“I know, and that’s just to start. It goes up from there. Those who perform well are paid well.”
I stare at the card and the massive number. I’ve got to be missing something. I look up and ask, “What’s my job?”
Miss Black grins and places her palms together. She points her index fingers at me. “Ah, that’s where things get tricky. You see, we are in one of the oldest professions in the world—the matchmaking business. Beautiful young women come to us and we take care of them and make sure they’re safe. We’re selective about our clientele and attempt to match preferences to keep things as pleasant as possible. Now, if—”
My mouth is hanging open. I blink as she speaks, thinking that I must be misunderstanding, but the longer she talks, the clearer things become. I find my voice and squeak out, “You want to be my pimp?” Okay, today is totally the worst day of my life. I stare at her wide-eyed. “Does Mel know—”
Mel speaks from behind me. “Of course I know. I work here, Avery. I’m a high dollar call girl, if you need the bluntness, and from the look on your face, I think you do.” I’m ready to bounce out of my chair and run, but Mel puts a hand on my shoulder and sits next to me. “I know what you’re feeling, but hear me out. Miss Black is a madam. It’s not the same as whoring yourself out. It’s more like matchmaking.”
“For money,” I retort.
“What’s so bad about that? I mean, you get to work a few hours a week, get good pay, and have someone looking out for you. The guys have a background check, are guaranteed drug and disease free. That’s better than dating the old fashioned way.”
“This isn’t dating, Mel!” I stand up, but Mel grabs my wrist and pulls me back into my seat. I’m so annoyed with her. I want to leave, but it’s because I’m upset. I can’t believe she took me here. I can’t believe she does this!
Mel sighs and gives me her annoyed look that’s just short of an eye roll. She thinks I’m blowing things out of proportion. “There are different levels of service, Avery. You could just be some guy’s arm-candy for the night. No sex. It’s your call.”
I glance at Miss Black. Her expression is neutral. “Is that true?”
Miss Black nods. “We have different clients with different needs. When you begin working for us, you tell us what you’re comfortable with and how far you’re willing to go. Limits are set ahead of time so there is no confusion. You have a security device with you at all times and check in here every weekend.”
“I—” my mouth is hanging open. Getting paid to be someone’s date doesn’t sound bad. “I don’t know.”
Mel explains, “The dates don’t pay as much, Avery. But it’s a good way to see how good they match you up. I mean, if it’s the kind of guy you’d take to bed anyway…” Mel winks at me and then shrugs, like it’s no big deal.
I break eye contact with Mel and stare at the table. I’m gripping my hands in my lap so tightly that they’re turning white.
Miss Black pushes a sheet of paper in front of me and a pen. “This is a list of things that might occur on a date with a client. You can check off the things you are willing to take part in.”
I stare at the sheet. There are normal things—hugs, kisses, pecks, French kissing—and then the list gets more specific: stroking, petting, oral sex, vaginal sex, anal sex, and it keeps going, getting weirder and weirder. There are two columns filled with anything and everything. Fisting? What the hell is that?
I shake my head and push the page back to her. “No.” I can’t do this. I feel like I’m standing on the slippery slope and about to fall down, ass first.
Miss Black eyes me for a moment, like she knows me. “How experienced are you, Avery?”
I freeze, and my shoulders straighten. I turn to her slowly. My answer must be written across my face, because Miss Black smiles at me with that smile people have when they discover something serendipitous.
Miss Black hands me another card. This one is black with white letters. My reflex is to take it. “That also has its own set of rules and prices.” I squirm under her gaze. I wonder how she can tell. I hold the card in my hand without looking at it, heart pounding.
Mel isn’t following, “What has its own rules?”
“Your friend is a virgin,” Miss Black says, pleased.
CHAPTER 4
My face flames red, but I can’t move. I flip the little black card over and look at it, expecting the number to be smaller, but it isn’t. It’s bigger, with a lot of zeros. I don’t understand. Glancing up at Miss Black, I ask, “Why is it more?” I thought it’d be less. Who’d want to pay to fuck a virgin? I don’t know what I’m doing, like at all.