Chapter 8
Club Annex, Location Unknown
An enormous floor-to-ceiling mirror hangs before me, identical to several others covering the walls in this elegantly decorated room.
Its ornate frame is carved to resemble a mystical portal, as if a fairyland rests beyond the glass.
I can almost believe it, looking at my reflection and hardly recognizing myself.
My hand drifts to the glossy surface. If I touch it, will it give way?
Will it ripple with magic, allowing me to slip through? To escape?
“So…I’ve pretty much given you the whole spiel about the rules,” Maggie, Rina’s cousin and the head hostess at the Annex, says while lacing up the back of my dress. “Just remember to smile. Your guest should feel like you’re enjoying their company, too.”
“Got it,” I choke out.
After waiting for almost two months, I finally got the call.
The call where Maggie told me she’d successfully persuaded her superiors to offer me a position at the exclusive gentlemen’s club.
But when my phone rang this morning, I almost declined.
Almost. Playing “hostess” to the whims of the wealthy and depraved isn’t something I ever thought I’d do with my life.
But I can’t let my mom die without trying to save her.
She won’t even consider adding her name to the transplant list because we can’t afford it.
As it is, we’re barely keeping up with minimum payments on her medical bills.
Maggie’s call came through just minutes after Mom shut down yet another protest from me.
She’s done with treatments. Given up. But I can’t.
“Try to look a bit less terrified,” Maggie continues.
“Your role is to make your guest feel welcome and taken care of. He’s at the Annex because it offers something he can’t get at home or anywhere else.
As a hostess, you are there to cater to his desires, whatever they may be.
And some men’s tastes can be…eccentric. So be prepared. ”
My frantic gaze flies to Maggie’s in the mirror. “You said they won’t expect anything…sexual…from me.”
“And I meant it. There are plenty of other places where these guys can get laid. And it won’t cost them nearly as much as the ten grand per night plus membership fee they pay here,” she says.
“However, if you’re willing to go that far, don’t let it stop you, girl.
You’ll definitely see your guest’s appreciation reflected inside the gratuity envelope at the end of the evening. ”
“What did you mean by ‘eccentric’?”
“One of mine,” Rina, who is getting ready beside me, butts in, “asked me to take off my shoes and spent almost two hours rubbing my toes.” She shudders while slipping on her earring.
“That’s…weird.”
“You think that’s weird?” Rina goes on. “A few weeks ago, another guest had me remove my blindfold and demanded I read Romeo and Juliet to him, in a British accent.”
I swallow. Toe-rubbing and reading Shakespeare doesn’t sound so bad, all things considered.
Nevertheless, it doesn’t make me feel less terrified at the moment.
I look around the room. There are seven other women getting ready in front of their own mirrors.
I can’t even imagine what sort of odd things they’ve all had to endure.
“Oh, that’s another thing,” Maggie inserts.
“The blindfold can only be removed at a guest’s insistence.
This establishment is meticulously committed to protecting the guests’ anonymity and their privacy, Iris.
You break that rule, and you’re out. Immediately.
Don’t make me regret getting you this job.
” She finishes lacing the thin ribbons that crisscross my otherwise open back and takes a step back, inspecting her handiwork. “You’re good to go.”
My attention returns to my reflection. Is that really me?
From the front, my white silk dress is relatively modest, but only because it’s floor-length, features ultra sleek, fitted long sleeves, and the high neckline kiboshes even a hint of cleavage.
The fabric hugs each of my curves but leaves the back open, aside from the crossover lace-up detailing.
I finger the cuff of a sleeve, admiring the soft material.
The dress is so light, I feel like I’m wearing a cloud.
It looks like something halfway between a simple wedding dress sheath and a whimsical nightgown, and it was waiting here for me, courtesy of Maggie, when I arrived. I’m sure it must have cost a fortune.
But I’m not the only one dressed as such. Every woman here is in the same dress, just of a different color. Rina’s is pale gold, and the girl next to her is in yellow. Like Maggie, two others are wearing orange. And the woman on my far left is wearing red. I’m the only one in white.
“Does the color of the dress mean something?” I ask.
