203.
Second floor, then, and my eyes flick to the elevator. I don’t like the idea of being potentially trapped inside it in case anything goes wrong, but taking the stairs would be suspicious.
“I want to try her.” Blaze taps back out into the main menu, this carousel of pictures of women. “And… yeah, I like the look of Mary here too.”
Pam nods. “All right. Let’s see if we can find one to your exacting tastes.”
I wonder if Blaze ever has sampled themerchandise.
I don’t see why he would have had to. Women have always thrown themselves at him. But then, I doubt most of the men who visit this place reallyneedto visit.
Pam takes us up the elevator and to the second floor.
Under my breath, I start whispering, “Two-oh-one, two-oh-two, two-oh-three.”
Hopefully Pandora will get the hint.
“This one was… Sam? No, Sarah. Fuck, all the S names sound the same,” Blaze says with a derisive laugh. “Have you considered renaming them to something more interesting? Like Cherry or Margarita or whatever?”
I see another look of annoyance cross Pam’s features, but she smiles at him. “Then we’d give the impression that we’re a bit lower class. Or that this is a strip club.”
The surroundings, with the warm blues and immaculate carpets, certainly don’t give any indication that it’s a lower class… establishment. I glance around, expecting to see more guards, but it seems like they don’t keep this place under heavy security.
With people, at least.
I don’t doubt for a moment that the entire place is monitored with cameras and other security devices.
Maybe not the rooms themselves, but everywhere else has to be under guard somehow.
“All right.” Blaze swipes his card at the door, but it doesn’t beep.
“That one can only get you out, not in,” Pam explains. She swipes her own card and pushes the door open for us. “Go ahead.”
Like when we’d entered the other rooms, my paranoia surges, and I want to keep the door open while Blaze goes inside. But I don’t want anyone to hear what we say to Samantha, either, so I step inside and scan my surroundings.
It’s the same sort of generic hotel setting, but unlike the last girl, Samantha is lying down on her back already, and she doesn’t even look in our direction.
Blaze checks to make sure the door is closed, then glances around the room. Checking for cameras, I assume, but I don’t see any obvious ones.
“Hey, pretty,” Blaze says to Samantha. He goes to sit down next to her.
She flinches away from him, but then her eyes narrow as she recognizes Blaze — and me.
I’m relieved to see there’s light in them, but it doesn’t stop her from saying, “How may I serve you… sir?”
The question makes my stomach roil, even more so than it had with the others because this feels more personal somehow. Maybe it’s that she’s on the periphery of Pandora’s life, or maybe it’s something else. I’m not sure of what it is, but I know I don’t like it.
“You been here long?” Blaze asks.
Samantha reaches for the hem of her see-through nightie, but Blaze wraps his arm around her wrist to stop her. “Sir?” she asks, her voice holding an edge of wariness. She licks her lips, then says slowly, “I don’t know.”
“You remind me of somebody.” Blaze keeps his hand on her wrist. “She’s a brunette though. Kind of boisterous. Has a thing for snakes. Do you like snakes?”
“No, sir,” she says, shaking her head. She swallows hard. “May I serve you?” she asks, and the wariness has turned into borderline desperation. “I’m new, but I’ll do my best to make you feel good.”
“Yeah. You can stay quiet for a little while.” Blaze reaches up to his ear.
He’s removing his earpiece, I realize, and placing it inside Samantha’s ear.
