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“Very well. She is my sister.”
Oh.
. . .I’m the idiot.
The assuming idiot.
Damn it, he was right.
Even though my body lay in bed, mentally, I was somewhere else, lost among stacks of paper, sorting my private thoughts.
Our conversation didn’t go much further than the admission that the woman was his sister. I felt too dumbfounded to ask anything else. And I needed some time to lick my wounded ego, so Harper, Lyra, and I went downtown for the day to shop.
It helped to take my mind off things, but now that I was alone again, I felt like an idiot.
I realized he was right. Iwasbad at assuming things. I had done it with Ezra more times than I cared to count.
So before I fell asleep, I decided it was something I would work on.
A little personal growth never hurt anyone.
Right?
Right.
It was good to have a day off from the bathhouse, but now Harper and I were back at it.
I sat on the floor in front of the lush settee, nestled in the extravagant room with the other girls. Their seemingly carefree laughter and soft, feminine voices filled the air as we awaited our turn on the floor. The youngest of the group, Vera, sat cross-legged behind me, her slender fingers braiding my hair.
“I’ve never seen someone so young with white hair before,” she mused as she worked away. “Has it always been like this?”
I fingered a loose strand of my hair. “Yes, for as long as I can remember.”
“It’s quite unusual.” She paused. “But it is lovely, and it does suit you. There.” She clapped my shoulders gently. “All done.”
“Thank you,” I said with a soft smile as I moved to sit on the settee beside her.
“Do you like it?” Vera asked as she held up a mirror for me to see.
I nodded. “Yes, it’s beautiful.”
As Vera returned the mirror to one of the many makeup vanities, my thoughts drifted to Von’s sister. That night, she’d disappeared behind a door attached to the bathhouse. Why was she here? Thinking about it now, she had been wearing a courtesan’s robe . . . Did she work here?
During the past few weeks, I had not seen her on the floor, but that didn’t mean she didn’t work here.
I licked my lips. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure,” Vera said as she began to pick at a lone hangnail, which marred her otherwise perfect manicure.
“Are there women that work here that don’t work the floor?”
She nodded, her freshly curled hair bouncing in reply. “There are. The women who bring in high volumes of clientele are given room and board—private chambers with fresh bed linens and all the clothes they could ever want. I heard they get three meals a day, and the food, apparently, is spectacular.”
I nodded, noting how her eyes lit up at the mention of food. Come to think of it—she was impossibly thin. “Do you know any of them?” I inquired.
“Nope,” she said, popping the “p.” “Because they already have a list of regulars, they don’t attend pool side or converse with us commoners.” She giggled. “Seeing one of them is like seeing a magical creature—a unicorn.” She giggled some more before she let out a dreamy sigh. “I would love to be one of those women.”
“Why would you want that?” The question slipped out before I could close my big quest-blowing mouth.
