Chapter 3
Sydney
I got the call back from the Chicago Buyer’s Club on Saturday evening. By that time I had given up on the idea, and even Julia stopped urging me to call them again. But then again, Julia had spent most of the weekend out in the city, bar-trotting, as I called it.
Back on Thursday, after Julia had gone to sleep, I finished that bottle of wine and, of course, picked up that flier. Twice I dialed the number and hung up before it could connect, laughing at myself and ridiculing the idea. Yet, every time I remembered why I would even consider doing it, I thought it was a good plan. After all, getting a few hundred for a couple of drinks with some spoiled jerk wasn’t too bad. And judging by the level of secrecy, no one would ever know!
So, I finally called and forced myself to sit through half a dozen rings, expecting to hear a voice of some sleazy old man, but to my surprise, it wasn’t.
“Evening. Chicago Buyer’s Club.” There was a slight European accent to the woman’s voice, but just distinguishable enough to be sexy.
“Um, evening,” I replied, realizing I had no idea what to say.
“Are you a young lady willing to take part in our Lonely Hearts event on Sunday? There is still a spot or two left for only the sexiest women.”
Intrigued by her velvety voice, I said, “Yeah. Yes, I think I am interested.” I felt like I was in a spy movie, talking in code. “I do have a lonely heart.” Wasn’t that the truth? Between taking care of Declan and working more than full time, I couldn’t even remember the last time I had felt a man’s touch.
“I believe we can help with that. Please, state your name, parameters, and, if possible, send a link to your social media profile to this number after we’re finished.”
So, I did, I was proud of my looks. A blue-eyed blonde, an ex-gymnast with curves in all the right places. I was sure they’d at least give me a good look.
“Brilliant,” the woman replied. “We shall review your application and contact you with further details. You can call this number any time. Ask for Ava.”
“Um, okay. Thanks.”
It was a short call, and I didn’t think much of it. It felt wrong somehow, but exciting at the same time. So, when my phone went off on that Saturday evening and I recognized the number, my heart started beating ten times faster. I didn’t know what to do at first and wished Julia was there to give me a kick in the butt.
I jumped to my feet and paced the room.
Okay, okay, just breathe. Don’t get your hopes up, maybe they want to tell you you’re out.
When I felt calm enough, I swiped the screen and answered.
“Evening. Sydney Mercer?” it was Ava.
“Yes, it’s me.”
“I’m calling to let you know that we have evaluated your application and would like to invite you to our event tomorrow evening at eight o’clock.”
I was speechless. Was I really doing this? I was thinking of all sorts of insane things. Of what I would tell my brother, and that I had work early on Monday, and that it was probably some clerical error or a practical joke…
“I will be there,” I uttered, to my own surprise.
“Brilliant! Please, dress comfortably. You will be on the list. Have a good night now, Sydney.”
Ava hung up without giving me a chance to reply, so I was left staring at the phone, wondering if this conversation had really taken place. The call log proved it had.
Wow.
I quickly texted Julia, reciting the dialogue, word for word, and started pacing the room again. I was really doing this! What should I wear? Ava said to dress comfortably, but surely if there would be millionaires at this “Lonely Hearts” event, then I would need to be dressed to impress. Did I even have clothes suitable for that? I would have to borrow something from my roommate…
+++
That night, when Julia came home, and all day on Sunday, we tried on dresses, before finally settling on a nice black dress and a small handbag of a recognizable brand, which I had bought a few years before, when I had money. I figured I couldn’t go wrong with such a classic look.
“Are you sure about it?” I asked.
“The dress? Totally!”
“No, this whole… thing,” I said with a sigh.
“Look at it this way. Do you need money? If the answer is yes, then go for it and never look back.”
“But that’s true for any number of things,” I countered.
“Name three more things you would rather do to make some cash overnight. Realistically.”
“Point taken.”
It was a good and only point, really. What was the worst that could happen? It’s not like I had any plans for the weekend, anyway.
We had a light late lunch, and then Julia gave me a ride to the club, giving me a last-minute prep talk.
“I know some guys from the club, and they’re cool, but if something doesn’t feel right, you just text me and I’ll pick you up. I’ll be in the neighborhood until three.”
“Thanks, Mom!”
“Syd, I’m serious.”
“It was your idea, Julia. I’ll be fine.” I checked my nails and my dress once again, checked my handbag – cell, keys, money. All set.
