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“Three thousand pounds?” I mouth. My heart rate kicks up a notch at the very idea. I give her a conspiratorial look. “Is that why you said that earlier? About me catching all the men in the room's eye?”
“To be blunt. Yes. I know how hard it is. Before this, I worked in an office for minimum wage. Now I live in a beautiful part of Surrey and I work my own hours. I can afford what I want. Take amazing holidays. None of that was possible before this.” She’s unapologetic.
“So what happens if you don’t like the guy, but he likes you?”
She shrugs. “So you bang him and give him what he wants. Some girls can do it because you’re playing a part. Honestly, for me, it becomes more about the man I’m pleasing and less about the money,” she says. “They treat me right. To be a member at the club, you have to follow the rules. The girls are not permitted to make deals outside the club, we’re contracted, but really it’s for our own safety. One of the girls from work was hit one time, a while ago, and the man was not only barred for life, but they put him up on assault charges. I’m meeting a man tonight, but it’s all arranged with the club. They know where I am at all times.”
“Holy shit.”
“Tell me about it. Which is why we all sign contracts to protect ourselves,” she explains. “You don’t want to go into anything half-hearted. Some girls are really into being tied up, or spanked, some love being submissive or even dominant.”
My head spins.
Is she telling me all of this because she thinks I could do it too? Or am I just her lowly bartender/therapist.
“So on a really, really good night?” I press. I can’t seem to let it go. “What’s the most you’ve ever been paid?”
Her lips curl up in a smile. “Ten thousand.”
My eyes bulge. “Ten grand?”
She shrugs. “He has certain needs, shall we say, and I fulfilled them. Like I say, we never have to do anything we don’t want to do, but it makes things a lot easier if you’re open to all kinds of kinks. It’s controlled so the women who work there are valued; their safety is number one. It’s something unique and that’s why Élégance is so well respected in the industry.”
My head spins. It would take me more than six months to earn that kind of money, if I were lucky.
“That’s amazing,” I tell her. “Truly. But I don’t know if I’d be cut out for something like that.”
“I used to think that too. And trust me, I’m not trying to sweeten it. Doing this line of work isn’t for the faint hearted.” She slides a card over the bar at me. “Daphne is the woman to talk to. If you’re ever curious.”
I frown. “You really think rich men would go for someone like me?”
She laughs, throwing her head back. “Honey, they’d be fighting over you.” She glances down at her phone and pushes her stool back from the bar. “Think about it.”
I watch as she turns and greets a man half-way across the bar. He’s gorgeous. Well-dressed. A little older than her, but not ancient. He kisses her on both cheeks, then placing one hand on the small of her back, they move into the restaurant.
I try not to stare, but I can’t help it.
Glancing down at the card, I flip it over, reading the number on the back and quickly stuff it in my back pocket.
Could I honestly be an escort? I mean. I can’t say the idea has ever come into my head. I’ll be honest. It hasn’t.
And as much as Neve said she wasn’t glamorizing it, it kinda sounded like an okay deal. Aside from the fact you have to have sex with strangers. Though, judging by the dude that just walked in here, it wouldn’t be a hardship.
I continue to clean the bar, my mind elsewhere while the business card burns a hole inmy back pocket for the rest of the night.
Chapter Three
Charlize
The week drags on.
All I seem to be able to do is think about what Neve said about the club.
I took the card out of my pocket the minute I got back to my tiny, shared apartment, placing it on my nightstand so it didn’t accidentally end up in the wash.
The apartment I share with three other girls — even though it’s only a two bedroom — is in Blakefield. Not the greatest of neighbourhoods, but I came here with no excuses. Doing London for a year, albeit on a budget, is something I’ve wanted to do for many years. And it isn’t because of him.
I’d be lying if I said I never thought of Alistair Devereaux. It’s not like I could forget.
