Chapter
7
T
he following afternoon Jenna sat in a trendy East-Side, Italian restaurant waiting for Erika. She'd debated about what to wear for a meeting with a madam, and she finally settled on a soft rose, short-sleeved blouse and a narrow, black skirt. She'd kept her makeup light and her hair loose around her shoulders. She sipped a glass of sauvignon blanc and tried to picture what a two-thousand-dollar-a-night madam looked like. When she spotted the woman who was making her way to her table she realized she had been completely off base.
Instead of seeming slightly seedy, this woman reeked of class. Tall, slender, shapely, with shoulder-length, medium brown hair lightly streaked with dark blond, a confident walk, and a charming smile. She wore a pair of silver-gray, linen slacks and a navy blue, silk blouse, navy blue, flat-heeled shoes, and carried a matching handbag. Her makeup was soft and natural, making guessing her age difficult. Jenna glanced down at the woman's hands, usually a giveaway to age, but saw only well-manicured mauve nails and a pair of rings, one a classic diamond solitaire, the other a plain gold band. The fact that the woman was married surprised Jenna. She stood and took the woman's extended hand. “I'm Erika Dunlop,” the woman said, her voice softly modulated, “and you must be Jenna. That's such a pretty name.”
“Thanks. I've no idea where my parents got it, or
Marcy
for my sister.”
“You've got a sister? How wonderful. Guaranteed playmates. I wasn't so lucky. I'm an only.”
“She's actually my twin and that's both good news and bad news. We always had someone to play with as kids, but it got a bit tiresome living as half of a unit as we became adults.”
The waiter arrived and Erika ordered a glass of the same wine that Jenna was drinking. “I'm starving,” she said as the waiter hustled off to get her drink. “Do you mind if we order?”
“Not a problem,” Jenna said, and the two women quickly decided to share an antipasto and an order of veal piccata with roasted potatoes instead of spaghetti.
During a leisurely meal the two women got to know each other. Jenna told Erika about her life in Seneca Falls, Marcy, Chloe, and even touched on Glen. She was amazed at how easy the other woman was to talk to. When she mentioned it, Erika said, “It's part of my job. I'm a courtesan, and a superior one has to be able to bring out the best in a man, and to do that you have to be able to understand his wishes, his deepest desires. How? By talking with him. I try to have dinner with a man before I go to bed with him for the first time. That way I can ferret out all the little things that matter to him. It's sort of like a job interview, although the man must never realize it.”
“I see your point. Before we get to the reason I wanted to meet you,” Jenna said, “tell me a little about you. How did you get into all this?”
“Frankly, I needed the money. My husband decamped to Switzerland with every cent my daughter and I had in the world and refused to send any alimony or child support. So one thing led to another and I began to entertain men for money. I joined a wonderful woman named Valerie and the rest, as they say, is history.”
“I know you run a business. Do you still entertain men yourself?”
“From time to time. I still have a few of my old clients, and a few of my employees are still around, but I don't take on anyone new on either side. I'm trying to phase the whole thing out but I'm like a fire horse. The bell rings and I can't resist throwing oil on the fire, if you'll pardon a very mixed metaphor.”
Jenna glanced down at the engagement and wedding rings Erika wore. “You're married. What about him?”
“My husband is very tolerant.” Her eyes got soft and gentle. “Stuart's a wonderful man. We've known each other forever and been married for almost three years. It's still as great as it always was.”
“Does he know about your business?” Jenna asked softly.
“He's the one responsible for it. It's a long story and I'll tell you all about it some time if you're really interested. However, you didn't meet me to hear my life history. I know about your movies and I've even seen one. An ex-client showed me the one he and his wife made after he got brave enough to share his desires with her. It was amazingly professionally done. You're very talented and, to use his word, simpatico. That's why I want to hear more about Club Fantasy.”
“You know that name? Chloe and I kid about it but I didn't think anyone else knew.”
“One of my regulars told me about it. Word has gotten around and people are excited about it. They think that if you do it as professionally as the films it will be wonderful. Personally, I think it's a great idea. My employees fulfill fantasies all the time, but not with props, costumes, and such. It could be quite a business.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course. You can ask me anything but I reserve the right not to answer if I want. Shoot.”
There were so many things that she wondered about that Jenna was at a loss where to begin. She finally asked, “Why are men willing to pay so much money when they could get a plain hooker for a lot less?”
“A serious question with a serious answer. In my case, they get someone cultured, classy, someone to decorate their arm at a social function with fringe benefits afterward. In your case, a man, or woman for that matter, would pay quite a bit for someone, or someones, who would do the things with him that he's been dreaming about and masturbating to for years.”
Erika sipped her wine, her long fingers gracefully cupping the glass. “There's more too. They want anonymity, the knowledge that, unless they say something, no word of what they've done will get back to family, friends, or job. We have famous clients too, men and woman who want to have great sex with cultured partners who will keep their mouths shut and not go running to the nearest tabloid. Think for a moment about poor Kobe Bryant. He had sex with a groupie, or whatever she was, and look at the mess he got into. It seems unimportant to ascertain exactly what occurred. If he'd employed a professional, none of that would have happened.”
“I guess I never thought about it that way. If you'll pardon me for asking, what do you charge?”
