Selling Out (12 page)

“That’s disgusting. Also, please stop being creepy.”

“My point is, the guns and the beatings, even the money,
that’s the web. It’s easy to see, so people think that’s why prostitutes stay
in the life. But really they’re stuck because of the venom, the sick poison of
shame and fear that we’ll never fit in with regular people again—it paralyzes
us. We stay there, frozen, even knowing that we’re going to get eaten.”

“Oh, Shelly,” came Allie’s voice from the door. “You are
like normal people.”

Something caught in my chest before I breathed it out. “This
is why you don’t lie,” I told Ella. “Too easy to spot.”

Allie dropped a box of doughnuts on the table, and Ella
grabbed one.

“Now what is this I hear about a trip to a club?” Allie
asked as she grabbed her own doughnut.

“Who told you that?”

“A little birdie.” When I stared at her, she conceded.
“Okay, Adrian may have told me about your clothes. And the fake IDs.”

“Traitor,” I said, snatching the doughnut from Allie’s hand.

She rolled her eyes and grabbed another. “Someone has to
talk you out of it. It’s a dumb idea.”

“It’s the only idea,” I said. “Which makes it a good one.”

“I assume you’re bringing Philip along for protection,”
Allie said, probing.

I examined my nails, feigning nonchalance even though I’d
never get it past her. “Actually, I’m bringing Luke. Or I will, as soon as I
ask him and he says yes.”

Allie’s eyes never left mine. “Ella, can you excuse us a
moment?”

“Uh-oh. It must be time for my spanking.”

She grabbed an extra doughnut before heading out. “Okay. If
I hear any screaming, I’m going to assume they’re cries of ecstasy.”

“What are you teaching that girl?” Allie asked when Ella had
cleared the room.

“I think she’s been watching too much HBO.”

“And what’s this about Luke?”

“Yeah, you know, the detective who can gather clues and make
arrests and stuff. I figure he’ll be useful to have around, since we want to
get our names cleared. Legally. Philip would probably start World War III
before our drinks came.”

“Whatever, it’s always about Luke with you. Seriously, can
you guys just go fuck it out? The world would be grateful.”

“Tried that. He didn’t want me.”

She made a sound of disbelief. “The way he looks at you, the
way he talks about you. He’s into you. Big-time.”

“Yeah, and he still doesn’t fuck me. Makes you wonder what’s
holding him back, doesn’t it?”

“Honestly? Not really, no. He’s a nice guy and all, but I’m
much more concerned about you. Why don’t you just forget about him? There are
other cops, other men.”

She didn’t sound convinced, though, as if she knew her words
were falling on deaf ears, and oh, they were. Other cops? To pay off so I could
work uninterrupted. Other men? Other paychecks. There was no one but Luke for
me. There wasn’t even him. Just me and my wanting of him.

“Don’t you think I’d let him go if I could?” I dropped my
voice. “I can’t. I think…I think I might love him.”

“Bullshit,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

“Excuse me?”

“What do you care about, exactly? His penchant for singing
show tunes in the shower? Or maybe it’s the way he cuddles with you after sex.
No, wait, you guys don’t have sex. And you don’t know anything at all about
him.”

Righteous anger flooded me, a relief really, because what
the hell? “And I suppose you knew every secret of Colin’s life before you fell
in love with him.”

“I didn’t pretend to love him when he barely gave me the
time of day.”

I suppressed my gasp of pain with ruthless efficiency. I
could control my breath, my body, the goddamned spasms in my cunt to fake an
orgasm. That was why every man wanted me, everyone except for Luke.
“I want it to be real,”
he’d said.
Except I’d faked it for so long I didn’t know how to stop. If I wasn’t
pretending, wasn’t modeling every word, every turn of my head to elicit the
proper reaction, what would I do? If I stripped away the sultry sexpot and the
ruthless working girl and even the doting godmother, what would be left?

“Then tell me.” I swallowed hard, willing to beg. “Tell me
what I have to do to make him want me.”

Her laugh was harsh, metal on metal. “You’re like some sort
of man whisperer. You know what they’re thinking, what they want. You know how
to be around them so that they all fall at your feet. With Luke, you’re dumb as
a rock. And maybe that’s the best argument I’ve ever heard for you two getting
together.”

