Worthy: Cassius and Faith

10. Opening Night

“I can’t wear this,”I said, cringing as I inspected my reflection in the mirror. I didn’t recognize the girl looking back at me. The Madam had insisted I wear a black lace thonged bodysuit, along with sky-high Louboutin heels. The diamond V pendant glittered from the base of my throat. Macy, my new best friend, had blown my hair out stick-straight. Tate, my willowy roommate, had done my makeup.

I, Faith the Virgin, wanted to run and hide.

“You look hot!” Macy exclaimed. “Doesn’t she look hot, Tate?”

Tate glanced up from the makeup mirror. She wore a silk robe and had only applied one cat-eye’s worth of black eyeliner. “Listen to Macy, Faith. You look hot. Unicorn-virgin hot.” She waggled her eyebrows.

“You’re going to get platinum-level banged in that outfit,” Macy told me confidently.

“Ugh, I can’t do this.” I sank onto the bed.

“We are going to walk into that club half-naked like we own it.” Macy put her hands on her hips. She wore a sexy, sheer baby doll dress with a white lace thong underneath, her amazing assets on full display. “If I can do it, you can do it.”

I arched an eyebrow. “I think you might have more guts than me.”

“I think that if you had enough guts to sign up for this job in the first place, you’ve got plenty to hit the club tonight,” Macy countered. “Plus, I need my new bestie by my side.”

Tate sighed as she drew on her eyeliner. “I think both of you better get downstairs before Gina’s on the warpath. And Faith, stop crying. You’re super hot. Don’t make me get out my whip to convince you.”

“W-What?” I stared at her.

“I’m just kidding, silly! I mean, I do have a whip, but it’s for patrons only.” She laughed when she saw my expression. “Go to the club, will you? Head to the bar, have a drink, and start flirting with the billionaires. I want them riled up—I need to have some ambience going before I get down there and start the show.”

“What show?” Macy asked.

“You’ll see. If you get down there and have a drink. You both need to relax. It’s a club, remember? It’s supposed to be fun.” Tate shooed us from the room.

I wobbled on my heels as Macy and I headed to the service elevator, which would bring us to the rear of the club. There was a throng of girls waiting, all wearing expensive lingerie and heels. Gina had introduced us all, but the other girls gave us a chilly reception as we joined them. Apparently, wearing a V necklace was sort of a big deal. Everyone knew we were virgins and that we’d receive a huge bonus from platinum-level members.

“Nice of you to make it.” One of the nearby girls sniffed. She stuck her nose up in the air. “Guess you have to ride the service elevator with the riffraff.”

“Easy, tiger,” Macy said coolly. “Don’t want to get your panties in a knot right before you get banged by a billionaire.”

The girl sniffed again and went back to ignoring us.

After a chilly ride downstairs—both emotionally and physically—we landed at the basement level. Music throbbed from inside Club 444. I could feel it inside me, pulsing. For a moment, our group of girls gathered together. Virgins and non-virgins alike, our nerves were palatable. I couldn’t believe I was doing this—and I didn’t even know for sure what I was doing. Not yet.

The service entrance was at the rear of the club, so the girls could come and go out of sight of the patrons. There were changing rooms, bathrooms, offices, and a small kitchen. It all seemed so normal. But as I peeked through the back door to the club, I felt like Alice in Wonderland when she fell down the rabbit hole.

The lights were dim but bright enough to notice details. There were men—wearing expensive, well-fitting suits—everywhere. They sat on the leather couches, they hulked by the bar, they swirled top-shelf bourbon in their rocks glasses, all the while waiting. The club was fraught with a kinetic energy that seemed to pulse in time with the throbbing, pulsating music. There were already three girls out there, dancing onstage. They looked like they knew what they were doing. Several men sat nearby, watching them hungrily.

I spotted Gina by the main entrance. The Madam was surrounded by a group of well-dressed patrons and was talking animatedly with them.

Macy reached for my hand and squeezed it. “We’ve got this, Faith. Remember what Gina told us to do—get out there and circulate. C’mon, let me buy you a free drink.”

“Actually, I don’t drink,” I admitted.

Macy rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Then I’ll buy you a free Shirley Temple. Let’s do this.” She winked at the girl who’d snubbed us upstairs. “See you in there. I’m rooting for you—I hope you get a hot one.”

Macy was hard to dislike; the girl managed a small smile. “Thanks.”

I clutched Macy’s hand as she dragged me through the doors of Club 444.

We headed straight for the bar. The bartender was an enormous older man with hulking shoulders, a big gray beard, and tattoos on the back of his knuckles that spelled PEACE. He looked like a retired linebacker, mixed with Santa Claus, who had somehow found himself behind a bar.

“I’d like a white wine spritzer and a Shirley Temple,” Macy said politely.

The bartender smiled at us, revealing beautiful, even white teeth. “You can have whatever you want,” he said kindly. “My name’s Beau. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. And if anybody gives you any trouble, you come and see me.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Beau. Thank you.”

“You got it.” He went and poured our drinks.

Almost immediately, two men approached us. They were both handsome and well-dressed in immaculate custom suits. Each of them wore huge designer watches. They were so good-looking and elegant that they were almost indistinguishable from each other; the only way I could tell them apart was because one had dark hair, and one was blond.

