Knock. Knock knock knock. Nyssa bolted upright in her bed, all the hairs on her body springing up as adrenaline poured into her system. Who the hell was knocking on the door at three o’clock in the morning? Nyssa slowly reached into the drawer of her bedside table, pulling out a knife she kept there in case of emergencies. It could be an unhappy client, Nyssa thought as she carefully put her feet on the ground. That guy from the other night who didn’t want to pay… he could have tracked me down here and brought friends or a weapon to get back at me.
Her heart thundered in her chest like a horse-drawn chariot as she slowly approached her front door, gripping the knife so hard her knuckles hurt. There was another knock at the door, harder and more insistent this time. Nyssa blew out her breath and forced herself to dash the last few feet to the door, keeping her knife ready as she put her hand on the knob. “Yes?” she asked. “Who is it?” It was times like these that she really wished she had a peephole in her door. Dammit.
“Girl, it’s me, let me in!” Kimmie’s familiar voice called out from the other side of the door. “I’ve got news!”
Nyssa let her body sag against the door in relief, allowing the knife to hang limply in her hands as she collected herself. She unlocked and unlatched the door, opening it to let Kimmie inside. “Kimmie, you almost gave me a heart attack. What are you doing here so late, and why didn’t you just call?”
Kimmie grinned, shaking her head furiously. “You won’t believe it, Nyssa. You got the job!”
“The job?” Nyssa asked, her mind still too foggy from sleep to figure out what Kimmie was talking about right away. But after a few moments, it all clicked. Katrina. The audition. “I got it?” she whispered.
Kimmie nodded and wrapped her arms around her, forcing her into an oppressively tight hug. “I knew you could do it!”
“Thanks,” Nyssa said, forcing a smile for Kimmie’s benefit. “When do I start?”
“Right now!” Kimmie said, tugging on her wrist and pulling back toward the door. “Come on, we’ve got to get that money, girl!”
Nyssa resisted, planting her feet so Kimmie couldn’t force her out of her apartment. “Wait, what? I need time to prepare. I can’t just go now. I haven’t even showered.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Kimmie said, waving Nyssa’s concern away. “Some of the clients like girls with a little stench on them if you know what I mean. Come on! If you don’t show up as soon as possible, Katrina might change her mind about you. We were already late once. You don’t want it to be a pattern.”
For the final time, Nyssa had second thoughts. I could just stay here, where I belong, she thought to herself, feeling bile crawl up her throat at the thought. I don’t have to do this.
But Kimmie’s face was so bright, beaming with energy and pure belief that Nyssa could do it. That was what it came down to, ultimately. She couldn’t let her friend down, not when she was looking at her with so much pride and hope.
“Okay,” Nyssa said. “Just let me change into something less hideous than my ratty pajamas, and then we’ll…”
“No time!” Kimmie said. “They’ll give you something to wear at the brothel. Come on! We’ve got to go!”
Nyssa let herself be tugged along this time, barely remembering to grab her phone off the table near the door before leaving her apartment, running along with Kimmie toward the building where Katrina waited on them.
Kimmie led her to the same entrance as she did a few days earlier and dragged her quickly down the hallways until they got to Katrina’s parlor. “We’re here, we’re here, we’re on time, right?” Kimmie panted out as they ran into the room, where several girls dressed in gorgeous black gowns were already lined up.
“You are barely on time, yes,” Katrina said, getting up from her throne-like chair in the center of the room. “Go stand with the other girls.”
Nyssa moved along with Kimmie, but she froze when Katrina spoke again, this time addressing her specifically. “Not you. You come here.”
Nyssa looked at Kimmie, who nodded at her encouragingly and gestured for her to follow Katrina to the other side of the room. She cleared her throat and resisted the urge to bow her head as she crossed the room to meet with Katrina. I have to be strong, she reminded herself, rolling her shoulders back and straightening her spine. I can’t show any weakness. Not here. Not to her.
