like himself. He maintained a certain lifestyle and that required a carefully crafted image. He would need a wife that could fit perfectly into that. He had heard Madame Gwen was fantastic at training her girls to be the perfect little trophy wife. This girl had intrigued him since the moment he saw her picture. She was classically beautiful, with strawberry blonde hair and deep blue eyes. She had the perfect look that he was after. Her size and color would complement his looks perfectly.

  “I am pretty hungry,” Sara said, letting the hunger get the better of her. She settled into her chair and flashed the man a sweet smile. He seemed nice enough.

  “My name is Daniel,” he said, “What is yours?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Sarah took a seat in the front of the classroom. She was so excited, she had arrived at her class a good fifteen minutes early. Maybe it was just her excitement to start learning at such a prestigious university, but she always liked to be punctual. She smiled and nodded as some of her classmates began to trail in, some singly, some in pairs, taking their seats throughout the classroom. Sarah glanced at her watch, counting down the seconds before the class was to begin. A frown marred her brow as the minute hand began to tick past the hour mark. She would have thought a professor would be as concerned about punctuality as she, but her first professor, in her very first college class was now officially late. The other students began to get antsy as the minutes ticked by and there w
as still no teacher to lead the class. She had heard that most teachers gave some five-minute lecture on the do’s and don’ts of their class before dismissing on the first day, but she had never heard of a teacher simply not showing up.

  One of the students in the back of the room stood up and began to leave just as a tall man in a suit and tie barged into the classroom carrying a leather brief case. He tossed the bag carelessly on the small table at the front of the room and a loud smack echoed off the concrete walls.

  Sarah recognized him the minute he entered. Even if she didn’t have eyes she would have known it was him. Simply by the way the air in the room shifted, became suddenly oppressive, when he came in. It was him. He said nothing to the class, had not even taken the time to look at them. He had not seen her yet. He picked up a piece of chalk and began to write on the board. The days, Monday and Wednesday, and the times 10:00-11:00. Beneath that, he wrote a name. His name. A name she knew she wasn’t supposed to ever know. Mr. Banks.

  As he tossed the small piece of chalk down on the table and turned around to look at the class, his eyes fell directly on her. For a split second, Sarah could see the shock and panic on his face, but he quickly returned to an unreadable mask. The small muscle in his square jaw ticked as his eyes hardened on her. His stare was suffocating. After a moment of silence, his eyes shifted to the rest of the class, and Sara found the ability to breathe again.

  “These are my office hours,” he said as he reached into his briefcase and pulled out a small stack of papers. He handed them off to the student sitting closest to him to pass around the class. “If you have questions, email me or seek me out at these times. My email and office number is on the syllabus, being passed around now.”