I nodded faintly, which triggered another wave of laughter.
“No. He is not mine or anyone else’s. Never will be.”
I told myself that the relief that filled me was simply because I had spared her the insult of what could only be the reasonable conclusion of me leaving his home dressed in his clothes. It was simply that and nothing else.
The conversation was mercifully cut short when the limo pulled to a stop.
“We’re here,” she said, stepping out of the car. I followed suit, but felt clumsy and unwieldy next to her.
She walked toward a small boutique, and I watched as an older woman opened the door and ushered us in.
When we entered, I looked around the place, one of those fancy stores that seemed mostly empty. And when I glanced at the clothes that hung on the racks, embarrassment slithered up my spine.
“Natasha.” She turned, eying me patiently. “This stuff won’t fit me,” I said.
She looked me up and down, letting her gaze caress my body. “I’ll handle it. Eat,” she said, gesturing toward the platter of fruit, crackers, and cheese that was laid out on a nearby table.
My stomach rumbled, but the embarrassment fled in the face of suddenly ravenous hunger. It had been nearly more than a day since my last meal. I headed for the table.
Eight
Fawn
* * *
“No, Natasha,” I said.
At the sight of her pouty expression, I almost giggled, but managed to hold firm. She held the chiffon negligee in front of her as if doing so would convince me.
“You have the assets for it,” she said, lowering her gaze to linger on my breasts and hips. “You could seduce any man in this.” She added a hilarious waggle of her eyebrows to the end of the sentence.
“I’m not trying to seduce anyone,” I said.
“Of course you are. It’s the way we survive,” she said turning solemn, and while I didn’t want to acknowledge it, there was truth in what she said.
After I’d unapologetically stuffed myself with fruit and crackers and watched Natasha polish off half a bottle of champagne, which seemed to have no effect at all, I had begun to enjoy my time with her, laughing at her outrageous suggestions, amused by her quick wit, able to pretend for just a little while I was a normal girl out with a friend and not ensnared in a world of darkness, that I was more than a commodity.
But that enjoyment was lessened at the cold reality of Natasha’s words. I knew better than most, probably even her, that my value was only measured by the pleasure that I gave, the pain I could withstand. And this little excursion, as fun as it had been, would not change that. I was as I had always been: a man’s property. That I’d chosen to be so willingly this time, even though I’d sworn that if I ever got away from David I’d never belong to anyone again, sent a rush of shame through me.
“Don’t be sad, Fawn,” she said, laying a hand on my shoulder, the act a representation of how we’d become fast friends. “He can be very kind.”
“Cruel too,” I said, a statement and not a question.
“Very. But sometimes and only when given cause.”
“And he decides what’s cause?”
She nodded. “But it is always that way for women like us.”
“Like us?” I asked, some of my dour mood fading at the hope I might have found a kindred spirit.
Natasha regarded me. “Like us. Your last one, he was very bad, yes? Bad enough that Vasile took you?”
I nodded, though I couldn’t say for sure why he’d done what he had.
“I haven’t suffered as much as you, but it’s the same. Vasile takes care of me now, but it’s just a matter of time until I belong to another. I just hope that when it finally happens, it’s someone I want, not whoever is around.”
She looked at me then, seeming younger, almost naive, so different than her coquettish speech and demeanor suggested. “Your father, did he give you to the man who had you before Vasile?”
If only it had been so simple. If only I had someone other than myself, something other than my own naïveté and stupidity to blame.
“I’d rather not talk about it,” I finally said, breaking her gaze.
She nodded, patted my shoulder. “Maybe one day.”
I doubted it, but I nodded.
“So this is all you’re going to buy?”
I looked down at the small pile of clothing. A couple of pairs of jeans, some Capri pants, a few underthings, and long-sleeved T-shirts. “Yes. It’s more than enough.”
“As you wish. We should return,” she said.
She patted my hand one last time.
Vasile
“Where is she?” Sorin asked as he practically barreled past me to get inside, looking around the room like an eager puppy.