“Hello,” the blond man said. He gave us an easy smile. “I’m Darren Payne. This is my friend Elias. We just wanted to come over and introduce ourselves.”

“I’m Macy. It’s nice to meet you, Darren,” Macy said, fluttering her eyelashes at him. “Elias.” She shook both their hands, and then they turned eagerly to me.

“I’m Faith,” I said, forcing myself to smile. I shook their hands robotically, grateful when Beau, the bartender, interrupted us by delivering our drinks.

Darren’s hungry gaze flicked over Macy’s necklace, then mine. “I see you’re both platinum-level,” he said.

“That’s a polite way to put it.” Macy grinned up at him.

Elias leaned closer, his eyes fixated on Macy’s. “Not to cut in front of my friend, here, but Macy—you’re gorgeous. Where are you from?”

Darren laughed and shook his head as Elias snaked past him, inserting himself at Macy’s side. They got closer, immediately flirting and chatting. Within a minute, Macy had Elias laughing, and I envied her easy charm and warmth.

“I’m not sorry he cut me,” Darren said smoothly. He moved closer. “Because I happen to think you’re gorgeous.”

“Oh,” I said, nervously gripping my drink. “Thank you... Sir.” Was I supposed to call all the patrons that?

“Ooh, you called me ‘Sir’? That’s so hot, babe.” Darren snaked his hand around my waist and pulled me against him. He was already rock-hard, which shocked me. But I guess a bunch of super-hot girls running around in lingerie in a private billionaire’s club would do that to you…

“I think you might make a platinum-level member out of me,” Darren growled, his hot breath on my cheek. He ground his erection against my side. “I wasn’t planning on shelling out another ten million for a piece of ass, but now that I’ve seen you, I’ve got to have you.”

“That’s so… nice… of you,” I stammered, even though it didn’t seem very nice at all.

“Excuse me, Mr. Payne,” interrupted a silky voice.

Gina appeared at our side with a girl in tow, Mia, another one of the virgins. Mia was tall and slender, with inexplicably large, exquisite breasts and an aspirational, perfectly round ass. Darren didn’t bother to take his arm off me as he checked Mia out from head to toe.

“I’m so sorry, but another patron just purchased platinum rights to Faith. I have to deliver her to a private room,” Gina explained, voice soothing. “So I wanted to introduce you to Mia. Mia, this is Darren Payne, one of our founding members. Darren, this is Mia. I’m sure you two will have a lot to talk about.”

Gina motioned for me, and I practically ran to her side.

Mia, who seemed self-possessed and confident, immediately took my place. She inserted herself next to Darren Payne and smiled up at him. For his part, he looked like the cat who just ate the canary. Agog with Mia in her red lace lingerie, he didn’t give me a backward glance as Gina towed me away.

The Madam pulled me into a shadowy corner of the club. “That was a close one,” she said.

“You’re telling me.” I downed the rest of my Shirley Temple.

Gina eyed me. “Are you drunk, Faith?”

“No—that was a mock-tail. I don’t drink.”

She nodded. “Good. Because neither does your benefactor.”

I stared at the Madam. She wore a silver sequined gown that showcased her curves; her dark waves cascaded over her shoulders. “I have a benefactor? You weren’t kidding about that?”

Gina shook her head. “Of course not. I’m supposed to bring you to him shortly. But let’s stay here for a moment, shall we? I need to make sure everything’s running smoothly before I deliver you.”

Because I’d been immediately pounced on by Darren, I hadn’t even had time to observe the club. First, I checked on Macy—she already had a fresh white wine spritzer in her hand, and she was smiling as she stared up at the handsome Elias. They seemed enamored of each other.

Darren had quickly moved on to the gorgeous Mia. He had his hand cupping her ass, mesmerized, as she whispered in his ear. She rubbed suggestively up against him. Mia would be a multi-millionaire within the hour, I could tell.

At the center of the room, the three dancers had been joined by two women who were twirling on the poles, performing acrobatic moves I couldn’t even pull off on level ground. I didn’t blame the throng of men who sat in the front of the stage and watched them, gobsmacked.

It was still early, but the drinks were flowing freely, and the music thrummed. Several girls were nestled against patrons on the couches; two were already sitting on patron’s laps.

“It just takes one couple to get the party started,” Gina said. She scanned the entire scene, taking everything in. “Once everyone finishes their second drink, it will begin.”

Just then, the music changed to a hardcore, thumping beat. The rear door of the club opened, and Tate strode through. I barely recognized her. She wore thigh-high black patent leather boots, a studded leather bustier and matching thong, and elbow-length black patent gloves. Tate wielded a large, thick black whip. Her long blond hair was loose and wild; her makeup was strong, with black eyeliner and crimson lips, making her look fierce.

She stalked down the center of the stage, then cracked her whip.

“Who’s been a bad boy?” Tate called gleefully.

The patrons erupted into cheers. Many of them raised their hands, calling, “Me! Me!”

“That’s our signal,” Gina said, urging me toward the private rooms. “I have to get back before all the penetration starts. And trust me, it’s going to start soon.”

Rendered speechless, I followed the Madam. Because really, what could I say to that?