That night as we exit the diner, a black town car pulls up to the curb. The large man I saw talking to Earl comes around to open the back door, introduces himself to me as Vin and then tells me to get in. As we’re driven to my tiny apartment, it dawns on me I wasn’t ever asked where I live. I feel my intuitions were right; I was being watched. Once we arrive, she tells me only to get the things that truly mean something to me; as for as the rest, it is unnecessary. Everything I will need will be furnished by her from now on. With a small laundry basket of things in my arm and a click of the door closing behind me, I leave my old life behind and start anew.

Catherine sets me up in an upscale apartment. I find it a more than generous start to our relationship. The apartment has an open floor plan, all done in light colors. There are two bedrooms and two bathrooms. It’s the view of the river that has me in awe; it’s incredible, more than I ever expected. It’s hard to imagine me living here. It’s a far cry from the crappy place I grew up in.

First thing after showing me where I would be staying, she sits in a chair and asks me to strip down to show her my body. I’m shocked; I can’t tell if she’s joking or not.

I try to argue, telling her that I refuse. I mention how absurd it is to be asked to do something like this. But I fail in my argument. I begin to see the anger in her facial expression from my reluctance. She claims she needs to see what she’s working with, since my old jeans, baggy shirt, and cardigan give nothing away. She also tells me our relationship and end goal will never work if I don’t listen and follow her instructions to the tee. Right then, I decide there is no going back.

Embarrassment runs through me as I take off layer after layer, waiting for her scrutiny. My mind spirals as I wonder what she’s thinking as she gawks at me. Is she thinking about what her son would think? This whole situation is warped. I can’t fathom anyone having to deal with this. Catherine’s eyes rake over my body from head to toe, sending shivers through me. Did I make the wrong choice to come?

After a few minutes, she lifts her eyes and gives me a gentle smile. She then looks at me and says, “Beautiful.”

I lose all speech. I’ve never been appraised this way. She seems to appreciate my curves, as she compliments me on something I have always tried to hide from everyone.

She then asks, “Why have you been hiding away under all those clothes? Did you not want to be desired?” Pausing, she gives me a confused look.

Should I tell her? How do you explain that I hated unwanted eyes all over me?

“Never mind, don’t answer that. I understand; it was a way of protecting yourself, sheltering you from the desire of others, to survive. All that changes now. You will be desired from now on. You will be protected by me, and then my son. He will look at you and see all your beauty. He will never let another man touch you. Do you understand?”

With my head down, I listen as she says all these things to me. I quickly realize I do want that, all of it. So, I lift my face to her and answer with great reverie, “Yes.”

The next few months are like a whirlwind. During that time, she has clothes delivered to my apartment. There is a chef in and out of my kitchen, who comes to cook for me, as well as teach me how to cook. Catherine says it’s unlikely I will ever have to cook, but it is something everyone should know how to do. I am given an etiquette coach who teaches me how to walk in heels, sit properly, and eat with grace at social gatherings. This is a challenge, to say the least. I can’t believe how many utensils and plates it takes to have a civil and proper meal. She also has a trainer come in every other day to do cardio, yoga, and Pilates. She says it’s necessary for me to be in shape. She says if she knows her boys at all, I will need the stamina.

Then come the stylists. They come to teach me how to dress, about different brands of clothing, and which styles look best on me. They are also there to teach me what is acceptable to certain functions. I enjoy it, but then the other types of stylists come in, the ones who cut and color my hair.

They then move on to the removal of my hair on my brows and my “shaggy carpet”, as they call it. There is no hair left anywhere on my body. I am mortified. By the time they are all finished, I am utter perfection. My hair remains dark, but now it is glazed to shine, and my skin is glowing. I barely recognize myself.

Early into my new life, Catherine comes back to the apartment with a professor. He is to teach me all things academic. Catherine claims street smarts are most important for being able to read and manipulate people. Book smarts, however, are necessary to keep my future husband interested and to help in social circles. Intelligence is the key to success, no matter where it may be required, such as the streets, boardroom, glamorous balls, or even in the bedroom. A man’s mistress is allowed the luxury of ignorance, but never a wife.

Professor Stanley Givens is an older gentleman, not overly attractive, but not ugly. Stately, I would say. He has salt and pepper hair around the sides, and he wears thick black glasses. He is to come every day until I am ready, and he becomes a thorn in my side. Education was never something I worried about.