Chicago Buyer’s Club was located in central Chicago. It was nice, but nothing about the street screamed this is where billionaires hang out! But I couldn’t know for sure. I assumed most of those guys were crazy secretive anyway.
The front of the club looked more like a bar, stylized to look like a pub that had seen better days. I heard muffled music coming from inside. Suddenly, I didn’t want to go in. I stopped in my tracks. What the hell was I doing?
But only one thing came to mind. Declan.
So I put one foot in front of the other and pushed forward. I had to do this, for him.
There was a guy at the entrance. He was too small to be a bouncer, but he looked like he was standing there with a purpose.
“Is this, um,” I lowered my voice: “the Chicago Buyer’s Club?”
The guy smiled. “Charming. It is. Are you here for the tonight’s event?”
“Yes. I’m Sydney Mercer, they said I’d be on a list?”
He got out his phone and scrolled for a moment, then said, “Checks out. Follow me.”
He led me through the half-empty bar area towards a door that said Staff Only, and let me step through first. It was a peculiar feeling, and I thought this must be what Julia had felt the first time she began waiting tables. Being on the other side, seeing the ins and outs of a business.
“Just walk to the end and turn right. You’ll see some of the other girls there.”
“Right.”
I kept moving, smelling the kitchen and beer, but then at some moment those smells dissipated, and the air changed. It was smoother somehow, and the smells were sweet and delicate. It wasn’t perfume, but rather the smell of new furniture and fabrics. In the same way, the bar’s music subsided, and gave way to something more rhythmic.
A moment later the hallway took a turn, and I found my way into a spacious room that looked more like a musical set. There was a wide stage at the far wall, where a DJ was doing his thing behind a laptop. To the right of him was the bar, and it was nothing like the one I had just left. There was neon and a lot of glass, colorful bottles and glasses of every shape and form. The room was getting crowded, with a few couples dancing on the dance floor in the middle. And it was obviously a rich crowd, too. There were mostly guys around, dressed in shiny suits, wearing shinier watches, and what women were there, looked like models, wearing gaudy jewelry and loud dresses.
I was a fish out of water. They would probably laugh me out of the damn place. At my shoes, at my simple – comfortable – dress. I glanced around, looking for a place to sit down or stand away from everyone else. The bar was too crowded, but to my left there was a nice sitting area, blocked off from the rest of the room by a heavy curtain, and there I saw a group of other girls. Those must have been my people.
At the head of the group was a tall woman in a red pantsuit and with a tablet in her hand.
Ava.
I hurried to join them.
“…will find the papers in your inbox, so check your email when you get home tonight, yes? You will be receiving twenty percent of the final bid, free of tax.”
I interrupted her: “I’m sorry, what’s the final bid?”
Everyone looked at her. Ava said, “Welcome, Miss Mercer. The final bid is the amount of money your dates pay at the auction for the chance to spend the evening with you.”
“The auction?” He heart began racing. What the hell was this place?
“Why, of course. Don’t worry, dear, this is perfectly legal. Just a fun little game rich boys like to play.”
“Right…” I had a strong urge to leave right then. To just storm out of the club and get a breath of fresh air and forget about all this.
Think of Declan. Think of Declan.
I didn’t move, and listened to Ava’s instructions. There was still forty minutes until the auction.
When Ava left, the rest of the girls spread around the club in twos and threes, and I was left alone at a table, along with another girl, nervously watching the place.
After a few minutes of awkward silence, the girl said, “First time here?”
“Yeah.”
“It has to be my fifteenth.”
“Really? How does this work exactly?” I asked, turning my chair to face the girl.
“One of these guys will bid on you, and whoever pays the most, promises you the world and tries to get into your pants.”
I frowned.
“It’s not as bad as it sounds. I paid off my student loans in three months, and had some money left over for a car! I’m Isabell, by the way.”
I shook the girl’s hand. She was pretty. About the same age as me, but a little leaner and with black hair cut short. I could see why other girls wouldn’t want to hang out with her. Most of them were a good ten years younger, fresh out of high school and already looking for adventure – sex and parties. Isabell seemed like she was there for work, which wasn’t a bad thing.
I had respect for a woman who made her way in the world, hell that’s why I was here.
Doing this for me.
For Declan.
“Do you want to go to the bar?” she asked me. “I need to get a drink before this whole thing goes down. Helps with the nerves, you know?”
“Sounds good.” A little liquid courage was just what I needed.