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While Marcy was taking a taxi to Jenna's apartment, Jenna was in the doctor's office “examining” a new customer. It took all her concentration to play the part of a sexy doctor giving a man a physical. She managed to shove all her worries to the back of her mind and give the client everything he'd paid for. Although much of it was on autopilot, she must have done a good job since the man departed with a big smile and left her a hundred-dollar tip.
Later she entertained another customer in the second motel room, one they'd set up recently since the first one was occupied all the time, with a waiting list of men with fantasies that played there. By the time she grabbed a cab across town it was almost twelve-thirty. She'd checked the kitchen table, almost afraid to find her key still there, but it was gone. There was hope.
Jenna opened the door to her apartment and found her sister sitting in the living room deep in thought. “I'm glad you stayed,” she said softly, draping her coat over a chair. She looked around for Marcy's but she quickly realized that her sister would have hung it in the closet.
“I never did find out what the hell happened last night.” Marcy's voice was tight, her hands now fisted in her lap.
Marcy had used the word
hell. She must be in some state,
Jenna thought. Well, at least she hadn't rushed back to Seneca Falls. Maybe there was a chance to patch some of this up. It might never be the same as it had been, but maybe it wasn't totally ruined. She sat at the opposite end of the long sofa and tucked her legs beneath her, as usual a mirror image of her sister's pose.
What had happened last evening? How could she answer Marcy's question? I was part of an orgy? I fucked several men in several different ways? I had my first experience with a woman and got off on it? “I had a very enjoyable evening.”
“Can it. I saw some of it, and felt some of it. You were raped.”
“Actually, no, I wasn't.”
“I couldn't move. You couldn't move. I can't sort it all out but there was all sorts of strange stuff going on. I know that much.”
“Nothing happened last evening that I didn't want, didn't consent to and participate in willingly. There was nothing that I didn't totally enjoy.”
“Enjoy? I saw you, no, felt you, tied down, grabbed here,” she said, touching her upper thighs, “and more. I saw several men including that Rock guy.”
“That's true.”
“And a woman.”
“Also true.”
“Jenna, what's become of you?”
She sighed. Marcy would never understand, but she had to try. “I've learned to enjoy lots of off-center stuff with clients and with friends.”
“I don't get it.”
Of course you don't,
Jenna thought. She gathered her thoughts. “I don't know what to say, Sis. On the outside, I'm different in lots of ways from the woman who left home to come to Manhattan, but inside I'm still the same person. I think some of this was in there all along, but I didn't know it. The only thing I knew was that I couldn't marry Glen and settle down to a white-picket-fence life. It was only when I moved here and met people, did different things in bed, that I discovered what I had been looking for.”
“So you became a hooker.”
“If you want to put it that way.”
“What other way is there? You were looking for kinky sex when you said no to Glen. It wasn't just about being tied down.”
“It was so many things that I couldn't sort them all out but, yes, sex was a big part of it.”
“You didn't tell me that part.”
“I know. I didn't know whether you'd understand.”
Jenna watched the color rise in her sister's cheeks. “Right. Sweet, uptight, sexually repressed Marcy wouldn't have a clue about wanting something more in bed.”
Jenna hadn't meant it like that but it was closer to the truth than she wanted to admit. “I'm sorry. It wasn't like that.”
“We're being honest, or at least I think we are. Tell it straight. You didn't think I'd understand because I've never had a sex life.”
She was right, of course. Jenna wondered how far to take this, then said, “Okay. Here's honesty. You're plain vanilla or at least that's the way you've always seemed to me. I wanted rocky road, heavenly hash, something more.”
“But you slept with Glen when you came home. Twice, if I've been counting right.”
“I did, and it's been a lot better since I got away. I accept that a lot of what went wrong with Glen was my fault. I didn't know how to ask for what I wanted and there was no way he could have guessed. Doing what I've been doing has taught me a great deal.”
“I'll bet,” Marcy said, her voice snide.
Jenna grinned. “Don't knock it, Sis. I've had some great sex.”
“I'll bet.” After a minute, Marcy added, “Tell me about Club Fantasy.”
Encouraged by Marcy's softened tone of voice, Jenna spent a long time telling her sister about the way it had all started, the movies, the motel room, and then the venturing out into other types of fantasy fulfillment. “We've had a lot of help from a wonderful woman named Erika who's been doing this sort of thing for a long time.”
