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Sex for money. The oldest profession. I never dreamed I'd experience this level of dehumanization, but at least I'll enjoy a taste of the high life.
Who am I kidding? I don't look down on sex workers; people do what they gotta do. But I never thought I'd become one.
The green satin dress is too short. It's from Hektor's collection, to ensure I look as expensive as his fees suggest.
My phone rings. I glance at the screen to see it's my friend Josie, and I swipe to green, putting the phone on speaker.
"Hi, Morgana," she says. "News got around. Apparently, you're giving a client the full package?"
Josie works for Hektor, too, and is more at peace with it than I am, but Hektor would kill her if she tried to run away. When we met, she warned me he would turn on me eventually. I didn't listen, but we became firm friends, and although she's a little younger than me, she's far more worldly.
"I have zero options," I say. "If I don't do whatever Vito tells me, Hektor will turn my parents and me into modern art."
"I'm sorry, but it was always gonna come to this. Just get Vito off quickly, then bail. Or pretend to love it. Ever seen Pretty Woman?"
I accidentally smudge a blob of mascara onto my nose. "Yes, I have. It's a movie. Life doesn't work that way. And I don't want to be a kept woman."
"Be honest—if it were Richard Gere, it'd be awesome."
"Funny you should say that because I met a billionaire today." I line my eyes with a kohl pencil. "He offered to let me interview him."
"Sounds good. Is he hot?"
Oh fuck, yes.
"I didn't notice. And I walked away without getting his number, so it won't happen anyway."
I know Josie too well. She's about to grant me her penetrating insight, whether or not I wanna hear it.
"You've put your dreams on hold and ended up in the gutter because of your father's mistakes," she says. "But don't write yourself offyet, honey."
"My dreams aredead, not on hold," I say, applying rose-pink lipstick. "I'm trapped. And my father means well, even if he goes about it all wrong. Mom needs him so much. She's frail these days and can't handle the stress."
"Her Addison's symptoms still bad?"
"Yes." I blink away tears, trying to stop my eyeliner from running. "I took her some soup earlier, but she's been asleep otherwise. I'll get her pills when I can afford them. But I can't let my parents discover how much trouble I've gotten into. It'd kill them."
Josie hears the wobble in my voice and changes tack. "Come on. Tell me more about your billionaire."
"He's notmybillionaire. And I'm about to become a fully-fledged call girl. I have bigger problems than some rich hottie."
"There are good men out there, Morgana. You might meet one someday."
"I don'twantto fall in love again. It sucked last time." I scowl at myself in the mirror. "I'm defective, and it must show. How else do these evil bastards find me? It's not as though I take out ads that say, 'Naive damaged goods seeks abusive asshole. Must be willing to raise hopes of happiness only to dash to the ground. No timewasters.'"
"Hey, don't be that way," she says, her voice soothing. "And as for the job, it's not that bad. Clients are wealthy too. If one takes a shine to you, he'll pay your bills and spoil you. And if you don't expect love or affection, that's as good as it gets."
"I guess."
"Remember—get through the first time, and it'll never be this bad again."
A car engine outside.
"Gotta go."
I glance out of the window. A white Mercedes S-class sedan is pulling up in the lot.
Here I go.
