“No. I moved back home about six months ago to take care of my mother before she died. I had to leave everyone behind in California. I haven’t had time yet to make new friends here. I’m not a really social person, anyway. I much prefer to do my job and then relax alone at home.”
That was somewhat true. Sure, she’d enjoyed going to happy hour with her friends back in California, but her idea of a perfect weekend was sitting in front of a fireplace in the winter with a glass of inexpensive wine in one hand and a good book in the other. She didn’t need an exciting social life. She’d been teased about that, though good-naturedly, of course. That was California, after all, where the game of life was all about being seen.
“Would you like to hear about the position, Jewell?”
The intensity in Ms. Beaumont’s eyes made Jewell feel suddenly tempted to turn around and bolt from the room. She hadn’t the foggiest idea what this woman would say next and she wasn’t at all sure she wanted to know.
“Yes, of course. I’m willing to learn any job, and I guarantee I’ll do it well.” Those were the words that came out.
“Very good. We are an exclusive escort service. The clients we have like their escorts to be, let’s say, accommodating.”
When she didn’t elaborate, Jewell searched her mind to think of anything she knew about escort services. Weren’t they places people could go to if they needed a date for the night who wouldn’t humiliate them? Such as a cousin’s wedding, when they didn’t want to go alone, or a high school reunion, where they needed someone to be pawing all over them. That couldn’t be so bad. They weren’t prostitution places, right? She’d just have to go out on some dates. She could do that.
“I have to admit that I wasn’t expecting that, but I think it would be fun to be a part of an escort service, to meet new people each week and to entertain clients.” Jewell actually thought it would be far less than fun, but Ms. Beaumont didn’t need to hear that.
“I am glad you feel that way, because we guarantee our clients one hundred percent satisfaction. Whatever they want, they get.”
“Whatever they want?” Whoa! Jewell could have no doubt now what the woman was saying. This wasn’t a typical escort service, at least as she understood them. Maybe other people associated escort services with sex and maybe she was naïve, but right now she was scared. This was a place that catered to the needs of men who would want things from Jewell she’d never before given any man.
Could she do that? Could she sell her body? She wanted to recoil in horror, to tell this…madam what she thought of her disgusting business, but the image of her brother’s tear-soaked cheeks popped into her mind, the pain so vivid in his eyes. Was her “virtue” more important than his happiness?
“I need a job, Ms. Beaumont, a job that pays well. I think we would be a good fit for each other.”
The gleam that popped into the woman’s eyes told Jewell that she’d said the right thing. “Then you are at the right place, Jewell. Our escorts live here, and they go through a training period, paid of course, while they get ready to be the best they can at their job. Do you currently have anything you need to tie up before moving in?”
Wow! This was moving fast. Jewell wanted to run, wanted to hide, but it sounded as if she’d gotten the job, and she refused to run away from it.
“No. I can easily shift everything and move in,” she said, happy to know she could escape from the shelter and from the abandoned building she went to when she needed a break.
“Perfect. Then you will start today.”
With those curt words, Ms. Beaumont stood and walked from the room, leaving Jewell sitting alone, pondering what she should do. Was the interview over? Did she get up and walk out? She hadn’t left a phone number with Ms. Beaumont — she didn’t have a number to leave. So she waited right where she was.
After about ten minutes, when Jewell was wondering whether she could even get up and move around without endangering her new job, another woman entered the room. This one was older, with a kind smile on her face.
“Hello, Jewell; I’m Betty. Ms. Beaumont has informed me that you are joining our team. Our bosses are wonderful to work for and I think you’ll be happy with your decision. Please follow me.”
Betty left the room immediately, and Jewell scrambled to catch up to her. When they entered what looked like a spa, Jewell’s nerves had calmed somewhat. This really wouldn’t be so bad. And maybe she could even work there for the six weeks until she got her brother, saving everything, and then slip away before she had to do anything that she felt would compromise her integrity. It really depended how long their training took.
“The showers are over there. Please take your time.”
Betty handed her a thick, soft towel and then disappeared. Jewell stood there awkwardly for a moment, and then decided that a hot shower, one she didn’t have to rush through, sounded like a perfect start to her new job. After scrubbing herself, she was then led to a tub, where attendants practically scratched her skin off.
She’d never been bathed by another person — okay, certainly not since her toddler years. Thoroughly humiliated, she had to fight back tears. This is for Justin, she kept reminding herself. Things got easier after that.
She was whisked into a room where what they called beauty treatments began. Some were painful, some pleasant, but all of them changed her in one way or another. By the time the various cosmetologists were finished, her hair was softer than it had ever been, at least on her head, because virtually all the other hair on her body had been painfully removed. Her skin was silky, her face glowing — and her stomach still empty.
The people who ran the agency apparently liked the women who worked for them to be nearly anorexic. That was fine, Jewell supposed — she was used to going without meals. Each time she thought she couldn’t possibly endure another minute, she would just close her eyes and think of her brother. She could do anything for him, and if the brutal beauty routine was any indication of what she’d continue to go through, she probably was going to be doing anything, and everything.
Chapter Five
“Welcome, Mr. Knight. I hope you found us without too much trouble.”
Blake looked at the tastefully decorated “showroom” and felt nothing but scorn. Why was he here?
The room was done up in varying shades of beige and red, and it sported expensive crystal chandeliers and lamps, though the lighting was low. Elegantly dressed women — no fishnet stockings and thongs were on display here! — sat and chatted with potential clients, their voices low, the conversations muted.