“Another hooker?” she said sharply. There was a pause, then she continued, “Sorry, maybe I should stop using that word. It sounds so terrible. Okay. What about this Erika person?”
“Thanks for being patient, Sis,” Jenna said. “You can't imagine how much I've wanted to share this with you.”
“God, Jenna, this is so difficult for me. I'm trying to be reasonable and listen.”
Jenna explained Erika's history and told her sister a bit about Courtesans, Inc. “She's such a wonderful woman. I'd love to have you meet her.”
Marcy shook her head. “I don't think I'm ready for that right now. Jen, I'm trying to deal with all this, mostly because I love you and I know you've got the same basic morality I have, but you can imagine how difficult it is for me. It goes against everything I've ever believed.”
Jenna reached across the sofa and hugged her sister. “How can I expect you to understand when it took me weeks to come to terms with all of this? It makes sense to me now, however.”
“It doesn't to me, but I can live with that. From what you've said this is a thriving business and you're having fun with it. I guess that means that you're not coming back home.”
“I don't know whether Club Fantasy is a life or just a temporary pleasure. For right now, it's such fun and there's so much money involved that I'm going to stay here.”
Marcy leaned forward and her voice dropped. “How much money?”
“I've added more than ten thousand dollars to my bank account in the past few months.”
Marcy's eyes widened. “You're kidding. Isn't some of that from your work?”
“Sis, I haven't taken a translation assignment for about six weeks. It's all from Club Fantasy, and the business is growing all the time.” She spent several minutes filling Marcy in on the details.
Marcy seemed to be digesting all the information. Finally, she asked, “Don't you worry that you're cheating yourself somehow?”
“Cheating myself?”
“How are you going to be able to get married, have kids, like that, after what you're doing here?”
“I've thought about that and I don't know the answer. I want a family, husband, kids, but for right now I'm not going to worry about that. Erika's married and several of the ladies she works with are as well.”
“What about Glen?”
“That troubles me a lot and it's difficult for me to know what's right.”
The two women stayed up for another hour, then Marcy bedded down on the pull-out sofa. They had breakfast together, then took a cab to the garage where Marcy had parked the day before. The twins hugged and, although Jenna knew that Marcy still didn't totally understand, they were still friends when she left.
Chapter
16
M
arcy didn't mean to tell Glen about Club Fantasy. It just happened.
“Where were you last Wednesday and Thursday?” Glen asked her as they sat having a quiet dinner the following Sunday evening. Since neither of them had an active social life and since they had Jenna in common, they'd been having dinner together once or twice a month. “Joe Stewart told me you'd suddenly taken two days off. That's not like you.”
“I took a quick trip down to see Jenna,” Marcy said, unable to think of a lie quickly enough. She didn't want to get into this with Glen, afraid she'd say something she shouldn't.
“Oh?” he said. “That was really sudden. I hope nothing's wrong. She didn't mention anything when I spoke to her last Friday.”
“I thought there was a problem, but I was mistaken.” Marcy had been thinking about her visit and all the things she'd learned. She hadn't adjusted to the idea that her sister was a prostitute, but she'd decided to cut Jenna some slack and let things ride.
They'd spoken several times since her return to Seneca Falls and, at times, Marcy had wanted to preach, to tell Jenna all the reasons why what she was doing was wrong, but she found she had an increasingly difficult time finding those reasons. She also found herself a little intrigued. None of this, however, was Glen's problem.
“Did you have a nice visit?” Glen asked.
“Great, actually.” She decided to be as honest as she could. “I tried to call her several times and got her voice mail. As it turned out, she'd just misplaced her cell phone so I got all worked up for nothing.”
“How is she?”
“She's fine, enjoying New York City in the winter. I have to say that I like it here better. The snow in Manhattan is seldom white. Central Park is pretty, though. I took a cab through the park to her apartment. It was really lovely. I guess it's the only part of the city where the dirt doesn't show.”
“Her apartment? I'm confused. I thought she lived with Chloe in a brownstone.”
Damn,
Marcy thought,
I knew I'd louse this up.
“Oh, didn't I tell you?” she said brightly. “She's got an apartment on the West Side. It's really cute. So, how was your week? I gather there's a merger in the works.”
“Something's not right here,” Glen said, not letting her change the subject, “and frankly, Marcy, you're a lousy liar. What's going on? Is she in some kind of trouble? Is that why you raced down there?”
