CHAPTER FIVE
Adara
The stage hands unhooked me from the flying apparatus as I struggled to make my legs hold me up. I was lightheaded, my blood pounding through my veins. I felt like I could fly to the top of the roof without ropes to lift me.
Though I dreaded this particular stage and show, my reaction was always this way after performing. It had been since I started performing in dinky bars when I wasn’t even old enough to drink.
Performing transformed me, and for the time I was on stage, I was in another, better place. I could pretend that I was still the star who sold out shows and was known around the world.
Reality quickly crashed in the minute my feet touched the stage, the pain knifing up my leg to remind me I wasn’t whole. And the world had forgotten about me.
“Amazing show tonight,” Janis whispered, who at twenty-one and no more than ninety-five pounds, looked like a tiny doll as she stood in line waiting her turn to be presented on stage.
I gave her my warmest smile. “Thanks.”
Of all the women at Jewel, Janis was my favorite. She exuded innocence and kindness.
The other women, while very beautiful, were deep into the business. Jewel was their entire life and in most cases, the people here were their only family. No one ever mentioned their distaste for the work. To them, it was their only world. We never spoke of wanting other lives or jobs. No one even considered the thought. If someone got too old to get offers, found a boyfriend who disapproved or threatened a lawsuit against the company or became pregnant, they just disappeared.
Janis was different.
“Good luck,” I said, instantly regretting it. “Sorry, I wasn’t supposed to say that. I keep forgetting.”
Janis giggled. “It’s fine to say whatever you want to me, but ‘have a good night’ is more standard for everyone else.”
She was right. At Jewel, “have a good night” translated to hope-you-end-up-with-someone-nice-and-make-a-lot-of-money.” She glanced to the stage and wrung her hands together. She was the next to go out on the runway.
“Have a good night then.”
She winked at me, took a deep breath, and walked out on stage, her hips swaying a slow, erotic beat.
I quickly turned away. I didn’t want to see her go out there, nor did I want to see the looks on the men’s faces. It was too much for me to bear.
Grateful the night was over, I was on my way to the rear exit when Brandy sprinted toward me, her heels clacking on the marble floor. When she caught up, she grabbed my upper arm and leaned on me a bit, her breath coming in fast little puffs.
I frowned and wished I was able to run too. I just wanted to get back to my room where the surroundings were semi normal, everything wasn’t neat and orchestrated, and the opulence didn’t cling like a silently oppressive spirit. But this was Brandy, and she’d talked me down from my panic, so I held back my first instinct to snap.
The expression she wore was the one she usually did when in the main building, practically a plastic façade, without true expression. “Hey, A… Mona. Wasn’t as bad as you thought, right? You were so wonderful, as usual.”
Brandy’s bubbly, “you were so wonderful” approach always meant that she had something else up her sleeve, but at least she’d remembered to call me Mona. Nights at Jewel were very stressful affairs. Anything could and often did go wrong, so checking in on my wellbeing would be very low on her priority list.
“What is it?” I was annoyed that I needed to be on guard with the only friend I had left. All I wanted to do was go back to my apartment, have a glass of chardonnay and watch mindless television.
Brandy’s eyes lit, and she flipped her hair over her shoulder. “You’re seriously the best thing that’s happened to Jewel in a long time.”
“Ha ha. We’ve already been over this, I’m no match for Gina’s golden vagina, remember?” I resumed walking, but I couldn’t walk faster than Brandy. The crippled leg and damn cane kept me moving at a lumbering pace. I pushed my body against the door as I opened it, desperate to be away from all the fakeness surrounding me. It was only drizzling, the storm having moved on, and I breathed deep, taking in the cold mountain air.
“Well, apparently you are.” Brandy beamed as I stepped out, holding on to the door for her. “A match, I mean.”
I stopped dead in my tracks. “What do you mean?”
“We have an offer I don’t think you’ll want to refuse.” She laid a steadying hand on my shoulder.
It took every ounce of restraint in my body not to yank away from her hand and let the door slap her in the face. “Whoever it is can go fuck himself with his offer. I’m not a wh—” I caught the word in my throat. I wasn’t a whore, but these other women were, and I had no right to insult them. God knew, I’d behaved whorishly in my glory days.
“Before you whip out your nunchucks, hear me out.” Her hand on my shoulder now gave a gentle squeeze, as if to hold me in place.
“You have one minute. I’m off the clock.” I gritted my teeth and didn’t dare look her in the eye.
“Why don’t we discuss this in your dressing room?” she suggested as she ushered me the short distance to the dressing house.
