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“It looks great,” Stanley says as he comes to stand next to me. “You're truly talented, Aaliyah. You’ll learn a lot tonight, and I hope the lesson catapults you forward. Some people don't recover.”

His voice is like white noise playing in the background, but when I finally get over my own pride and happiness, I frown as I realize what he said.

“What do you mean?” I inquire. “What lesson do people not recover from? It’s just an art exhibit.”

Stanley smirks and shakes his head like he's entertaining a child. “It’s always more than just an art exhibit. But don't worry about that right now. Let’s just let the lesson play out.”

“What lesson?” I ask again, this time with a deep furrow in my brow.

Stanley doesn't answer as he turns his back and walks over to the front door. “Well, it’s about that time. Everything’s in place and looking good. When it starts, you don't have to tell anyone that you're the artist. Let them look around and take it all in themselves. Don't make them feel like you're forcing them to buy out of sympathy. I hope you have your prices on hand.”

“I do,” I reply. “I thought long and hard about it, and I know what I wanna charge for each one. I'm ready.”

“Good. Alright, it’s seven o’clock. Let’s see how many people show up. Take a deep breath and make sure to smile. I’ll be right back.”

“What? Where are you going? It’s show time.”

“Indeed it is. Don't worry, I’ll be back. Good luck.”

“Stanley,” I say, but he just smiles and walks out the front door, leaving me all by myself, my heart beating with the speed of a sports car.

I glance down at my watch, and it’s seven o’clock on the dot. The moment has arrived, and I feel like I'm ready. I've got on an all-black dress, and my hair is perfectly done. I feel good, and although I'm nervous, I know I won't falter. I've been waiting for this moment, and I let out a long exhale to quiet my screaming nerves. Stanley will be back any minute now, probably as his buyers begin to arrive, and we’ll be on the road to changing my life.

Fifteen minutes goes by, and not a single person comes through the door. My hypersensitive nerves slowly go numb as I lean against a pillar and stare at the door. Not only do no buyers walk in, neither does Stanley. With each passing minute, I grow more confused.

Another thirty minutes passes, and I find myself sitting in a chair in the corner as I realize what’s happening. No one is coming. But I don't understand. I thought Stanley had pull. I thought he contacted his people and told them about the exhibit. Doesn't he want to make money? Why would his connections leave him hanging? Why have me set all of this up just for it to be a farce? My mind whirls with bewilderment until I can do nothing but stare at the floor, shaking my head.

“This doesn't make sense,” I whisper to myself with eyes full of unshed tears. “This can't be right. Not a single person? No, something has to be wrong. It just has to be.”

Then the door opens. My head snaps up, thinking that I'm about to see my first buyer, only for it to be Stanley. He's smiling at me—actually, he's laughing under his breath—as he closes the door behind him and takes an extra second to look out the window as if he's making sure no one is coming. Once he's satisfied, he turns and walks across the empty room to stand directly in front of me.

“How you holding up, kid?” he asks.

I scoff. “How am I holding up? The place is completely empty. Not a single person showed up, and I don't understand what’s going on. I thought you contacted the buyers you knew.”

Stanley nods, but never confirms that he contacted anybody. I stand up, losing my patience in a flash.

“Okay, what is going on, Stanley? Because I'm starting to feel like you're playing me. Did you contact buyers or not?”

He smirks, and I swear I see the moment his facade fades away. All of his fake kindness melts right off his face, leaving behind a sinister look in his eyes that makes me take a step back.

“No,” he says. “I didn't contact any buyers. I never even planned to. You haven't earned that yet.”

“What?” I snap. “You don't have buyers to contact at all, do you?”

“Of course I do,” he answers smugly. “But like I said, you haven't earned that yet.”

“Earned it? What are you talking about? Why do you keep talking in code? Earlier it was all this shit about lessons and people not recovering, and now you're telling me what I haven't earned. What’s wrong with you all of a sudden?”

His eyebrows go up. “All of a sudden? There is nothing sudden about what's happening. The signs have always been there. You were just so fixated on getting what you want that you ignored them all. You're a naive little girl who doesn't know how big, dark, and dangerous the world really is.”

“What are you talking about? Why did you have me set all of this up if you didn't wanna work with me?”

“I do want to work with you. Very much so. But you need to learn that nothing is free in this world. Considering that you're a stripper, I would think you know that by now. Did you really think I’d let you into my world without getting what I've always wanted from you?” When I frown, he laughs in my face. “See? Naive. I don't even know how many times I've gone into Fantasies just to see you, Aaliyah. When my world gets heavy, your lap dances unburden the load. You always look so good, and you're so kind and genuine with me. Hell, you even told me you wanted to be an artist. My exact job. It’s like it was meant to be. I see this as destiny. I was meant to teach you this lesson. You and I will absolutely work together, and I truly believe you’ll make a ton of money off your paintings because they really are great. But, we don't get on that road until you give me what I want. That’s why I let you set everything up. So you could see your dream just inches from your grasp. It’s so close you can taste it. But you will get nothing if I don't get what I want. Do you understand now? I mean, come on. Do you really think we set up art exhibits just minutes before the doors are supposed to open?”

Tears fill my eyes, but they aren't sad tears. They're made of pure rage at the sheer magnitude of this man’s audacity. I should've known I couldn't trust him to do right by me. I was a fool for thinking I could trust a man. I can't believe I fell for it.

“Let me guess,” I say, my jaw tightening. “You're just like every other perverted bastard who comes into Fantasies and can't control himself, and you just wanna fuck me.”