“She's not in any trouble, Glen. Let it go, will you? Please!”
“She's not just a casual acquaintance and I don't just ask about her because she's your sister. What's going on?”
Marcy heaved a deep sigh. Glen was right, she was a lousy liar. Slowly, with the help of several pointed questions from Glen, she told him the whole story. “She's a hooker with a high-priced clientele,” Glen spat. “That doesn't make her any different from a streetwalker. What the hell is wrong with her?”
As Marcy told Glen about Club Fantasy, she realized that, although she didn't understand it, if it was what Jenna wanted, she would try not to judge. Her sister was a grown woman and Marcy wouldn't reject her, even if she didn't like what she was doing. But for Glen, maybe this was just the reason Glen needed to move on with his life. “Let it go, Glen. Admit that she's not the woman for you and get on with the rest of your life.”
Glen remained silent and the meal ended awkwardly. When she told her sister about her mess-up the following day, Jenna was understanding and resigned to the loss of her relationship with Glen. “It's probably for the best,” she said, echoing Marcy's words. “It's probably for the best.” As she hung up, Marcy thought she heard her sister cry.
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For nearly a week Glen couldn't deal with what he'd learned about Jenna so he tried not to think about it. He managed to suppress it during the day, but at night, as he lay in bed, he pictured Jenna, the woman he'd asked to marry him, in lewd poses with men of all sizes, shapes, and colors. Mixed with those images were ones of himself and Jenna making love, as recently as Christmas. He'd been so receptive and the sex had been good. He remembered that he'd noticed that she was more willing to show him what she wanted.
How could she have changed so much in such a short time? Or had she changed? Was this Jenna inside the one he'd proposed to all the time? For another week he alternated between puzzlement and just plain fury. How could she do this to him? How could she do it to herself? He hated her, and hated himself for still loving her. It made no sense and he couldn't sort it out, as much as he tried.
It gnawed at him and he kept revisiting his conversation with Marcy like a tongue touching a sore tooth. Club Fantasy. Men. Lots of men. Some guy named Rock, of all things, living in the brownstone in which Jenna and her friend Chloe were supposed to be. He hadn't gone to visit because he was giving her space. She sure took her space, all right. And look what she did with it.
It was illegal and dangerous. What was to prevent some pervert from doing all kinds of things to her? Marcy had alluded to all kinds of kinky stuff. He knew what that meant. S&M, bondage, orgies. Orgies. Jenna and who knew how many men. His Jenna.
Not his. Not anymore. He wanted to choke some sense into her, to attempt to make her understand what she was doing. She couldn't continue this way without getting hurt, injured, battered. He knew what went on. He read the papers and watched TV.
By the third week he was starting to formulate a plan. He had to show her how dangerous this was. Things would never be the same. There was no future for them, but he had to admit, if only to himself, that he still cared deeply about her and wanted her safe. Not with him, of course, but safe.
Slowly, he figured out what he had to do. He took a few days off from work and, telling no one where he was going, drove down to Manhattan the following, bitterly cold Monday morning. He arrived in the late afternoon, parked, and found the brownstone in a lovely side street with trees planted every few feet. He'd been in the city on business several times but he'd never really explored its more residential neighborhoods. It was an exciting city and, even with all its problems, it managed to have charming areas like this one. He could certainly understand why Jenna enjoyed her stay here. Not what she was doing, of course, but the city itself.
He climbed the two steps to the front door and knocked. The huge, totally bald, sightly menacing man who answered the door must be the man Marcy spoke of, the one called Rock. “Hello,” Glen said. “I'm looking for Jenna and something called Club Fantasy.” He thought that knowing about the Club might help him get to talk to Jenna if she wasn't there at the moment.
“I'm sorry, I've no idea what you're talking about.”
Glen didn't expect such a quick rejection. “Jenna. Jenna Bryant. She doesn't live here anymore but I really need to talk to her.”
The man shook his head slowly. “I'm really sorry but I'm afraid you have the wrong house.”
Glen knew he had the right house. He'd checked the address several times. And this was the guy Marcy had spoken of. What now? Maybe he needed a bit more honesty. “You're Rock, aren't you?”
“That's my name but there's no one here called Jenna. I'm really sorry.”
As he started to close the door, Glen said, “Please. I'm really an old friend of hers from back home. Can't you help me?”
