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"Hey."
"What's up?"
I drop my books on the table and follow her into her room. I eye her. She's wearing a stunning nude cocktail dress. It’s glitzy and glamourous and screams money, with a sweetheart neckline and tons of flashy rhinestones. She looks amazing and pulls off the style like it was made for her. Teardrop dangly earrings with no necklace finishes off the attire. She looks like a goddamn supermodel.
"Going to work?" I ask.
She gives me a side smile and there's an impish look in her eyes. I almost think she likes it.
"I am, but it won't be a long night. I have to attend some ritzy dinner on the Upper East Side where the plates are about two thousand a person." She rolls her eyes. "Who pays that much for a dinner?"
"Do they donate it to charity? Usually that's why, like they'll donate half."
"I have no idea. Probably not. The richies I know rarely ever give back."
I make a little noise because she has a point.
"So there's no sex tonight?"
If I didn't have to have sex every night, then maybe I could consider it. "Maybe" being the operative word.
"I always expect sex. Any man, even if he isn't paying for sex, is going to expect it at the end. It's just the way it goes."
"I have to ask you something," I say, and she shoots me a fleeting glance. "What makes you think I can do what you do?"
"Because you love sex and you don't have an issue with one-night stands." Damn it, another point. "And you really need the money." Valid. "You wouldn’t have to stress about how you're going to pay for you or Grammy, and you wouldn't have to work so much. Depending on what your hard limits are, you could literally work one weekend a month, and even that would bring in way more than you’re making now. But I wouldn't expect that because Madam Christine demands we work a minimum of seven days a month. Seven days a month, Aubs, and you can live comfortably and stress-free."
But not morally free, and I'm not sure I'm okay with that. Selling my body for sex makes me feel a little dirty.
I watch as she takes out a long coat from the closet and places it carefully on her bed. Even the coat is top quality, and for a minute, I'm a little envious.
"How do you just lie back and take it, though? That's what I don't understand."
Doing what Natalie does takes a special breed of people who let modesty fly out the window. I like to consider myself sexually liberated, but now, I'm not so sure. But was it any different than a one-night stand? I've had plenty of those before and never felt ashamed. I always woke up with no regrets, unless it was one of those random mornings when I woke up to a face only a mother could love.
"It's how every girl does it. Alcohol."
I raise my brows. "You have to get drunk? How do you keep yourself from getting sloppy?"
"Not drunk," she says, putting a few condoms and her makeup compact into her cute clutch. I wonder if she has to bring a variety of sizes. She throws in lip gloss and a few cash bills. "Enough to take the edge off. I usually take half a Percocet too."
Now my eyes are huge. I have a feeling my body would not spread like oil when the time came to do the job and I'd be more like frozen butter.
While I see why she would need to have a drink or take a pill to get through the night, she works a
lot and it's easy to get addicted. That's not something I have time for, let alone want. Natalie sees my surprised look, then takes out her bottle of liquor.
"I don't take the pills all the time. Just two shots of vodka and that's enough to loosen me up. Just depends on what is planned for me. For instance, tonight I'll just take the shots. It's an easy night, even if it ends in sex. Probably limo sex."
"Where do you get the pills from?"
She gives me a deadpanned look. "Aubrey, this is New York. I can walk down any street and into a dark corner and find them. Even in a hippie vegan bread shop. But these I get from the lady of the house. That way I know they're not fucked with."
Why do I keep asking her questions I already know the answers to?
"Do you use a fake name?"
Natalie pauses, then pulls out the chair from the desk. She sits down and looks at me.
