emotion.” She quickly scanned through my application one last time before saying, “I think you’ll do. When can you start?”
“As soon as possible.” I was on a deadline. I’d given myself a week to do this, figuring I could miss that much class and still pass. I just hoped it was enough time to raise the money I needed.
She smiled at me again, pleased. “Excellent. How does tonight sound?”
“Tonight?” I repeated, my voice squeaking. “I don’t have any clothes.” Or time to find someone to deflower me quick so I didn’t lose my virginity and get the blood sucked out of me on the same night.
“We have an extensive closet here for just such an occasion.” She pushed a button on her phone. “Jacques, please bring three outfits with Kristos in mind to my office.”
A moment later, a guy I assumed was Jacques stalked into the office in a shock of pink hair and tight neon green jeans. His mesh tank top displayed a lean, defined frame and left nothing to the imagination. “Make way for fashion, ladies,” he said in a high trill. In his arms, he carried a jumble of clothes which he arranged into outfits on the back of the couch that sat along the far wall of Madame Rouge’s spacious office.
The clothes he’d brought looked small and way too revealing. I found myself tugging on the hem of my skirt again, anxious at the thought of exposing so much skin.
Madame Rouge waved her hand, the motion languid and elegant. “Jacques meet Myra. She’ll be going out for an audition tonight.”
Jacques sighed and looked down his nose at me. He didn’t speak, just sniffed and then resumed fussing over the clothes he’d brought in.
“Nice to meet you,” I said, trying to be polite.
“Yeah, sure.” He flicked his wrist in my general direction. Then, holding up a yellow dress, he asked, “What about this one?”
“I prefer the blue for her. She’s perfect for jewel tones with her alabaster skin and auburn hair.” Madame picked up a blue corset and a skinny band of leather that was supposed to be a skirt. “But the pink might be good too.” The pink in question was a go-go hooker look consisting of a latex mini dress with matching thigh-high boots. She turned to me, focusing those impossibly clear blue eyes on me, lashes all aflutter. “What do you think, Miss Danson?”
“I think none of that is anything fresh meat would wear,” I said, blurting out my gut reaction. It all looked cheap and tawdry to me and yeah, I was selling my body, but I had some standards thank-you-very-much. I was not vampire bait Barbie. Assuming I had any say in the matter. While I would do anything for my mom, I wouldn’t go along to get along either.
Madame Rouge didn’t seem too upset by my blunt response, but Jacques stiffened and glared at me with narrowed eyes.
She fingered the pink latex and then let it go with a small sigh. “It’s all very fashionable, but she has a point, I think. Do we have anything more romantic, more flow-y?”
Jacques huffed and gathered up the clothes. “I’ll be right back.” He left the room, his cowboy boots making a thudding sound despite the plush carpet.
“Sorry,” I called after him with an apologetic look to Madame Rouge. Note to self: Try not to piss everyone off on your first day on the job.
Madam Rouge just laughed, a sweet musical sound that probably made birds burn with envy. She was a mesmerizing concoction of feminine perfection and I felt like Bertha the fat, hippy and hairy next to her. “No worries, my dear. I like a girl who has a vision of her brand.”
“Brand?”
She went to her desk. “Yes, you are a product and how you package yourself determines how well you’ll sell.” She typed something on her computer and turned the screen so I could see. “We set up web pages for each of our girls. We do a pictorial and a bio targeting certain tastes and experiences. We like to offer clients a variety of pleasures.”
I leaned in and looked at the page.
“As soon as possible.” I was on a deadline. I’d given myself a week to do this, figuring I could miss that much class and still pass. I just hoped it was enough time to raise the money I needed.
She smiled at me again, pleased. “Excellent. How does tonight sound?”
“Tonight?” I repeated, my voice squeaking. “I don’t have any clothes.” Or time to find someone to deflower me quick so I didn’t lose my virginity and get the blood sucked out of me on the same night.
“We have an extensive closet here for just such an occasion.” She pushed a button on her phone. “Jacques, please bring three outfits with Kristos in mind to my office.”
A moment later, a guy I assumed was Jacques stalked into the office in a shock of pink hair and tight neon green jeans. His mesh tank top displayed a lean, defined frame and left nothing to the imagination. “Make way for fashion, ladies,” he said in a high trill. In his arms, he carried a jumble of clothes which he arranged into outfits on the back of the couch that sat along the far wall of Madame Rouge’s spacious office.
The clothes he’d brought looked small and way too revealing. I found myself tugging on the hem of my skirt again, anxious at the thought of exposing so much skin.
Madame Rouge waved her hand, the motion languid and elegant. “Jacques meet Myra. She’ll be going out for an audition tonight.”
Jacques sighed and looked down his nose at me. He didn’t speak, just sniffed and then resumed fussing over the clothes he’d brought in.
“Nice to meet you,” I said, trying to be polite.
“Yeah, sure.” He flicked his wrist in my general direction. Then, holding up a yellow dress, he asked, “What about this one?”
“I prefer the blue for her. She’s perfect for jewel tones with her alabaster skin and auburn hair.” Madame picked up a blue corset and a skinny band of leather that was supposed to be a skirt. “But the pink might be good too.” The pink in question was a go-go hooker look consisting of a latex mini dress with matching thigh-high boots. She turned to me, focusing those impossibly clear blue eyes on me, lashes all aflutter. “What do you think, Miss Danson?”
“I think none of that is anything fresh meat would wear,” I said, blurting out my gut reaction. It all looked cheap and tawdry to me and yeah, I was selling my body, but I had some standards thank-you-very-much. I was not vampire bait Barbie. Assuming I had any say in the matter. While I would do anything for my mom, I wouldn’t go along to get along either.
Madame Rouge didn’t seem too upset by my blunt response, but Jacques stiffened and glared at me with narrowed eyes.
She fingered the pink latex and then let it go with a small sigh. “It’s all very fashionable, but she has a point, I think. Do we have anything more romantic, more flow-y?”
Jacques huffed and gathered up the clothes. “I’ll be right back.” He left the room, his cowboy boots making a thudding sound despite the plush carpet.
“Sorry,” I called after him with an apologetic look to Madame Rouge. Note to self: Try not to piss everyone off on your first day on the job.
Madam Rouge just laughed, a sweet musical sound that probably made birds burn with envy. She was a mesmerizing concoction of feminine perfection and I felt like Bertha the fat, hippy and hairy next to her. “No worries, my dear. I like a girl who has a vision of her brand.”
“Brand?”
She went to her desk. “Yes, you are a product and how you package yourself determines how well you’ll sell.” She typed something on her computer and turned the screen so I could see. “We set up web pages for each of our girls. We do a pictorial and a bio targeting certain tastes and experiences. We like to offer clients a variety of pleasures.”
I leaned in and looked at the page.
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