“Of course. It lets the guest know the hostess’s standing, how open she is to fulfilling certain services, which, well…provides some guidance on how creative he can be. White means you are relatively new to our establishment and are still being introduced to the Annex framework.”
“What does red mean?”
“Sex, darling.” She winks.
I freeze. “I thought you said there’s no expectation of sex here.”
“Yes, yes. But as I said, we host guests with varied appetites. Most only seek to fulfill what I’d say are innocent fantasies.
Simply things these men are not comfortable doing at home with their wives, or their…
ah…long-term partners. I would not say their requests are of a sexual nature at all.
Others, however, do come here to fuck. Occasionally.
They expect the highest level of discretion, and they’re willing to pay astronomical money for that.
So, if you’re game, next time, ask to wear red. ”
Maggie ushers me toward a wooden door covered in intricate carvings. “Don’t fret. Your guest for tonight is not interested in any of that. Trust me. You’re safe with him.”
She leads me through a hallway where burgundy-painted walls are adorned with some kind of gothic-looking wooden wall panels.
Every few feet, vintage wrought iron sconces illuminate the way, casting their soft light onto an ornate burgundy carpet that muffles the sound of our heels.
The whole place has the ambience of a dark, nineteenth-century mansion.
“I know the first time can be scary. Rina nearly fled when she got here.” Maggie smiles as we approach the door at the end of the hallway. “But you’re in luck. You’re hosting a guest who is only interested in talking tonight.”
I rear back in shock. “He’s paying all that money just to chat? With me?”
Maggie stops before an elaborately decorated carved door with a black handle. A wide white silk scarf is tied to it in a bow.
“There’s really nothing comparable to the Annex. Whatever your guest leaves for you at the end of the evening is yours to keep. Also, he left instructions that you are the only one to speak tonight.”
She unties the scarf from the door.
“What…” I rasp, staring at the piece of white fabric in her hand. “What should I talk about?”
“He didn’t specify. So I guess you can say whatever comes to mind.
Tell him what you did today. Give him a list of your favorite movies, and describe what you liked about each one.
Hell, I don’t know… Tell him what you ate for lunch—just keep talking.
Keep him satisfied, and he’ll be good to you.
In your place, I wouldn’t even stop to take a breath.
Happy guests don’t skimp on the tip. Sometimes, they even leave presents.
Lylah’s guest left her a thousand bucks one time, and a pearl bracelet. ”
I gasp. A thousand dollars! In one night.
“Okay, now turn around.” She lifts the silk scarf in front of my face.
Worrying my lip, I do as I’m told. The soft material of the blindfold presses across my eyes.
My heart rate has been sky-high ever since a shiny gray car collected me from home this afternoon and brought me here.
I’m not even sure where “here” is. The car windows were blacked out, and the privacy divider between the back seat and the driver was raised, so I couldn’t see where we were headed.
It was quite a surprise when I exited the vehicle and was faced with a large colonial mansion surrounded by acres and acres of rugged landscape.
Now, though, the pounding of my heart has managed to reach an even higher rate.
Seconds from now, I’ll be dead. Just as soon as it punches through my chest.
Dear God, what have I gotten myself into?
Rina talked her head off to reassure me that anything the guest might ask of me here would be benign.
And I was desperate enough to believe her.
She said the men come to this place because they are rich but lonely.
That some are a little quirky but merely want to spend time with a girl who’d humor their odd but harmless requests.
She assured me that I would never be pressured into doing anything I didn’t want.
I wasn’t entirely convinced by that. Somehow, it all sounded too good to be true.
But it doesn’t matter. I have no other choice.
“That’s nice and tight. Let’s head inside.” The sound of the door opening almost makes me trip over my feet. “Watch your step, girly.”
My legs feel rubbery as I shuffle forward with tiny steps. The long skirt is making things more difficult, but at least it’s probably hiding the shaking. Goose bumps break out on my skin, from the base of my skull all the way to my toes.
“Here you go,” Maggie says, turning me around. “Have a seat on the sofa and make yourself comfortable.” She gives me a little shove until I sit down.
I practically collapse onto the soft cushion.
“Perfect.” She taps the back of my hand in a friendly gesture. “I’ll come back to collect you at the end of the evening.”