The wary look on the man's face relaxed slightly. “Back home where?”
“Seneca Falls. Upstate.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Tell me more.”
“My name's Glen Howell and Jenna's sister's name is Marcy.”
Slowly, the giant opened the door. “There's no one here right now but me. Why don't you come inside and tell me why you're here?”
Glen entered the comfortable house and, while Rock put his coat away, he looked over the living room. It seemed no different from any other living room, sofas, plants, a very comfortable lounge chair in front of a great-looking, big-screen TV. He sat on a side chair as Rock stretched out on the lounger, ankles crossed, looking like king of the realm. “Want to tell me about it?”
What could he say. “Why were you so suspicious?”
Rock's laugh was warm. “Let me count the ways.” He raised his first finger. “I knew you weren't a customer. No one arrives here unannounced and everyone is cleared six ways from Sunday before they even get the address.” He raised a second finger. “Jenna doesn't use her real name. She's Hillary Oakes to all the customers.” He extended a third. “We're closed on Mondays and Tuesdays and anyone who knows about Jenna and this place would know that. Shall I go on?”
“No.” He was amazed. She had taken lots of safety precautions. “Who are you and what do you have to do with all of this?”
“Me? I live here and I'm here whenever we have customers. Sort of a bouncer.” He flexed a muscle. “Who would mess with anyone when I'm around?”
“Have you ever had to bounce anyone?”
“No, I haven't, but I'm not the issue here. What are you doing here?”
“I'm her ex-boyfriend.”
“I know that. She talks about you a lot.”
Amazed, Glen said, “She does?”
“That's the only reason you got in the door. She's been really upset since her sister showed up unexpectedly a few weeks ago.”
Who the hell was this guy and what was he to Jenna? Maybe everything had been a lie despite their wonderful dinners, phone conversations, and sex. “You two talk about ... things?”
“Yes. We talk. And no, I'm not the new boyfriend. I'm a guy who happens to be a friend to both Jenna and Chloe. Until Jenna and her sister reached an understanding about what goes on here, she had only Chloe and me to talk to, so I'm pretty well informed.”
Curious now, Glen asked, “What did she tell you about me?”
“You want me to share secrets? I don't think so, but I will tell you that she cares about you a great deal. How do you feel about her?”
“I hate what she's doing here.” Was that the entire answer?
Rock smiled and nodded. “I don't blame you. It must seem bizarre to an outsider like yourself.”
Glen found himself warming to this strange man. “It passed bizarre a long while ago.”
Rock laughed. “I'll bet.”
“Are there any more guys like you hanging around?”
“No, but it's a pretty busy place.”
With a deep sigh, Glen said, “I thought she was in danger here. I didn't realize what a professional operation this was. She's got another name and everything.” He sighed again. “I thought it was just her and I believed I could talk her out of it and lure her back home.”
“I don't think she'd leave here right now.”
“I guess not.”
“I'm sorry this is so difficult, but it is what it is,” Rock said.
“I know. The trouble is that she's been with so many men. That bothers me as much as everything else.”
“True enough. Let me ask you this. If you met her today and all those men were in her past, would you love her, anyway?”
“I didn't say I love her.”
“You didn't have to, but answer my question.”
“I guess if it were in her past, then what business would it be of mine?”
“Good man,” Rock said, nodding. “That's the way I think it should be.”
“But they're her present.”
Rock smiled softly. “I know and that's the real problem isn't it.” It wasn't a question. “What was your sex life like?”
Glen gasped. “That's not any of your business.”
“Maybe it isn't but it might be something for you to think about very seriously.”
Their sex life had been fine. He'd always seen to it that Jenna was satisfied. Wasn't that enough? It had been a bit more creative since ... oh, shit. That's why it was better. She's learning from all those other guys. There's no hope.
Glen slumped in his chair. “Help me understand,” he whispered. He and Rock talked for a long time, then went out to a local Irish pub for a sandwich and several beers. Finally, after ten, they were back in the brownstone. “I hear what you're saying and part of me really gets it, but part of me can only think that this is Jenna. The woman I wanted to marry, to have my children.”
“That can still happen, you know.”
“I don't think so. I just couldn't. Not now.”
“Can I make a suggestion?”
“Sure. Anything.”
“Why don't you make an appointment with Hillary? Experience what she's like here for yourself.”