I finally get around to asking, “Catherine, when will I be ready, and how long before I meet your son?”

Catherine laughs and says, “You, my dear, are far too naïve and young for my son. It will take time to prepare you. All in due time. Put forth the effort, and it will all be worth it.”

She leaves after that, and I don’t see her for some time.

During the rest of the year, she visits about twice a month to get updates on my progress.

As of today, I continually ask her when I will be ready. She shakes her head says, “Patience, my dear, is a virtue you are learning every day. Remember, all in due time.”

Still baffled, I ask for more information. “What’s your son’s name? I know you said he was good looking, but tell me something a little more about him?”

Still, she denies me any more information, although she seems very pleased with all my progress; I guess just not enough to divulge more.

Catherine says she had a surprise for me for my nineteenth birthday. A trip to gain culture. I am excited for the change of scenery. I’m never allowed much time to venture around, especially not without my guard Vin. He follows me around everywhere. He’s unusually large, muscular, and he is so quiet, almost as if he’s not allowed to get to know me. I have no idea where Catherine plans on taking me, and I don’t care. A trip anywhere is exactly what I need.

On my birthday, Catherine picks me up in a limo that takes us to a private airstrip, where a private jet waits to take us to Paris. I have never been out of the state; now here I am flying to another country. I am beyond thrilled, but scared since I have never flown. Catherine watches as my panic rises, but she remains stoic, not offering any comfort. Mary, our flight attendant, helps calm me till I am put at ease. I am not overly surprised that Catherine didn’t offer me any comfort. She’s a hard woman, and she treats me as if I’m a business transaction. However, I am surprised hours later when we are about to land, she sits next to me and holds my hand without saying a word.

As we drive through the city at night, the lights that are lighting up the city are spectacular. I feel like I’m dreaming. As my excitement rises, Catherine reminds me this is the dream I will now live in. She says from now on I must learn to be socially accepted. That alone terrifies me. How will I be able to hold my own amongst people who lead this kind of life?

We stay at the Shangri-La Hotel, in the penthouse of course. Where we have a beautiful, perfect view of the Eiffel Tower. Before I can express my appreciation for this vacation, Catherine tells me to go change in my private room. She says there will be a gown and accessories waiting for me. My goodness, she’s right; everything, like she said, is laid out on my bed. I’ve never seen anything like my dress before, an Oscar de la Renta, champagne colored dress. As the dress moves, it almost looks like liquid moving with my body. It is sleeveless and long to the ground. She has a stylist come in and finish me off. Later, Catherine comes from out of her room, looking stunning.

She gazes at me with appreciation. “You will make my son a beautiful bride one day!”

I respond with a shy, “Thank you.”

In the car, Catherine then explains we will be going to the opera. Then she says, “Listen, Fallon, it’s time for our lessons to begin. Are you ready?”

“Yes!”

“Lesson one is about how to hold yourself up to the stares and scrutiny. Always walk with grace, walk like you own the room. Never cower or shy away from anyone’s gaze. It shows confidence, which equals strength. You are not below anyone there, do you hear me, girl?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Second, that face and that body are meant to be seen. They are no longer allowed to be covered. They’re yours, no one else’s. Your body is to be treated with respect. You have worked hard for it, and it shows. Learn to use it to your advantage. You will show touches of yourself here and there. Just enough to pique a man’s interest. It is all about the mystery; the fantasy. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good, because we’re here.”

Pulling up to the opera house, I start to get scared. People are everywhere, all dressed to the nines. As Catherine and I exit the limo, eyes immediately land upon us. I follow Catherine’s lead. As we stroll to our balcony seats, I become so nervous with all the attention we were receiving. But I hold my head up high, just like I was instructed.

As we are seated, she speaks again as she gestures around our surroundings.

“Culture surrounds us; soak it in, digest it. Becoming fully aware of your surroundings is always beneficial to one’s wit. Culture gives you class. Class is necessary to learn. No one wants to deal with a person who is not well-rounded. Now, when these lights turn low, your first lesson on seduction will begin. Are you ready?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Fallon, when we walked in, people started to notice you. They all want to know who you are and where you came from. The men started to fantasize about you.”

My eyes go wide and my head lowers.

