Authors: Maddy Barone
Kim was the sour woman Rose had seen in the kitchen. She gave a curt nod, placed the bacon on the buffet, and stalked back to the kitchen. Rose smiled at everyone whether they smiled back or not. The two girls, Tanya and Zoe, looked her up and down with undisguised disdain. She wore jeans and another Lisa & Hannah blouse in blue, with the pearl earrings Sky had given her, so she knew her outfit was fine. This really was just like the first day at a new school, and those two were the cheerleaders with a superiority complex. With a shrug she applied herself to breakfast.
Ms. Mary lingered over her coffee and chatted as Rose ate her breakfast. “I’m so glad you’re here. Ever since I first met him, Sky has longed for you. Now, I hope you can talk him into leaving that dreadfully boring room of his and moving into my old room. It’s probably a little too fussy to suit him, but honestly, I’m quite sure holes in the ground have more personality and comfort than that room he lives in. That whole upstairs area was once the servants’ quarters. Did you notice there isn’t a regular staircase up to the top floor? Only that nasty, narrow stairway. I’ve always had my room up there, but last year those stairs just about did me in. Now I sleep in a tiny cubbyhole across from Sky’s office. It’s small, but oh, so much safer for me.”
Rose nodded, and tried to speak, but Ms. Mary didn’t give her a chance.
“I wonder, dear Rose, if you would mind taking over the cleaning duties upstairs? I don’t like to ask Katelyn to do it.” She lowered her voice. “That girl is a good worker. She’ll do anything we ask of her. Anything at all. But with her foot, the stairs are difficult for her. Would you mind?”
Rose hurried to swallow bacon. “I’d be happy to.”
Tanya and Zoe giggled. Rose was sure there was a note of derision in it. Ms. Mary directed a reproachful stare at them. “Some people think it’s beneath them to do an honest day’s work.”
The hint of steel in the previously babbling voice didn’t surprise Rose. Ms. Mary was an alpha, after all. The two girls—neither of them could be older than twenty-one—stood up and hurried out of the dining room. Joe and Garrett followed them with murmured excuses. The other woman, Tasha, picked up her coffee cup and came down the table to join them.
“Don’t mind them,” she said consolingly. “They’re just jealous. We’re all in love with Sky, but most of us know it always has been and always will be completely one-sided.”
Those two girls had a crush on Sky. Rose nodded. It made sense. He was devastatingly handsome, and he had rescued them from having to…She glanced sideways at Tasha. She was attractive, with short glossy brown hair and a plump figure, but not beautiful, and she was probably in her late twenties. The two younger girls were younger and prettier.
“Um, can I ask you something?”
Tasha raised her brows. “Sure.”
“This is probably rude, and I don’t want to be rude.” Rose felt heat in her cheeks. “But I don’t understand. They are hostesses? And you’re a businesswoman? What is the difference? There is a difference, right?”
Tasha had a husky laugh that oozed sex. “There is. Hostesses make our guests comfortable. They flirt and dance and let men buy them drinks.” She ran a lazy hand down her throat, her eyelids drooping sexily. “Businesswomen make the guests uncomfortable, and then we make it all better.”
Rose swallowed. “Oh. I see.”
Tasha laughed again, but this laugh had a light, amused note to it rather than the heavy sensuality of before. “No, you don’t. The hostesses entertain men downstairs and keep all their clothes on. Businesswomen do business upstairs, and depending on what an appointment wants, clothes are optional. If you get my drift now?”
“Uh-huh.” Rose resisted the urge to fan herself. “Thanks for explaining.”
“Sure. Let me take you on a tour of the house and I’ll explain who everyone is and what they do. Ms. Mary, is there anything I can do for you before we leave?”
“No, Tasha, I’m good. You girls run along and have fun.”
Tasha led her first to the kitchen where Kim Mizelle prepared two breakfast trays, while Katelyn washed dishes at the sink. Katelyn looked quickly over her shoulder, gave them a shy smile, and turned back to the sink.
“You’ve met Kim. She’s the day cook. Mrs. Nord is the evening cook. Katelyn is our maid of all work. She does dishes, she cleans, she washes clothes, and she does anything else that is needed. Rita, Susan, and Dena help in the kitchen in the afternoon and evenings. Let’s go downstairs, and I’ll introduce you to Patty and Debbie.”
Patty and Debbie were the full-time laundry maids. Rose greeted them, but she was distracted by yowling. “Oh, my gosh. Mitzi.”
