The red gown is around my hips. I’m trying to shimmy it up as she speaks, but it won’t go over my curves. The zipper bites into my thigh. Miss Black stares at me with an expression on her face that makes me nervous. “It doesn’t seem to fit.” I step out of the dress and look down at the fabric in my hands
She doesn’t answer. Miss Black steps around her desk, and takes the dress from my hands. She snaps, “Bra off. Now.” She’s practically tapping her foot. I have no idea what she’s doing. That dress won’t fit me. My hips are too wide. I don’t have the guts to refuse, and I need to go on this date, so I yank off my bra and drop it on the chair next to me.
“Arms over your head,” she says and I pull my hands together on top of my head like I’m going to jump off a diving board. Miss Black manages to slip the gown over my head without messing up my hair. The buttery fabric falls into place, clinging to my curves. “Turn,” she snaps. I turn around and Miss Black inches up the invisible zipper on the side of the gown. I can barely breathe, it’s so tight.
“There,” Miss Black says when the dress is on. “Go look in the mirror behind the door.”
I turn from her, walk to the office door, and close it. There’s a full length mirror for me to see my entire figure in this dress. When I look at the glass, I can’t believe it. I look older, more mature, with more curves than I ever dreamed possible. The dress makes my waist look tiny, while making my boobs look ginormous. Even my hips look perfect in this dress. I’m a bombshell, all feminine curves with each and every one on display.
I can’t find my voice at first. I’m shocked. “Holy… this dress is amazing.”
“Yes, it certainly is. Come over here.” I walk toward her slowly. The gown is fitted and clings to my body. It doesn’t flare out until it hits my knee. If I had to chase my car down Deer Park Avenue, I wouldn’t be able to run in this thing. It’s so clingy.
“This is your date for the evening. His name is Henry Thomas. Normally, we don’t divulge full names, but he needed an escort for a business meeting. You are to be cordial and polite. Speak when spoken to, but otherwise you are an ornament—arm candy. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
Miss Black narrows her eyes at me. “If you blow this Avery, you have no place here. There are no more chances, no more do-overs. And, the debt will be taken in a different way, and believe me—you don’t want that. So no matter what happens, you are to make sure that Mr. Thomas has a wonderful night.”
I nod slowly, wondering how else they’d take the debt. Swallowing hard, I ask, “What if he wants more? I mean, does he know that things are…” I don’t know what to call it. “Does he know that there’s no sex?”
“Yes, he knows.” Miss Black leans her hip back against her desk. “He requested an escort for a business transaction. Your presence makes the meeting have a more social feel, which he thought would benefit both parties. Tension and testosterone often end poorly. Adding a beautiful woman to the mix makes things more palatable.
“If Mr. Thomas requires additional services, they will not be tonight. There are no changes once a contract is executed. You are expected to act familiar, touch his hand or shoulder, kiss him if he deems it appropriate, but that is all. He is aware of the rules. Since, things have gone poorly for you, Gabe will be your driver tonight. He’ll be watching you and reporting back to me. If things are not up to par tonight, Miss Stanz—”
I cut her off, understanding her warning. “They will be. I will be everything you expect and more. I promise.” She nods, but looks skeptical. After a moment, I ask, “How many times do I have to do this to pay back the money I owe?”
“Too many, Avery. Odds are, you’ll have to be promoted to a call girl again to be able to earn that kind of money. If you manage to do well tonight, I’ll make it happen. There was a gentlemen here yesterday asking about someone like you.”
My heart is stone. The idea of having another man’s hands on me doesn’t make me shiver anymore. I know what I need to do. I know that I need to steel myself so that I feel nothing. Mel’s plan of having fun didn’t work. I seem to be monogamous to my core. It’s not exactly unexpected, but I’m still surprised. I guess I want what everyone else wants—someone to love. Love and sex aren’t the same thing. I know that now. I should have known it before, but that simple fact never fully sunk in.
“Thank you,” I manage. Thank you for letting me be a hooker. Thank you for being my pimp.