I could barely breathe by the time we reached my dressing room. I began stripping off the gauzy outfit as soon as we got inside. Brandy, however, had been moving slow and methodically. She wasn’t in a hurry. My internal alarms were blaring.
“These are all so showy.” As she spoke, she rifled through my costumes, her voice deliberately lofty. She looked at each piece hanging on the dressing rack with a discerning scrutiny.
“They’re designed for me. I fly around the room with massive wings in gold lamé, so showy works. What’s going on?”
She slowly faced me, and my stomach twisted with nausea. “What would you say if we got an offer for a clothed conversation, nothing more.” Her eyes met mine with an expression of confidence and satisfaction. “Do you think you can do that for me? You probably wouldn’t have been able to hold off offers forever, and this way, you’ll be making management happy.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “You know I have a contract, Brandy. I don’t have to accept offers.”
She was right though. I probably couldn’t wiggle my way out of an offer that didn’t include any sex or nudity at all. And if I did, everyone would probably hate me.
When Brandy offered me the job at Jewel, I was down to my last few bucks and had no idea what to do. After spending nearly two years in a dark and debilitating depression, I needed to crawl my way out of the hole any way I could. I needed this gig. The pay was decent, and it came with a place to live as well as a contract that stated sex, sexual play, nudity, and anything at all outside of six rehearsed and scheduled performances a week would be at my discretion.
I just stared at Brandy, not wanting to commit to something that might lead where I didn’t want to go. If I accepted this offer, from whatever lonely bastard wanted to sit for an hour and talk to me, what kind of slippery slope would I be careening down?
“He’s offered fifty thousand dollars for an innocent conversation, Adara. That’s unheard of. Your take would be seventy-five hundred, paid out tonight. That’s a lot better than pay for a week’s worth of performances. I mean, this is a no brainer.” Brandy plopped herself down on the small velvet chair angled in the corner of the tiny room. “Only problem I see is getting you something decent to wear. It’s got to be up to Jewel’s standards.”
My eyes fell to her cleavage. “You mean it’s gotta show my tits.” Jewels never wore much, even if their clothes were classy.
Brandy looked at me with an expression that conveyed both hurt and annoyance. “Don’t worry, I’ll find you something. All you have to do is say yes.”
Her head bobbed as she looked me up and down appraisingly, like she was a diva checking out another. This was a strange sisterhood, where we weighed the value of our bodies against the needs of our survival.
I looked at the woman I’d spent most of my childhood with and realized what a snake she’d become. She was a great businesswoman, no doubt, but she was an even greater pimp.
“I live by my own rules, Brandy. I won’t be coerced.” I bit my lip so I wouldn’t say more.
When I was on the road, selling out stadiums, hitting the charts with number one singles and living the life of an overnight pop sensation, I was known to have an attitude. I could afford one. I was always loyal to my friends. Never threw them under the bus. Including Brandy. I hooked the girl up with whatever she wanted. Sadly, she was always too in the moment to care about the future. Now, the future was staring us in the face, looking ugly and scary.
She lifted a brow. “So, what would it take?”
“Just talk, no touching. I’ll only allow ten questions, five of mine and five of his.” I sat and peeled the body suit down my torso. “And I wear my own clothes. I’m not a whore, and I won’t dress like one.”
Tension spiked in her as her back flattened and her eyes narrowed. “We don’t call our sisters whores, Adara. You know that.”
“Mona,” I snapped.
“Yes, ma’am, Ms. Mona Arc.” Her voice was as hard as the line of her lips pressed together as she struggled to keep her composure. “And your offer is ridiculous. Why not let the poor man talk to you and see your fucking tits, instead of playing Twenty Questions cut in half? Would that be so hard?”
I growled under my breath. “I’m not showing anyone my tits. And I damn well don’t have to take any offer if I don’t want to. So, I’ll allow ten questions and nothing more. A Jewel would give him a better ending, but I won’t be a Jewel. Final offer.”
“Fine,” she conceded on an exhale, her voice trembling almost imperceptibly. “I just have one more thing.”
I sighed. Good, she was nervous. Now we were having fun. “I love you more than anyone in the world, but like any sister, you get on my nerves more than you don’t. What is it?”
“I’ve one last proposal to share with you, and before you jump down my throat or threaten my life, I want you to hear me out.” Her head lilted forward, and she held up her hand. I immediately knew she’d drawn a truce.
Whatever was coming next wasn’t her doing, maybe none of it was. She didn’t have any more choices than I did. I always forgot that.
“I’m listening.” I rolled my head on my shoulders, stretching out the tight muscles.
