The Arrangement Anthology (21 page)

I can’t look at her. Inside my head, I know that’s all I am. I’m a hooker, but sometimes it seems like more. My jaw locks as she speaks. When I try to talk, I work it to loosen the tense muscles. “You’re right. I know you’re right…”

“And?”

“And, nothing. I’m nothing to him. All this is new to me. I can’t separate my heart from my body.” I blink slowly, trying to get the burning sensation in my eyes to stop.

Mel sits down across from me, but still within reach. “Admitting that it’s just sex is the first part. Doing it over and over again is what steels your heart. When you do it that way, you don’t know who they are and you won’t care. It’s money, it’s a stress-reliever, it’s fun—but it’s never love. Avery, you got to remember that. They want no strings, no emotional attachment, and that’s what we give them.” Mel pauses for a second and then glances at me, like she shouldn’t be asking. “What do you think about taking another client? It would help you get over this one.”

“I already told Black that I would.” My chest feels like it’s going to cave in. The pressure’s too much.

“Good. Good.” Mel pats my knee. “That’s the first step out of this. When you do it with another guy, you’ll see that what you feel for Sean is just a trick your mind’s playing on you; that it was only fucking. If you told Black that you want another client, she’ll have you agree to the person and sign the contract tonight before going to Sean. Sign them. Don’t wait. It’ll keep things from getting more muddled. You can do this, Avery. It’s a good job.” Her eyes are so vibrant. She’s leaning toward me, trying to hold my gaze.

I nod slowly, like I’m stuck in a vat of gelatin. “I know it is, but I don’t know if I can shut him out. How do I do that?” I ask, glancing up at her. I feel so lost, so alone. I bury my face in my hands and breathe.

“It’s a job, Avery. Keep things that way. Let him lead and don’t kiss him, don’t give the chance for anything else. The guy has got to have some fetish shit going on. Drag it out of him and do it. That’ll shatter your prince charming version of him real fast.” She pats my knee again, and then grabs my hands and pulls me up. “You need some fun.” I start to protest, but she waves me off. “No, I know you gotta get ready, but you’ll like this fun. Come on.”

Mel drags me down the hallway and stops in front of my door. She grins at me with mischief her eyes. Mel presses her fingers to her lips, telling me to be quiet. Then she turns the knob and kicks open the door. The door makes a loud thud. Naked guy is standing at the counter. He jumps a mile. I can’t believe he’s still here. I look around for Amber. The light in the bathroom is on and the shower is running.

Mel walks in, sashaying her hips and making a beeline for naked dude. I follow her in and watch, leaving the door open behind me.

“Hey, ladies,” he grins at us, “Is it time for a threesome? I got my—” The smile falls off his face. Concern flashes in his eyes when he sees Mel coming for him.

“I want you to take your skinny ass out of this room and never come back.” As she walks, Mel passes the turkey carcass and takes the carving knife. Mel flips it in her hand like she’s a ninja. My mouth falls open. So does naked guy’s.

He lifts his palms, “Ladies, please. I can do you both separately. That’s not a problem.” His normal bravado is gone. His voice sounds like it’s stuck in his throat. Mel flips the knife. It turns handle over blade several times and then she catches it in her hand.

“Sure, pasty. Let’s do it. I’ve got a bit of a pain fetish though, so let’s just say that this won’t be pleasant—for you.” Mel smiles at him.

Naked guy doesn’t speak. He glances across the room. His clothes are at the foot of Amber’s bed. He smiles at Mel like he’s going to say yes, then turns on his heel and runs. Naked guy nearly knocks me over, muttering
crazy bitches
under his breath and tears down the hallway. Laughter follows in his wake. Mel grins at me, and stabs the knife into the cutting board.

A few seconds later, we see naked guy running across the quad, out the window. I laugh. Apparently his exhibitionism was only for a lucky few ladies, because he’s screaming like a lunatic as he runs for the bookstore. I wonder if he plans on buying new clothes or hiding in the stacks.

“You knife juggling nut,” I say to Mel, laughing.

“Nobody plays wussy games like darts, not where I’m from.” She laughs and looks out the window. “Did you see his face?”

I did. Smiling, I joke, “I think Amber lost her fuck-buddy.”

As if summonsed, Amber appears in the bathroom doorway. Her hair is wrapped in a towel and she’s wearing a ratty old robe. She rolls her eyes when she sees us. “Get out of here, bitch,” she says to Mel, which was a mistake. No one says that to Mel.