Her poor little kitty was locked up inside a brick-walled closet. When Rose opened the door, she noticed a two-foot square metal door on the far side of the closet. Thick boards of raw lumber were nailed shut over it. The escape tunnel? Sky should fix that door right away.
Mitzi sprang up into her arms, distracting her. “Poor little girl. Poor sweet little kitty. Are you okay?”
Tasha took a step back. “That is one ugly ass cat.”
Rose giggled. “She is, isn’t she? But so sweet.”
Tasha jerked back the finger she extended when Mitzi hissed. “Sweet?”
Patty, a tiny woman with a leathery face and hands made rough by doing laundry by hand, coughed. “That damn cat has been crying all morning.”
“Poor thing. I’ll take her outside.”
Mitzi was more than happy to be put down in the grass by the back door. She sniffed around, gave Rose one reproachful glance, and slunk off to explore. Tasha watched too.
“Are you just going to let her run around?”
“She never goes far. When she wants to come in she’ll cry at the door.”
Tasha shrugged. “Okay. Let’s finish the tour. After that, would you like to go shopping?”
“I’d love to,” Rose said instantly. What she’d seen of Omaha last night had been interesting, but it wasn’t the same as walking around town.
“Great. Shopping is my favorite hobby.”
Rose strolled through the main level while Tasha gave a spiel like a tour guide. She was older than Rose, but she bounced and babbled like a teenager. The tour started at the back of the house, in Sky’s office. The office wasn’t large, but it looked very professional with its mahogany desk and leather chairs. A table that could seat six was behind the desk. Joe Sullivan was there with Ms. Mary, both leaning over a ledger. Rose wondered if they were working on the budget for October. Sky had mentioned that back at the den.
“Ms. Mary’s room is on the other side of the hall, here,” Tasha said. “Let’s go out the door here, and walk around to the front. You need to get the full impact of the foyer.”
The small door at the end of the hall led to the backyard. Rose stopped in delight at the sight of a garden with paved paths and ornamental benches. “How beautiful.”
“It’s expensive to keep up,” Tasha replied with a roll of her eyes. “But it gives Sky an excuse to employ a few more women, so what can you do? He doesn’t care that no one has ever heard of female gardeners.”
Rose blinked. Did Tasha think employing women and saving them from prostitution was bad? She’d already seen the dormitories last night, but she fumbled for something to say. “I heard there are bunkhouses in back. Where?”
“Oh. The servants sleep in dorms on the other side of the house. Most of them go home for the weekends, but during the week they sleep out there. Come on, I want you to see the foyer.”
Tasha hurried her around and up the broad stone steps to the front door. She put her hand on the doorknob and winked at Rose. “Ready?”
She flung open the door. “Isn’t this gorgeous?”
Rose admitted it was every bit as lavish as the mayor’s home. The foyer was spacious, and the twin reception rooms were two stories tall. An elegant staircase wound up in a graceful curve to the second floor and the carved banister turned into a mezzanine railing that ran in an oval around the edge of the upper floor.
“Isn’t that simply stupendous?” Tasha burst out. “Come on, let’s go upstairs.”
Once at the top of the stairs, Rose paused to look around. Usually the second floor of a house was completely separate from the first floor. Here, the center was missing so a person could stand at the rail and look down at the reception rooms below. Two huge chandeliers hung like an ice princess’s fantasy from the ceiling. She wondered if the chandeliers would shake if she went up to the pink room and stamped around.
“How elegant,” she exclaimed.
“Shh,” Tasha cautioned her. “Some of the girls are still sleeping. Usually
I
would still be sleeping.” She made a face. “But I heard you were here and couldn’t wait to meet you.”
Rose looked around. There were two doors on each of the four sides, each door labeled with a girl’s name engraved on a brass plaque. Three corners had smaller doors, and the fourth corner, behind the top of the stairs, had a small sitting area. Rose imagined that was where the men waited until…Ugh. “Is that where your, uh, customers sit and wait their turn?”
Tasha blinked large eyes at her. “Lord, no. How disgusting.” She made a face. “No, we’re much classier than that here at The Limit. At Gabe’s place the men might go in and out like…” When she saw Rose’s face, she broke off to giggle. Rose tried to make her expression bland, but she was sure her horrified fascination still showed. “Here each of us girls has only one or two appointments a night, and we go downstairs to the reception rooms to meet them.”
She was blushing. Rose was sure she was blushing. “Oh, I see.”