“We charge anywhere from a thousand to two thousand an evening. Most goes to the employee and the rest to Courtesans, Inc. In return for the money they give up, the men and women who work for me get health insurance, vacation pay, and, most important, the vetting of all the clients.”
“Vetting?”
“We make doubly and triply sure that the people we entertain are on the up and up. No cops, no weirdos.”
“You said you employ men. Do women use your services too?”
Erika looked startled. “Of course. Men aren't the only ones who get lonely and needy. Women have fantasies just like men do.”
“I never thought of that. I guess I'm not thinking about employing anyone else, just Chloe and me, having some fun with men who are willing to pay.”
“You don't have to go any further than that, of course, but if you want to expand your horizons, there's a lot more you can do with a business like the one you're considering. You have to be willing to go all the way, of course.”
“All the way?”
Erika leaned forward and placed her hand over Jenna's on the white tablecloth. “Let's be perfectly frank. If you want to consider entertaining men and playing with their deepest sexual fantasies, you will have to be willing to do some pretty unusual things.”
Obviously, Erika didn't realize that she hadn't actually had intercourse with a man for money yet. Wasn't she really just splitting hairs? “Like?”
“Like oral sex, anal sex, threesomes, spanking, bondage, all the more esoteric things that men dream about. They can do ordinary things with their wives or girlfriends. They will want to do the more unusual with you. They might want to rape you, or be raped, tie you down or be tied. They might want you to become an experienced older woman or a child, and you'll have to be all those things and more.”
Discouraged, Jenna said, “You're probably right.”
“Darling, been there, done that, and you can too if you want to. It's a very lucrative business but it has its downside. Days when all you want to do is stay in bed, alone, but you have to be up, on, understanding, without a care in the world. Days when you have your period or a belly ache or a head cold. You can't disappoint a client or you'll lose him and all the men he talks to.”
Jenna sat back, deep in thought. “I guess you're right. What Chloe and I have done so far has been a lark. You're talking about a business.”
“I certainly am. If you want to continue on a lark, as you put it, that's fine and it can work for you. But, if you want to make real money, hire employees, and in every way expand Club Fantasy to something larger, that means records, bookkeeping, taxes, health plans if you want that, schedules, and lots of psychology. It's not easy and it takes lots of time and energy.”
She had both, but did she want to spend them on a major business? “I gather.” She thought about Marcy and her lists. Could Jenna become as organized as her sister? It was obvious that, if she and Chloe wanted to make Club Fantasy a success on a bigger scale, Chloe couldn't take on the responsibility. She could.
Erika spent the next hour explaining the intricacies of the business to Jenna. She offered to demonstrate her computer programs for scheduling, tracking employee hours, and, most important, collecting and cataloging customer preferences. “I'll give you copies of anything you need. I'll even show you how to dial into my system from your home phone and check on whether a particular man has been my client and what his specific tastes are.”
“Why are you being so generous? We've just met, after all.”
“Many years ago someone I cared about very much was as generous to me in similar circumstances. Valerie's in Dallas now and I'm trying to close my business.”
“I can't believe you're quitting. You're a legend.” When she watched Erika's eyes widen, she realized what she'd said. “I didn't mean it like that.”
Erika's chuckle was warm and friendly. “I'm not at all insulted. I'm a happy woman now. Stuart's the love of my life and my daughter's pregnant with my first grandchild. I'm ready to be a plain old housewife, in the best sense of the word.”
Her voice filled with her surprise as Jenna said, “You're going to be a grandmother?”
“Yup. After lots of years of estrangement, Rena and her husband Alex are living in Westchester, and we're very close. I'm trying to resist buying every piece of baby stuff I see, but I've already got a few things put away.”
“That's wonderful. Congratulations.”
“It's good news for you too. I'm more than glad to help you get started but you have to want it. Consider what you expected when we met. I'm a madam, although I prefer courtesan, and with that label comes lots of negatives.”
“I've thought about that. I don't think I could even tell my sister what I'd be doing.”
“That's the problem. I had a hell of a time when my daughter found out about Courtesans, Inc.”
“It obviously all worked out.”
Erika shook her head sadly. “Not without lots of problems.”
“Why do men do it?”
“Pay? Because they want something they can't get at home. It's just that simple. Either they don't have anyone, or they think their partner isn't interested in what they want. Sadly, many times the husband or wife would be more than willing to play but the couple just can't communicate. However, that's not our responsibility.”
“Any more advice?”
“Lots.” Erika took a sip of her wine and signaled the waiter. She looked at Jenna. “Coffee?”
“Sure.”
Erika waggled two fingers and the waiter hustled off. “Okay. If you're going to entertain as a professional, there are lots of things I can tell you. From the business end, I suggest that you never entertain anyone you don't know either personally or through someone you trust. There are too many weirdos and cops out there.”
“Cops. That's scares the shit out of me.”
“It should, if only to make you wary. I've never had a problem. Courtesans, Inc., identifies itself as an entertainment corporation. We take clients to dinner and entertain them. If there's sex afterwards, that's not part of the package, and it's difficult for the cops to get their teeth into that unless they've been âentertained.'
“I pay my employees properly, with all taxes taken out, and I file all the forms with the IRS.
“From the personal side, be charming, interested, and get to know your client and all his desires. The more you know the happier he'll be. I say he, but, as I said, don't overlook female clients. Eventually you might want to employ men as entertainers for women.”