Mel walks over to her and growls in her face, “What’d you call me, you little piece of—”

I tug Amber’s arm. She doesn’t move. I hiss in her ear, “That was like the worst thing you could have called Mel. All those rumors about her growing up in the hood are true and you just pissed her off. You might want to run before she rips your face off.”

Amber comes to life. She frantically mutters things that make no sense and finally says, “I have to go.” She races out the door in her robe and doesn’t come back.

I hug Mel and say, “I owe you one. Thank you.”

She nods. “What are friends for if they can’t chase off hoes and guys with little winkies?” We both laugh. Mel turns to leave and says, “Get dressed in peace. I’ll check in with you in the morning. We can have pancakes. I’m running a syrup deficit.”

I watch her walk away. Confidence lines her shoulders, even though her life has sucked. It’s made her stronger and she’s better for it. I’m done moping. I’m not letting my past consume me. I don’t care what it takes, I’ll survive because I want to—on my own terms. Fuck everything else. I deserve a happy life.

CHAPTER 9

After I’m all decked out for work, I feel strange. It’s like part of me wants to turn cold so I can endure this fate. The other part of me whispers in the back of my mind, telling me that things can still be warm and safe. I need to smack her over the head with a frying pan. That little voice in the back of my head is going to ruin me. She never stops hoping, even when there’s nothing left to hope for. I gag that fragment of my brain and lock her away with my pride. Tonight is about getting to tomorrow. It’s about surviving and that’s it. Nothing else matters.

My dress swishes against my bare thighs as I take the stairs two at a time. My Chucks are on my feet in case I have issues with my car. There are always issues with my car. If I really take more clients, like Mel encouraged me to do, I can replace the misfit car with something that actually runs. I’d like that. But maybe not. This car is one of the only connections I have to my father. I worked on it with him, taping it up when it dumped oil all over the drive way. It’s always been a bad car, but maybe I’ll keep it anyway.

As I round the corner, I run into Amber. She’s sitting on the stairs with her face in her hands, all hunched over. I came this way to avoid people. As it is, I got three cat calls walking down the hallway and one was from a girl. I pause. There’s nothing I’d like more than to kick Amber and run down the stairs laughing, but I don’t.

I sigh dramatically and sit next to her, ignoring the dirty floor and my insanely expensive dress. “Hey, bitch,” I say teasingly. “Why are you hiding in the stairwell?”

Amber lifts her face. It’s covered in a sheen of tears and snot. Gross. I hand her a tissue. She takes it and looks at me like I’m insane. “Are you here to gloat?”

“No, I came this way so no one would see me spray start my car. It’s parked at the end of the building in that dark lot. As soon as I put the hood up, guys flock over like I’m too stupid to start my own car.”

She snorts, “Yeah, well…” I can tell she has something nasty on her tongue, but Amber swallows it and looks sheepish. “You have more guts than me. I’ve put my hood up, if you know what I mean, just to get a guy to talk to me.”

“Yeah, I realize that. You’re a prickly bitch when you want to be, but it’s like you’re bipolar or something because there’s a sassy smart mouth in there too. I’m guessing she lost that battle of the alter egos.”

Amber holds onto her knees and dabs her face with the tissue. “Yeah, something like that. It’s easier to get guys to like me when I act like that.”

“You know they don’t really know you, right? I mean, if that’s not really you. At this point, I’m not really sure who you are.”

“Me neither,” Amber says. Turning her head toward me, she looks at me and finally sees me. “What are you wearing?”

I shrug, suddenly feeling nervous. “Nothing. I have a date and can’t wear heels driving my car. It stalls a lot.”

“I heard you chased down some dick who stole that car out from under you.” There’s an expression on her face that I haven’t seen before—respect.

“I did. Several times.” Wonderful, my legacy is the crazy chick who chases a car that’s well past its expiration date.

“I wish I had guts like that. It’s like you don’t care what people think of you.” There’s a far off look in her eye, like she can’t fathom being that way.

I don’t know how to answer her. My life is a mess. I stand and say, “The room’s empty if you want it. I won’t be back tonight.” I start to walk down the stairs.

Amber calls after me. “Where’s your crazy friend?”

“Out,” I call back, and then I’m out of sight. I don’t understand that girl. Awh, hell, I don’t understand anything. I should really stop trying. I spend half my life trying to get a grip on things, but they just slip through my fingers in the end. I’m lucky I know my ass from my elbow. There’s no clear cut answer for anything anymore.

