Chapter 11 Eden
Eden
Juggling two boyfriends at once was not the easiest task in the world, even for unemployed Eden, who spent half her days with one of them and the other half recuperating by herself.
A couple of times, she met up with friends, including Blair, who invited her out to late lunches when she was in town to work.
“Tell me what you do again?” Eden asked over soup and salad in a hoity-toity place called Bell Jar’s.
She couldn’t take her eyes off the cut of Blair’s jeans and the baggy T-shirt that made her look so effortlessly gorgeous.
This restaurant was not a jeans and T-shirt place, yet Blair had sauntered in as if she had slept with half the management.
Close. The whole building was owned by the family that owned The Dark Hour and had a giant stake in La Mariposa.
Half the management had seen Blair naked at least once.
If she wanted to gallivant in jeans and a designer T-shirt, she damn well could.
She probably gets a discount! Was Blair poor again?
Eden couldn’t quite tell. The woman made money hand over fist, but still had to work for a living and definitely related more to the working-class crowd than the richie-riches.
Which made Eden’s question even more pertinent.
What the hell does she do outside of performing and camming?
What made her come into the downtown core to work at the end of the week?
“I work up the street at a place called Le Salon,” Blair said while checking something on her phone.
“It’s a hostess club. Honestly, you could probably make a killing there.
I could get you on the list for when an opening comes up.
I’ve been there the longest out of some of them, so believe me when I say turnover is easily a few months to a year.
Girls make their bags and leave, or they move on to other sex-work adjacent stuff. ”
“It’s sex-work?”
“I mean, nothing like what you just did, girl.” Blair chuckled as she put her phone back in her bag.
The waiter came over with a shy look on his face as she tossed her bleach-blond locks over her shoulder and smiled at him as if it were second-nature by now.
She left him a wink as he walked away. “God, look at me, I can’t turn it off.
I don’t even sleep with guys, but I know where most of my income comes from. ”
“So, what is it?”
“It’s a hostess club,” Blair repeated. “You dress sexy and entertain guests all night in a sultry lounge setting.” She rolled her eyes as she picked at her salad.
“And get them to buy as many drinks as you can, because that’s where the real money is.
Like, they pay for their appointment with you, right?
But if you can get them to buy booze or keep a bottle of something expensive at the bar, you get a big cut of that.
It’s how the lounge makes most of its money. ”
“Interesting. So, no actual sex?”
“Girl, they can’t even touch you. Your job is to pretend to be their girlfriend through giggling and flirting. Or be an ear for them to trauma dump to. It’s like a therapist with tips.”
“And booze.”
“Exactly.”
Eden contemplated that for exactly one second. “Maybe I’d like to get on that list. By the time something opens up, I might need a job.”
“Haven’t you figured out what you want to do yet?”
“I’m just now figuring out what to do with that money.
” She had paid off the rest of her lease and paid off her phone and smaller credit card bills, but that still left about eighty grand.
As tempting as it was to pay off her student loans, too, her new financial advisor at Ike & Sons convinced her to hold on to that debt for now because her interest rate was so low for her age.
I mean, I do need something on my credit…
Their next appointment would go over her investment options, but that wasn’t for another week. “I’ve gotta keep my options open.”
“Well, your having been a Butterfly and having my recommendation will get you an interview, at least.”
Blair was a font of information, and not just about making money.
She offered to introduce Eden to a group of friends who spent most of their days lounging around “being hot” because their partners were loaded.
Only a couple, like Blair, actually worked for money.
“You’ve got the fallen heiresses like my girlfriend,” Blair explained, “and girls who have done sex work but don’t anymore.
Then there are the total, absolute sluts.
” She said that with a lowered voice. “There’s this one insufferable girl named Helena who has somehow gotten into the group.
I mean, I don’t want her going anywhere because she’s an amazing trainwreck, but ten minutes with her and you’ll realize how well-adjusted you are.
She’s pissed that her girlfriend won’t let her be a Butterfly for a weekend. ”
“There’s a lot about what you just said that I need to take in. Also,” she squared her shoulders, projecting confidence she didn’t quite have, “what’s wrong with sluts? I’m a total slut.”
“There’s a difference between liking being called a slut, hon, and actually walking the walk. Oh, and Helena’s still too young to be a Butterfly. She lied about her age to get her girlfriend. Real class act.”
“Tell me more, please.”