“Fallon, don’t look shocked. You are a gorgeous girl, now own it. Now, when the lights turn down, I want you to get the attention of as many men as you can. Your goal is to gain their attention away from their respective dates.”

“How?” I ask.

“By using seduction, your face can be very persuasive without even saying a simple word. It’s all about expression. You can show a man attention with a simple gaze. A gaze that lets him know you desire him. Look beneath his layers, look deeper using your eyes. Use your eyes to look into his soul. Does he want a shy, naïve, innocent type of girl, or does he want a bold, sultry woman? Learn his movements in his expression. It will tell you everything you need to learn about what that man wants.”

“But Catherine, I am that innocent girl.”

“Ah, but he will not know that. The art of seduction is about to begin. You will be no expert after the end of the opera, but it’s a start. By the time we leave, you want as many of them as you can get with their tongues hanging out and their tails wagging between their legs. We will leave them without a word. Not one word, Fallon. We will leave them with the mystery of you.”

As the lights start to lower, I search around for any eye to catch. To my surprise, it isn’t hard; I have a couple of gentlemen looking at me. My first victim is an older man with silver hair. As he looks at me, I start to notice slight changes in his movements. At first, I can’t continue, so I look away, feeling ashamed. I don’t think I can do this, but I know I have to. Then I notice with a slight lift of my head he is more enthralled with me at my indifference. It seems to make him more excited to get my attention, almost as if he is aching for it.

As we continue to play the game back and forth, I get the attention of another man. He smiles; this one is younger. He seems to like my smile, so I play coy and give him innocent little smiles back. I go back and forth between the two. Then I notice one more man staring; he seems to notice me looking at the other gentlemen. I continue to flirt with him over the rest of the opera. It’s actually kind of fun, by the time the opera’s over. Vin stands behind us, waiting for us to exit. He stands guard like a bulldog. As we walk to the exit of the opera house, I have the three men trying to continue their flirtations. Two are brave enough to try to speak to me. Vin stands guard diligently and refuses to allow them to get close to me. I follow Catherine out. We escape the glares by entering the limo. Catherine turns to look at me with what seems like pride. I start to blush. I must admit, I am proud of myself, too. The next day, Catherine informs me that all three men are asking all around for me, giving my description, knowing nothing else about me. She claims I am doing an excellent job. A few more days of shopping and culture seeking come and go. We leave Paris at night and return home, where Vin and I are dropped off back at my apartment. Catherine says she will see me in a couple of days. All the while, my training continues.

In the next year, I learn so much academically that I don’t know how I hold it all in. My brain just becomes a sponge. I continue to ask Catherine about my future husband but I’m never given any answers. On my twentieth birthday, Catherine again takes me on a vacation; this time we go to Spain. It is wonderful, and again I am tested on the art of seduction. This time, however, she takes me to a gala fundraiser.

She explains that I am to speak to men this time. “Fallon, in this next lesson you will learn how to use your intellect on men. Begin with listening to his grammar, and any hint of an accent. Also, his body language will tell you whether you pique his interest. Follow his lead at first, then regain your control of the conversation. Lead him into where you want to end it. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Fantastic. Let me introduce you to some gentlemen, then we will see how well you can spin your weave.”

Catherine introduces me as an acquaintance to two men: Fredrick, a well-groomed man with a hearty laugh; and Carlos, a Spaniard with a very seductive look. He is hard to understand, not vocally, but physically. Carlos is so tense. How am I to overpower these men intellectually? I brush away my self-doubt and decide to go forth. Frederick starts the conversation by talking about a charity. As he continues to discuss the prices of the tickets, I notice Carlos staring me up and down. Making me extremely nervous. They talk about their new adventures and business dealings. I start to notice subtle changes in both men, so I have to start changing the conversation. I begin talking about Hemingway, of all things; at least it’s a change in conversation. I start talking about how the man wrote his books and lived his life. They become enthralled with me. I have them hooked.

By the time Catherine is satisfied, she wants to leave. I have Frederick begging for a date to another charity gala, all expenses paid of course. Then Carlos invites me back to his private island for his long overdue relaxation, a vacation in which I am sure he wants to be laid between my legs. After a stern look from Catherine, we are now allowed to exit gracefully. As we make our way back to our penthouse, Catherine is thrilled with my progress. She says I owned the room and made her very proud. Again, I am like a child excited to gain the approval of her mother. I’m over the moon.