“What’s your name?” Katrina asked, crossing her arms tightly as she waited for Nyssa to respond.
“Nyssa.”
“Nyssa,” Katrina repeated, licking her lips and the bottom row of her perfectly white teeth. “That’s a pretty name. Where did you get it from?”
“My mom,” Nyssa said honestly, aware that Katrina probably thought she was lying. Lots of girls had “stage names” when they did sex work, but not Nyssa. She was pretty sure Kimmie’s legal name was something different, but Nyssa could never get used to being called by the wrong name.
“Hmm,” Katrina said, sucking on her teeth for a second. “Interesting. Well, welcome to the family, Nyssa. We treat all of our sisters with respect here, but first you have to earn it. Since you’re the newest addition to the staff here, you’ll have to do several chores on top of the work with the clients who come in here. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Nyssa said without hesitation. Katrina might have been incredibly intimidating, but the concept of hard work wasn’t, at least not to Nyssa.
“First, you’re going to hand-wash the negligees that the girls used last week. Come with me this way. I’ll show you around,” Katrina said, putting a perfectly manicured hand on Nyssa’s back and lightly pushing until she followed her out of the parlor.
Katrina led Nyssa across the hall and through a couple of luxuriously furnished rooms before coming to a stop in a messy room full of dirty clothing. “Here, get to work on these while I fill you in on the details of the business. Hurry up.”
Nyssa did as she was told, filling up a tub full of soapy water and beginning to soak each of the lingerie pieces one by one, scrubbing them gently with a washcloth. Katrina gave a long speech, and honestly it was so boring that Nyssa zoned out for several minutes until Katrina mentioned a word that got her attention.
“…It is true that many of the clients use drugs. However, none of the girls here are to partake in any drug use. Is that clear?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Nyssa said.
“Another thing,” Katrina said, her tone becoming strangely hard and cold. “Never call me ma’am again. It makes me feel old.”
“All right,” Nyssa said, filing that information away for later. It was strange, finding an insecurity in a woman who seemed so impervious to criticism. Katrina was absolutely gorgeous, not to mention rich and powerful. It was weird thinking that anything could make her feel less than perfect.
Katrina stared at her silently for a long moment, making Nyssa’s skin heat up as she forced herself to continue the washing work, keeping her eyes glued on the clothes in her hands. Finally, Katrina cleared her throat and spoke again. “Do you know anything about drugs, Nyssa?”
Nyssa shook her head reflexively, keeping her gaze down on the tub, ignoring the growing ache that was forming in her knees as a result of staying in the same position for too long.
“I only ask because we have demand for responsible drug runners, as well,” Katrina said, reaching into her pocket for a cigarette and lighting up. She blew out the smoke in delicate, perfectly formed rings before speaking again. “You could make a little more money if you’re interested…”
“No,” Nyssa said as firmly as possible. A wave of heat crawled up her back, probably turning the base of her neck red with embarrassment. She didn’t want to be rude to her spanking-new boss, exactly, but there was no way in hell she was getting involved in drugs. Not again. She’d spent too much time involved in the muck of the city’s underground, slinging cocaine and heroin to addicts who couldn’t stop hurting themselves. It was a sick, twisted lifestyle, and Nyssa wanted nothing to do with it.
“That’s unfortunate, for you, at least,” Katrina said, sucking on her cigarette some more. “Anyway, finish up in here, and then come back to the parlor. I’ll assign you your first client later today. That’s all.” With that, she turned and walked out of the room, leaving Nyssa alone with the suds and the dirty lingerie.
Nyssa let out another sigh of relief as soon as she was sure that Katrina was totally gone. She had been a little afraid that her boss would pressure her into drug-related work, but luckily for now, at least, she was safe. I’m safe here, she said to herself as she worked faster on the clothes, scrubbing out dried stains. I’m safe.
But still, in the back of her mind, a little voice resisted: If I’m safe, why am I still so afraid?