CHAPTER FOUR
While I waited to meet the staff in the kitchen, I saw on one of the security TVs, a young man yawn and stretched while he waited for Selene to open the front door. A young blonde joined me in the kitchen. She was on her phone, and didn't make eye contact with me as she stood near the door of the kitchen.
I watched on the TV as Selene opened the door, and the young man kissed her cheek and strolled past her. He soon entered kitchen, and headed straight to the coffee machine. There was a giant pot of coffee on already, and he opened the fridge and took a few slices of bread out, and dropped it into the toaster. He said, "Morning, Peyton. Coffe?" to the young bleached blonde woman leaning against the doorway.
“Got a cup, thanks, doll,” Peyton called back.
The young man replied, "I'm still sleepy. It was rough last night. I'm in need of coffee before I could even think about waking up."
Peyton looked frantic, as she said, “I suppose it’s time to make myself look decent, isn’t it?”
“It is,” the young man agreed, and he rummaged through the bag he’d dropped onto the table and found a comb, and combed and tidied his hair.
Peyton scooped up her bag and disappeared through the laundry room to where the staff showers. I stood, quiet in the kitchen, while the young man browsed his phone. Peyton returned before the young man had finished his toast, wearing a black evening dress with a plunging neckline instead of her earlier jeans and T-shirt. The young man watched her pile her curls up onto the top of her head, and reached over and said, “Let me.”
He pinned her mane up for her. She kissed his cheek and said, "Your breath smells so clean. Like Listerine."
The young man replied, "You know, house rules. Listerine for everyone, all the time."
Peyton said, “Thanks, Rod,” and sat down at the table opposite the young man and his half-drunk cup of coffee, and pulled a mirror out of her bag, and painted on her face.
The young man finished his coffee before Peyton had got her eyes done, and left to take a shower.
He returned, dressed in low-slung jeans, a mesh shirt, and barefoot. By the time he returned, the kitchen had filled up with all of the members of the staff, and he called out, “Hello, everyone,” over the cacophony of voices.
A tall, voluptuous brunette waved, and pushed her way through the people squeezed into the kitchen and said, “Hi, Rod, babe. Got anything?” to the young man.
He shook his head. “Sorry, babe, you know I haven’t. I don't use, and even if I did, I wouldn't bring it to work. You know the house rulles, no drugs on the premises. I doubt that stops most of the staff from working tanked to the gills on their chemical of choice. Just use it elsewhere.”
Selene appeared in the doorway and made her way through the crowd and stood right next to me. Putting her hand on my shoulder, she yelled out, “Shut up, all of you.” When the noise level had dropped a little, she shouted out, “This is Jude, it’s his first night here.”
The young ran his eyes over me. He looked as though he was sizing me up. Probably thinking to himself, too old to be direct competition for clients, though he was muscular and a hunk. Kind of rugged looking… lived in, that was it. He's probably guessing, I must be middle-aged, though there were plenty of middle-aged guys out there, still turning tricks, thanks to Viagra. I'm sure he even has used Viagra himself on a busy night.
“Jude’s working the front at Club Jade,” Selene called out, and a smile came across the young man's face, as he pushed his way past two women who were rearranging each other’s tits in their underwear.
“Hi Jude,” the young man said over the noise. “I’m Jarrod, but I go by Rod here.” He pushed his curls behind his ears and grinned at me. “I’m the only boy here at the moment, so you’d better be good at describing me in lots of different ways.”
Jarrod joked, elaborating, “I can do posh English, working-class English, French and Italian accents, so that’s what you’ve got to work with. Make sure you tell me which I’m supposed to do.”
I chuckled, and said in a throaty voice, going along with his joke, “OK,” I said. “Tonight, we have Rod, he’s educated, sophisticated, and a long way from his London home. Or, if you’d like a younger man, there’s Rod. He makes up for what he lacks in polish with enthusiasm. If you’re looking for a Mediterranean lover, we’ve got Michelangelo, full of Latin passion and promise, with dark sultry eyes. Is that right?”
Jarrod laughed too. “Spot on,” he said. “Though Shane is rostered on tonight too, and if any of the escort boys are here, they’ll work in-house too.”
“Escort boys?” I asked.
“Yeah. There’s two of us to work in-house on each side, and everyone else is on call-outs, though we come back here after each job with the money and hang around in the kitchen until there’s another call.”
I nodded. “I gather I’ll be driving sometimes.”
“That’s good. Casey complains about not being able to get enough nights off.”
The intercom in the kitchen beeped, and Autumn’s voice called out, “Chloe, call out for you.”
An elegant red-headed woman in a white miniskirt and bra leaned across the kitchen counter and picked up the phone and said, “Here, Autumn, but Casey’s not here yet… OK…” She scribbled on the notepad beside the phone and tore the paper off and said, “Sure. I’m ready when the cab gets here.”
A bell chimed somewhere in the building and Selene yelled, “For god’s sake, get dressed,” to the room full of women, and they all disappeared out of the door at the far side of the kitchen. There was a flurry of activity in the room as women pulled on boots or high heels and settled their boobs in push-up bras.
Jarrod grinned at me. “Least you won’t have to hassle me to get ready.”
A different doorbell chimed, and Jarrod elbowed me. “That’s for you. Off you go.”