I didn't feel like myself. It was like I was looking down on my body, watching myself take in the glory of the space. There was a king size bed set inside the most beautiful wood frame. Green silk bedding laid across the top, a mountain of pillows was fixed against the headboard.
I was pretty sure my mouth hit the floor. This is my home for the weekend? Holy shit.
Tossing my bag onto the bed, I sat on the thick mattress and ran my fingers over the smooth fabric. Tracing the intricate designs with my fingertips, it felt like pure liquid velvet under my touch.
This is unreal, I don't know what to think. My lip curled slightly, a playful joy filtered through my muscles. I couldn't believe where I was, even if it was only going to be for a mere blip of time. I wanted to savor everything, every feel of the riches I knew I would never have the pleasure of living in again.
Opening the bag, I sifted through the clothing as I re-read the note. There was nothing in it to tell me what type of dress to wear, or how to approach this job. I suddenly felt very unprepared for this. My bag was filled with skimpy short dresses in a place that seemed better fit for gowns.
Most of the time I knew if it was a bachelor party or birthday party. I'm given instructions on what the customer likes, how to get them involved and comfortable. But not this time. This time I was left in the dark to just guess.
Pushing around the clothes I pulled out a short, tight teal dress. It was one of my favorites; sexy, but still covering all the right areas to put the imagination to work. Slipping it over my head, I peered at myself in the floor length mirror.
The blue stood out against my hair, making the red seem bolder and really pop. I'm sure this will do the job. Not that it really matters. The men never looked at the actual dress, they always tried to look through it, fucking me with their stare.
Running my fingers through my hair, the curls draped over my shoulders; ends tickling the slit of my breasts. It's time to get to work. Here we go. My stomach was riddled with knots and butterflies. This was a big deal for me; it was a chance to be a leap closer to freedom from what I owed Gloria.
That's what I really wanted; I wanted my life back; I wanted to be back in the world I knew and loved.
Closing the door behind me, I walked to the stairs. Standing at the bottom, the staircase seemed endless; curving up and around towards the ceiling. There had to be thirty steps at least, definitely more than you're typical two story house.
I gripped the railing tightly, having no idea what awaited me at the top sent a surge of fear through my body. Prickles shot across my neck, my spine straightened as the muscles tightened around each individual bone. A heavy breath freed my lungs as my heel hit the bottom step, knuckles whitening with each lift of my foot as I squeezed harder around the railing.
Reaching the top, I turned my head side to side. A dark hallway was to my left, but to my right was a large open arch. An iridescent glow flickered in the opening, and a subtle distant melody seemed to be creeping out from inside.
That must be where I need to go. It's the only sign of life around here. But it's still so quiet... Maybe the real show isn't tonight? It occurred to me that I was here all weekend. It was possible that the party could be set for another night. This could have been just a meet and greet. Maybe this was where I would get any information I needed.
But the feeling of uncertainty sat like heavy lead in my stomach. This was different, not the typical job. I wasn't in a sleazy motel room filled with barking boys, and the scent of cheap cigars swirling around my nose.
In that moment, I wished there was someone else with me, even if that person had ended up being Fionna. Anyone would've given me some sort of comfort, I didn't care who. Just someone else so I didn't feel so uneasy, and alone.
Walking slowly towards the light, I paused in the doorway. There was a man standing against the far wall, facing the window. I couldn't help but notice the muscles beneath his shirt. Each protrusion stood out, dipping and dancing against the fabric as he shifted his arm up to rest it on the glass.
“Come on in. Don't be shy,” he said. His voice was muffled as his head tilted over his shoulder.
“Hi, I'm Copper. I'm the girl you hired...” My words trailed off. I knew he was aware of who I was. “You know who I am. I don't know why I said that.” A nervous chuckle spilled off my tongue.
“Good observation, Sweetheart.” He twirled a glass in his hand, wrist circling the liquid around the ice cubes inside. Bringing the drink to his lips, he sipped it slowly. “Help yourself to the bar, there's plenty if you're thirsty.” His eyes remained set outside, frozen in place.
“No, thank you. But I didn't get your name, you are?” I asked.
“I didn't give you my name.” He turned his head towards the stone fireplace on the far wall, his profile flickered in shadows of orange and red. “How was your flight?”