“I’ll make him want me,” I said grimly. “And you’ll eat your
words.”

Allie stared straight ahead, her expression closed, her body
rigid. It was clear she didn’t understand me. We used to see men the same way.
They used us, and we used them right back. But she was in love now, happy now,
and I guess she didn’t have the black heart to keep up the charade.

Tiredly, she said, “I’m not going to argue with you.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything.” I hated the
nasty turn in my voice; I reveled in it. “You think you’ve got me figured out?
Because you landed yourself a man, the only one in the city who was willing to
put up with your bullshit?”

Shock widened her eyes, parted her lips.

“I bet you repay him nicely too. Do you give him shit if he
stays out late? Nag him to put the toilet seat down? That’s what wives do, but
you’ll make it up to him at night. Make him forget about all the trouble you
cause, because hell, I told you what to do with your mouth.”

Once upon a time, she would have called me a bitch. She
would have put me in my place.

She turned to me, her frown slight, more thoughtful than
hurt. “You went too far.”

The quiet words stung more than epithets. “So leave.”

“I will,” she said, and I held my breath. “But I’ll come
back. You’ll keep pushing me, and I’ll keep coming back, because I owe you my
life. You saved me a hundred times over, and nothing you could ever say or do
to me will be enough to repay that.”

She turned back at the door. “You know, if it was a pride
thing, I wouldn’t mind at all. The one man who could resist you, so you have to
bring him to his knees. That would be fine. But I don’t think that’s it. You
seek him because you know it’s impossible. You’re setting yourself up for
failure, just so it won’t be your fault when you’re alone. So you can be alone
and blame every asshole john and every uptight cop instead of yourself.”

* * * *

Inheritances are funny things. They aren’t earned; we get
them whether we deserve them or not. But I had learned long ago that everything
came at a price. On the first day my father came to my room, he didn’t touch
me. He sat on my bed and told me that my mother had abandoned us both. She was
weak, and he was strong. He hoped I would be strong too.

He left a small velvet bag of rocks on the bed. Mostly
diamonds but other types of gems too, rubies and emeralds all beautifully cut
and glittering by my bedside lamp. He explained that he had melted down my
mother’s jewelry after she left. It was rightfully mine, considering I would
take her place.

Only years later, when I left the house with them in my
possession, did I realize that she would have taken her jewelry with her. Which
meant her leaving had been an unplanned escape or that she hadn’t left at
all—at least not willingly. Part of me preferred this rendition, since it meant
my mother hadn’t abandoned me to a monster. But these were all stories, part of
the Laurent family legacy.

I hadn’t sold the jewels, even when Allie and I had
desperately needed the money. I had preferred to sell my skin than part with them,
for reasons I couldn’t quite understand. I set out in the world with both my
dignity and my inheritance intact, and now I only had the latter.

My dependence on those stones was fading, though. I could
feel the weight of them lifting, their manacles unlatched. Their worth to me
was measured not in blood but money—what I could buy with them. A new life for
Ella, maybe. And if I bestowed the money upon her, like our own makeshift
inheritance, what price would she pay?

The large sitting room and wet bar were usually empty unless
Philip was entertaining. I slipped along the wall, trailing my finger over a
lesser-known Matisse. In his private rooms, Philip’s taste was spare and
masculine. However, he spent a small fortune decorating the public rooms with artwork
and bric-a-brac. The only style was expensive, and that was the point. I had
once teased him about being so obvious. He replied that he had to be—people
often didn’t see what was in front of their eyes.

I had taken this lesson to heart.

Nestled in a bookshelf was an abstract sculpture of a
rainbow with metal rays jutting from an unpolished block of concrete. Without
the muted colors on each thin pipe, this would just be a piece of construction
refuse. Maybe it had been once, though Philip had paid five figures in an
auction at Christie’s in New York to acquire it. I loved the way the artist had
taken something ugly and made it valuable and unique—but without hiding its
true nature. I also loved the way it stored my gemstones, which filled a dip in
the concrete. I assumed that no one would look twice at the treasure at the end
of the rainbow. Hiding in plain sight. Isn’t that what I did every day, every
trick? Even if the maid had dared to steal from Philip, the rainbow statuette
hardly seemed like the most valuable trinket in the room. It looked like
Swarovski had thrown up on a brick.

