Thomas had looked tense and unhappy when she’d first spotted him on the tram, and that was before he’d even seen her. He looked just as tense and unhappy now, or perhaps a little more so. It seemed obvious to her the man was suffering. He couldn’t bear to be touched, kept breaking out in a sweat every time she got too near, and seemed to be having a hard time even looking at her.
They turned out of the short alleyway and onto a street, or what she assumed was a street. One side was separated from the other by a wide canal with bridges crossing over it at either end. Inez found herself gawking around at their surroundings. Much to her surprise it was all quite pretty. The buildings were all pressed up tight against each other and all were at least three, and sometimes four or even five, stories high. Some were very narrow buildings with only two windows on each floor, others were wider with three, but every one seemed to have businesses on the ground floor and everywhere she looked, lights twinkled out at her. Even the bridges had lights running in arcs on the arches over the water.
They passed bars, clubs, and sex shops at the outer fringe of this area and then—
Inez stopped dead and gaped at the row of windows lit up in red. Some had their curtains pulled, the cloth glowing red from the light beyond and one or two held empty chairs with signs that said be right back, but most had women in them, all dressed in lingerie or some other scanty bit of cloth. It was like a glass candy display case with the women as the candy. Bemused by it all, Inez began to dig in her purse.
Thomas turned back when he realized he’d lost her. Returning to her side, he frowned and asked, “What are you looking for?”
“My cell phone,” Inez answered, checking the side pockets when she didn’t find it in the middle pocket. Feeling it at last, she pulled it out triumphantly. “Ah, ha!”
“Who are you calling?” Thomas asked with bewilderment.
“I’m not.” She flipped the cell phone open and started to raise it. “My phone has a camera built in. I want to take a picture.”
Much to her amazement, Thomas stepped in front of her, blocking her view of the windows.
“No pictures,” he said quietly. “It isn’t allowed.”
“What?” Inez asked with surprise and then glanced around. Spotting a man not three feet away with a huge honking camera in hand that he was focusing on the windows, she pointed him out. “Look, he’s—”
Her words died abruptly as a shriek rent the air. Glancing toward the windows, she saw a fully clothed, short, skinny older woman pushing her way past one of the young women in the windows to rush out of what turned out not to be a window at all, but a windowed door.
Inez’s eyes widened incredulously as she went after the man with the camera, berating him for trying to take pictures. The man was backpedaling away, his eyes wide and horrified.
“Move,” Thomas growled.
Inez drew her gaze from the dispute on the street and glanced toward Thomas. The moment she was looking his way he began to walk again, forcing her to either follow or lose him in the crowd. Sighing, Inez set out reluctantly after him. She’d really rather stay and see what happened here, but didn’t want to lose him.
“Why won’t they allow pictures?” she asked, glancing back over her shoulder where the man with the camera was offering money to the upset woman. Both Inez and the man flinched when the woman smacked the money away and continued to rage at him.
When Thomas didn’t answer, she glanced around, and spotted two large men now coming out of the open windowed door to join the little woman. She was suddenly very glad that Thomas had prevented her taking a picture. It looked to her like the man with the camera was about to be in even more trouble.
Realizing that Thomas was continuing forward without her, she hurried after him. “Thomas? Why are they so upset about his taking pictures?”
“Privacy,” Thomas said through gritted teeth as she caught up. “The women don’t want to be photographed, and neither do most of the men who visit them. It’s bad for business. Who would want to visit a prostitute if there was a chance his picture will be taken?”
“Oh, yes, of course,” Inez said quietly as she slipped her phone back in her purse. For a moment there she’d forgotten what the women did in those little rooms when the curtains closed. Somehow it’s all being out in the open like that had made it seem more like some sort of attraction at a fair than what it really was: prostitution. It was the atmosphere that did it, she realized as she glanced over their surroundings again. The area was well lit, and the setting almost romantic with the lights reflecting off the canal. The walkways were neat, the buildings tidy. There was no garbage lying around, no graffiti, all the buildings appeared well maintained and tidy in this light, and the people they were passing were mostly tourists, groups of men, couples, and groups of couples, all dressed in casual but nice clothes, laughing and talking as they walked along the street, peering in the windows with more curiosity than lecherous intent.