Tasha trilled a laugh. “Would you like to see my room?”
Rose nodded, but she wasn’t sure she did. This was so sordid. Old fashioned word, sordid, but she couldn’t think of anything better. Was she a prude? She’d never thought so, but maybe living at the den had changed her. Taye and Carla were openly affectionate in public, but other than chaste kissing, they kept their private lives private.
What did a businesswoman’s bedroom look like? Rose followed Tasha into her room and decided it was like any bedroom. The bed wasn’t huge, just a full sized poster bed with scarves draped from one post to another. There was a vanity with a large mirror, a dresser, and a cupboard. Rose tried not to stare at the bed, but she couldn’t help it. Nor could she help the blush that scorched her face. Tasha laughed.
“What?” the businesswoman asked.
“Nothing. Um. Those scarves are pretty.”
“Uh-huh. I keep them there so they’re handy for tying up appointments. Or for them to tie me up, whichever they prefer.”
Rose didn’t know how, but the heat in her cheeks shot up to her hairline. “Oh,” she squeaked.
Tasha laughed again. “You’re cute, Rose.”
“I guess I must seem like a country hick.”
“Not in that blouse. It looks like a Lisa & Hannah design.”
Rose hurried to latch onto that, tearing her attention from the bed. “It is. Lisa designed it for me. Hannah helped me pick out the fabric.”
Tasha’s brown eyes went wide. “Really? A custom job? Sweet. Let’s go shopping.”
Rose agreed with relieved enthusiasm, anxious to escape. She followed Tasha downstairs and paused in the foyer to wait for their escort. Tasha went out the door without stopping. After a second, she popped her head back in. “Aren’t you coming?”
“Well, sure, but where’s our escort?”
“Escort?” Tasha frowned in confusion, and then nodded in comprehension. “Oh, yeah, your whistle. Go get it. I’ll wait here.”
“No, I mean…” Rose stared, her mouth half open, as realization seeped through her. “You mean we can go by ourselves?”
The other woman looked as confused as Rose felt. “Unless you want to wait for Cayla or Michelle to go with us. But they won’t be up for another hour probably. They both had late appointments last night.”
Rose shook her head. “Be right back.”
It took only a few minutes to fetch her whistle from the pink room upstairs. She and Tasha walked down the street, chatting about clothes. Rose found herself glancing around as they walked. It was a beautiful neighborhood full of beautiful homes, but she noticed that with only part of her brain. The rest was busy trying to identify why she felt exposed. She had all her clothes on, didn’t she? Every few steps she patted her whistle or brushed a hand over the hilt of her knife hidden beneath her blouse.
After a block, Tasha stopped. “What on earth is wrong with you?”
“Nothing.” Rose patted her whistle again. “I feel naked. This is the first time in eight years that I’ve gone anywhere without a male escort. I keep looking around to see where they are.”
“Good lord. Women really are kept on a leash out West? I heard that, but it’s ridiculous.” Tasha tugged her arm. “Come on, I don’t want to miss the express.”
Rose felt a smile grow on her lips. Having to be escorted everywhere had irked her. Now she was free. Some things about Omaha were horrifying. Being able to go shopping with a friend instead of six growling wolves was not one of them.
The express, which is what Tasha called the vehicle that seated ten, might be one. It was Omaha’s version of a city bus, and Tasha paid a fifty bit for each of them, which Rose thought was outright piracy. Compared to the mayor’s car, it was loud and smelly, and the hard, wooden seats were very uncomfortable, but it dropped them off at the shopping district after only a thirty-minute ride. It would have taken them at least two hours to walk that far.
After Kearney, with its one main store, Omaha’s shops were amazing. Tasha took her to ten different stores that sold products for women like clothing, jewelry, shampoos, lotions, perfumes, and shoes. It was gratifying to have some of the salesmen recognize her blouse as a Lisa & Hannah original. Like walking without an overbearingly protective escort, it was odd to see other women unescorted. And so many of them. She’d seen at least fifty women this morning. She knew every woman in Kearny. Not one of these women was familiar to her. Some of them were obvious in their contempt.
“Tasha,” she said in a low voice as they looked through a display of scarves, “why do those girls over there keep sneering in this direction? Do you know them?”
Tasha didn’t even glance at the two young women. “Them? They’re rich girls. Their daddies can afford to pay the Single Status Tariff.” Her lip curled. “I won’t be a business woman forever. Someday they’ll look up to me.” She tossed the scarf she held back into the display. “I’m done here.”