Toward the end of their meal, Eden looked up and recognized one of her boyfriends entering the restaurant with two other men. When their eyes locked, Benson almost tripped over himself before coming over.
“Whoa,” Blair whistled. “It really is him.”
Benson faced Eden, who opened her arms for a hug, but only had eyes for Blair’s roots. “Have we met?”
“La Mariposa, bro.”
He stiffened beneath Eden’s embrace. “She was in black,” she reassured her boyfriend.
“If you hang out at The Dark Hour, though, you’ve still probably seen me naked.”
“Blair!” Eden cried, slightly scandalized. “This is my boyfriend.”
“Nothing’s sacred.” Blair flashed her stomach at them both. “Especially these bad girls.”
“You have eccentric friends,” Benson said, rubbing Eden’s back before shifting his coat from one arm to the other. “Anyway, what a surprise seeing you here. I won’t keep you. I’ve got a business lunch in one of the rooms in the back.”
Two older men shuffled by, both peering over Benson’s shoulder at the two young women giggling and clattering metal utensils against porcelain dishes. “Friends of your daughter, Ben?” one asked.
“Oliver.” Benson moved to the side so he could introduce his business partners to Eden. “This is Eden. You remember her.”
He was slightly embarrassed to say he did. It was the other man who lingered behind. “Pleasure,” Desmond said, before glancing at Blair. “Uh…”
She clicked her tongue and fired a finger gun at him. “Your wife’s birthday party, my dude. I was one half of the entertainment.”
A man had never hurried away so quickly.
“What the hell have I gotten myself into?” Benson asked.
“His wife’s birthday party, huh?”
“Melissa Lark,” Blair mouthed. “Big ol’ bisexual.”
“Is that so?” Eden asked her boyfriend. “Did you just learn something about your business partner’s wife?”
“It’s hardly a secret. Anyway, I must be going. Damage control, apparently.” When he hesitated saying goodbye to Blair, she reminded him of her name, and he courteously shook her hand before sneaking into a back room.
“Oh, my God,” Eden said, elbows hitting the table as she hid her face behind her hand. “What was that?”
“Welcome to our world, babe.” Blair twiddled her fingers at the shy waiter, who looked like he was two minutes away from asking her out – and surely getting shot down. “Ride it while you can.”
Eden wouldn’t disagree with that.
“How do I not remember this woman?” Liam tossed his cider can into the recycling bin. Before Eden could chastise him for missing, she realized that he had made it in. “She sounds like a hoot. Introduce me. In fact, introduce me to all your friends.”
They sat on her loveseat in her cozy studio apartment, Liam sitting on one side while Eden lay across it with her feet in his lap.
They had shared a cider from her fridge after getting back from a dinner of food truck tacos.
I’d love to see Ben eat at a food truck quarter.
She could almost picture it – but only if he rolled up his sleeves.
“You two would be dangerous,” she said, referring to Blair. “She’d spend the whole time flirting with you, but wouldn’t mean a word of it.”
“Or, from the sounds of it, she’d spend the whole time roasting the shit out of me.”
“Sounds like you’re into that idea.”
“My girlfriend should have friends willing to take her boyfriend down a couple of pegs. Keeps us dudes humble.”
“Does it?”
“You have no idea.”
She pressed her finger into his arm. “Are you my boyfriend?”
“God, I sure hope so.” He squeezed her ankle. “I don’t care how many you have, as long as I’m at the top of the list for primo dates.”
“Of course you are. How many men do you think I’m dating?”
“Knowing you, love? At least five.”
She gasped. “Just two!”
“Including me?”
“Including you!”
“Uh-huh. So, how is this other guy treating you, huh?” He patted her shin. Eden had made the right choice wearing a skirt that day, even if it was cold outside. His skin on mine? Perfect. Even in the most innocent way. “He better be treating my baby right.”
“Oh, so I’m your baby?” When that only got her a waggle of the eyebrows, she was inclined to say, “I have no complaints. He’s a lot more mature than you, for one thing.”
“Ouch.”
“Much more settled in his life. Talking about retirement.”
“Jesus, how much older is he than me?”
“Mm. About ten years, give or take.”
“Take what? Another decade?”
Eden laughed.
“You’re telling me that the other man who gets to see you bounce on his dick is old enough to be your father?”
“Don’t put it that way! Besides, how old did you think he was?”
“I dunno. My age? Give or take a cycle through high school?”