I had brought the stones with me when I lived with Philip.
My departure had been abrupt, and I’d never gotten to retrieve them. That
turned out to be a good thing. If this had been at my apartment, it would have
been stuck there along with the rest of my belongings.

I scooped them out, a handful of glittering color, my own
tainted rainbow that I had been following for years, a hopeless quest for
treasure at the end. An emerald sparkled against my palm, the same green that
had gazed at me with heat and passion and distrust, endless facets of light and
dark, of blind hope and a long tumble to fathomless depths. It mesmerized me
against my will, held me in its thrall so that I’d never be able to let it go.

“Find what you’re looking for?”

I whirled at the sound of Philip’s voice. His hands were
slung into the pockets of his dress slacks, his shirtsleeves rolled up. I
searched his face for signs of accusation but found only a sort of sheepish
tension. His dark eyes were hooded.

Slipping the stones into my pocket, I perused the textbooks
on the shelf. “Not yet. Got any recommendations?”

He strolled closer, his distracted gaze flicking over the
titles. “I didn’t think you were interested in architecture.”

I lowered my voice. “I’m interested in what you want me to
be.”

Mild amusement lit his face. “Very pretty. Actually, your
erstwhile profession is what I came to talk to you about.”

I glanced around the large room, with its wall-to-wall
marble flooring and columned door frames. “Here? I think this may be the one
room we never christened.”

“Talk wasn’t a euphemism. Come, sit.”

Oh, fine. We had an entire relationship built on empty sex,
but now he wanted to talk. I perched on the cool leather recliner while he took
the one opposite me.

He stared out the distant window, unseeing, then turned to
me. “Last night, I was…hasty. I was stressed out and fell back into our
routine, but I didn’t mean to have sex with you, and not that way.”

“I’m shocked. Are you apologizing to me?”

“No. I’m saying I should have taken the time to negotiate.
Clear terms make sure everyone is on the same page.”

“Ah.”

“I’d like you to reconsider the situation with Ella.”

I made a noncommittal sound.

“It wouldn’t be as…sleazy as it may have seemed before.”

“
Sleazy
is not a
word I associate with you. Perverted, deranged—”

“All right, your point is made.”

“I’m not selling her to you.”

“And I wasn’t planning on paying you. I find that sex by the
hour holds less interest for me now that a certain woman is out of the game.”

“How flattering,” I said flatly.

He shrugged. “Money is a means to an end. You know that. You
were perfectly happy with our arrangement at one time.”

“That’s true.”

“Fine, so I’m feeling a little guilty.”

I shook my head in affectionate exasperation. “This isn’t
the first time I’ve had to make a guy feel better about what I do, but I never
expected to do it for you.”

“I had everything perfectly justified in my head.” He
scowled. “Until she came here.”

“She has a way of disrupting the status quo,” I agreed.

“With you, it was different. You had been doing this
already. You knew what you were getting into. It was a job for you, and you did
it well.”

I inclined my head. “Thank you.”

“But she’s…”

He looked lost in thought, bewildered.

“I don’t know what she is. She seems so young, and yet she’s
clearly old enough. She’s innocent, but she swears like a sailor. She wants to
have sex, but she doesn’t… She hasn’t…”

“A virgin. I think that’s the word you’re looking for.”

“Christ. Is she really?”

“Pretty sure.”

“How unsavory.” He looked fascinated.

“Hmm. You remember that you promised to keep your hands off.
Do I need to fit her with a chastity belt around you?”

His arousal thrummed through the air. “Only if you want me to
physically pry it from her body and fuck her raw.”

Of course, if her purity turned him on, it made sense that
chastity would too. Apparently he’d found a new fetish, although whether his
trigger was purity or just Ella, I wasn’t sure. “Never mind. We’ll just have to
rely on your honor.”

“We really are in danger.” He grew serious. “I want to keep
her, but if I did… If she were really with me, she wouldn’t be able to go
back.”