“Jack Marshall has made another offer for you tonight.” She paused, and since I didn’t raise an objection right away, continued, talking faster the more she got out. “I know what your answer is going to be and how you feel about his offer.”
“I—”
She held up a hand. “Before you refuse again, I want you to listen. When Harmon and I started dating, he wanted to… I don’t know, see if I could survive in this environment, test me out. Since Jack is part owner of the club, and he and Harmon are good friends, they thought, you know, it’d be a good next step in our relationship.”
“Bran—”
She kept going. “Jack met me with a bottle of Cristal, wearing a bathrobe in one of our pleasure rooms. That was the first time. I’ve had sex with him on several occasions. He’s not into crazy kinky stuff, no ass play, no toes, just kiss a little, get him going, and let him do his thing.”
“I’m—”
Tears welled in her eyes. “He gets off in about nine minutes. His dick’s so small you won’t even know it’s there. Do you know how much he paid for me?”
Brandy never cried. Ever. And although they hadn’t fallen yet, the gleam of them softened me. “Brandy, I’m really sorry Harmon did that to you, but you know I’ve never liked him.”
Maybe this was her cry for help. Maybe that’s what this was about.
The tears in her reddening eyes threatened to spill over, but she held them back. “I didn’t ask if you liked Harmon, I want you to know how much Jack Marshall paid for me to have sex with him.”
“I-I don’t know.”
“He gave me a pair of red Jimmy Choos his wife couldn’t wear because she was pregnant, and her feet were too swollen. Do you know how much he’s offered for you this time?” She sniffed hard and made her face carefully blank again, but I knew she was hanging on a thin wire of shame, disappointment, and regret.
“I don’t care. I—”
“One million dollars, and Harmon wants to sweeten the deal with an increase in the fifteen percent payout to thirty if delivered tonight. That’s three hundred thousand tax-free dollars you can put in your bank account tonight after fucking a man for twenty minutes. Even Gina’s pussy has never come close to this. Million-dollar girls don’t come around that often, Adara. This is like the Grammy Awards—”
I lifted a finger. “It’s Mona. And don’t go there. Don’t you dare.” I inhaled deeply, forcing myself to relax. “Listen, Brandy, I’m sorry the man you love pimped you out for a fucking bottle of champagne and a pair of shoes. That tells you something.” I was keeping my tone measured and precise, my eyes never leaving hers. “Here’s my answer to your offers. You can tell Mr. Marshall that he can take his tiny dick and shove it into his wife, where it belongs. As far as the other gentleman goes, I will meet with him, but this is a one-time thing.”
I was done with the conversation, and Brandy knew it.
Brandy stared at me. Was it jealousy I saw hiding behind her world-weary eyes? “You won’t be young and talented forever. Think about the future.”
I wasn’t sure what she had to be jealous of. I stood, my shock probably evident on my face. “I think about my future every day.”
The muscle popped her jaw. “Oh, come on, Mona. If I don’t slap you back to reality, who will?”
Reality. Like I needed a reminder.
I pulled on a pair of black wool pants to hide my brace and a silk blouse that nicely accented my curves but didn’t give away the farm — mostly so I wouldn’t resemble any of the Jewels. So I’d look different. “I’m ready.”
“Don’t be mad,” Brandy said softly, her hand moving to my shoulder. “You have to forget about your past, not just run away from it. You got lucky. The poor foster kid who became a famous rock star. It all died with Nate, sweetie, and now the world’s moved on.”
“Bran—”
Her hand began to stroke my upper arm, a comforting gesture to soften the words. “One fuck for a mil won’t change anything, but it sure will give you some financial freedom. You don’t want to be chained to Jewel until you’re so old you have to sell yourself to the fetish crowd, do you? It’s only one night.”
Even though she spoke with care and concern shining in her eyes, Brandy’s diatribe had my spine stiffening, turning me as cold as an icicle. Who was this blonde bombshell standing in front of me? I must have been wrong. We weren’t friends, didn’t share a bond like sisters.
I willed the cold to creep in deeper… deeper… until I couldn’t feel the stab of pain in my heart. Raising my chin, I said in my haughty I’m-a-star-you’re-a-peon voice, “Please let the communication-only client know I’ve accepted, on the condition there will be no touching. And, Brandy, don’t ever ask me to sell myself again.”
Never one to be embarrassed, Brandy’s face flushed as she turned to leave the room. “I’ll let the house know.”
I shivered as the door closed behind her. Jack owned part of this club. If the owners of Jewel decided my safety was no longer a priority, there would be nothing I could do to stop them.
Had Brandy pulled me out of my personal hell, only to deliver me to another one?