The air is crisp and cold. My breath makes little white clouds the moment I walk outside. I tug my ratty sweater over my head, carefully not to mess up my hair. I think about the way I felt earlier today, the way Sean called me on torturing myself with the weather. Maybe I should stop doing that. I don’t know. It’s one of the few comforts I have. How fucked up is that? Freezing myself is comforting. Damn, I need a shrink.

I spray the can of ether and slam the hood shut. Jumping in, I start the car. It warbles to life sounding like a spastic birdsong. I rev the engine and back out. The car doesn’t stall once on my way to Miss Black’s. Tonight might not suck so much after all.

Holy hell, was I wrong.

CHAPTER 10

I strip and weigh in, again. It seems redundant since I was here last night, but since Sean let me leave for the middle of the day, Miss Black does everything again. I’m wearing the same dress as yesterday. I didn’t have anything else.

Miss Black holds it out and shakes her head. “This is a major infraction.” She takes the dress and tosses it onto her chair. It sits behind her desk getting wrinkled. I’m standing in front of her in my freshly laundered lingerie from the other night. She’s not happy about that either.

“I haven’t been paid, yet. I took this job because I’m broke. This is all I have.”

“Yes, well. Be glad that we have some wardrobe for photo shoots.” She plucks something from her closet. “Put this on.” It’s a tiny black piece of fabric that looks way too small to be a dress.

I eye it and do what she says. As I’m wiggling into the dress, Black takes a box from the bottom drawer of her desk and unlocks it. She removes cash and the book I saw the first night that I was here with Mel. I barely have the dress on when she says, “Leave it. It’s supposed to sit high on the thigh, but this—” she tugs the neckline, straightening it. The dress is form fitting. I feel like a sausage shoved into a balloon. There’s no way I look hot, but I don’t comment. The black dress clings to me. There’s a keyhole opening that reveals my cleavage. The skirt hugs my hips tightly and barely covers my panties.

“There, that’s better. Now turn.” I do as she says. Miss Black grabs my shoulders and I stop. I feel her gaze on my back. She thrusts her hand forward. “Give them to me. You can’t wear that kind of panty with this dress. Panty lines are ungodly.”

I freeze. I am not going commando in this tiny skirt. “I don’t think—” I start to say, but she cuts me off.

Snapping her fingers, Miss Black huffs, “No one cares that you were prude, Avery. Hand over the panties so we can get on with things.” Reluctantly, I shimmy them down and fork them over. I tug at the hem of the dress, but Miss Black slaps my hands away. “Leave it. Oh, and before I forget, here’s an advance on your paycheck. Spend it wisely.” She hands me several large bills. I reach for the money and stuff it in my purse.

Miss Black continues, “You can pick up your clothes tomorrow when you check in. One more thing before you leave. Here is your next client.” She turns the big book toward me and points to a page. “I need you to update your preferences sheet and sign.”

I glance at the papers. The man is a little older, but still attractive. He’s not Sean. With every fiber of my being, I don’t want to do this, but I have no choice. I lift the pen and sign the contract. There. Done. I start to walk away.

Miss Black stops me, “Avery, your preference sheet?” She pushes it toward me and sits down behind her desk. I look back at the paper.

“I don’t care. Whatever he wants.”

Black looks at me like I don’t understand what I’ve said. “Avery, dear, I think you’ll—”

“I don’t care,” I say more poignantly this time. “Whatever he wants. It’s all the same to me.”

Black smiles like she won the lottery. “I’m pleased to hear it. You’ll fetch a higher price with that attitude.”

I smile back at her like I’m excited, but I’m not. I leave the building and duck into the limo waiting at the curb. I slip back into my seat and slouch. I pick at my nails for a moment and then stop so that I won’t ruin the polish.

How quickly things change. A few nights ago I was so nervous that I nearly puked. Now, I just want to go and get it over with. Staring out the window, I remind myself that this isn’t real. It doesn’t matter what Sean says or does, this isn’t love.

CHAPTER 11

I hate how short my dress is, but I walk with confidence the way Miss Black told me to and step into the elevator. When I emerge, the hotel restaurant is in front of me. I pass the hostess at the podium and wave at her, like I’m here every day. Lately, I’ve been here too much. She nods and I walk into the restaurant, past poshly decorated tables to find Sean seated in the same location in the back. He has that look on his face, and the same dark intensity lurks behind his eyes that was there the first night.