That was the hope she held onto. That was the reason she finally climbed into the back of the car — an experience eerily like the first time she’d left the agency, when she’d been taken to Blake. She couldn’t help but think of the man as the car revved up and headed away from Relinquish Control.
Her biggest hope — and it couldn’t be very big — was to find that the man who bid on her was like Blake. That was nothing she would have thought to hope for when she’d first been with him. But though his demands had pushed her, and though he’d made her do things far from her comfort zone, he’d also made her go up in flames, made her desperate for more. She very much doubted she’d be so lucky with her new master, or whatever the hell she was supposed to call him. Those feelings, and men who inspired them, were surely rare.
Jewell leaned back in the plush leather seat and struggled to clear her head. This was all beyond her control, so what good would it do to worry herself any more than she already had? Whatever happened would happen, and she wasn’t going to let herself lament a fate when she didn’t know yet what it would be.
When the car stopped and her door was opened, Jewell looked up at the massive suit-covered chest of the man waiting for her step from the car. Her nerves were in such a state that her stomach wanted to heave, but there was nothing in her stomach anyway — she’d been unable to eat — so what good would it do her?
She climbed out and then stood there on shaky legs as the driver shut the door. What on earth was she supposed to do next? She half suspected that the man was enjoying the tension of the moment and had decided to draw it out to torment her.
“Here’s your key. Your apartment is on the fifth floor, unit 512. Have a nice evening.” With that, he walked around to the front of the car, got back inside and drove away.
Jewell wasn’t sure how long she stood on the street watching the taillights disappear, but when her feet began screaming — these nosebleed heels were killing her — and the evening chill started seeping through her thin jacket, she turned and looked at the front of the apartment building.
A doorman stood silently next to an elaborate double door, his attention on her as he waited to see what she was going to do. Was this a joke? How did the man who’d purchased her know that she wouldn’t run?
That was a stupid question. The bidder knew she wouldn’t run, because if she did, she wouldn’t be paid. And he’d get a full refund anyway, so he could buy a new woman to slake his lust. Of course she was going to go inside; of course she was going to see what fate had in store for her.
With her head held as high as she could hold it, she approached the intimidating building. “Good evening, Ms. Weston,” the attendant said as he held the door open.
That stopped her, and she stared at him in surprise. “How do you know who I am?” As soon as the words came out, she once again felt unutterably foolish.
“Your driver informed me he would be bringing you by at this time,” the man replied in a professionally polite tone.
“Oh… That makes sense…” Jewell paused for a moment. “What’s your name?” The longer she delayed, the longer she could pretend she wasn’t a whore on the way to the sacrificial altar.
“My name is Flynn,” he said with what seemed to be a genuine smile.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Flynn. You can call me Jewell.” If she were going to be here for a while, she would probably grow to like the fellow.
“It’s nice to meet you, too,” he said, still holding open the door.
When she still hesitated, he added, “Can I help you with anything else?”
“I…um…haven’t been here before,” she admitted. Though she knew where she was supposed to go — unit 512 — she wasn’t sure how to get to the apartment from where she was now. She was embarrassed to admit that to him, because now he was sure to know exactly what she was and why she was there — to be someone’s call girl.
“That’s no problem, Ms. Weston. The key you have in your hand will give you access to the elevator over there to your right. Once you’re inside, insert the key in the slot and push your floor number,” he told her, his expression unchanging.
“Thank you, Flynn,” she said, and she finally walked inside, her eyes widening at the building’s luxurious lobby.
A security desk stood tall against the back wall; a man behind it was looking at monitors. Real live plants flanked a sitting area where comfortable tan leather chairs, currently empty, sat in a circle. The gray marble floors were freshly polished and shining, and the tall windows would bathe the room in light while the sun reigned in the sky.
Once she’d made it to the elevator, Jewell pushed the Up key, then had to wait only a few seconds before the doors opened and she was inside. Finding the slot for her key was easy. The doors shut and she was riding smoothly up to the fifth floor.
She arrived before she was ready and almost didn’t step off before the doors closed her back inside the metal box. Her knees shaking even more than before, Jewell crept down the wide carpeted hallway until she found the door to her apartment. She had no idea how long she’d been standing there before realizing that the key in her hand was nearly cutting her skin open because she was gripping it so tightly.
“It’s now or never. No matter how long you stand here, you’ll eventually have to see what’s on the other side of that door,” Jewell told herself just beneath her breath.
When she slipped the key into the lock, the door slid open easily, and she walked inside. The entryway was large and well lit, and as the door shut behind her, she stopped and listened for any sounds from within.
“Hello?” she called out, and then waited. No answer.
Could it be possible that no one was there with her? Why would someone spend two hundred and fifty thousand dollars and then not collect what was owed to him? It made no sense.
Her heart thundering, she slowly made her way deeper into the apartment, her stiletto heels clicking on the marble beneath her feet. The entry opened up into a large living room, completely furnished but lacking any personal touches.
Beiges and soft greens seemed to be the theme of the apartment. If she could decorate any way she wanted, it wouldn’t be what she chose, but she’d also never be able to afford a place this luxurious, and she wouldn’t complain about staying there. Well, she wouldn’t complain until she had to find out what the price — the barter price — was for her room and board.