Chapter 10
Zoya~
It was almost closing time, but I still felt shaken up.
Other than losing my rabid ass mind, I still had no idea what had made me challenge Kasimir Korolev like that, but I’d had, and I wouldn’t be surprised if a bullet was waiting for me at the end of my shift, and I’d consider myself lucky if that’s all it was.
Of course, I could easily blame it on the fight with my mother last night and how craptastic my life was right now, but neither of those reasons were good enough to antagonize a Korolev.
While I’d been brave enough to choose homelessness over Kasimir doing me any favors, I still didn’t want to die over how crappy my life was right now, that’s for sure.
“So, hear me out before you say no.”
Surprised, I turned to see Marcelle leaning up against the counter, her voice snapping me out of my thoughts.
She had the night off, and however she was spending her Wednesday night, she was dressed to kill, and I couldn’t imagine what she was doing here.
Plus, I must have really been deep in thought not to have heard the bell ring when she walked in.
“What?” I asked, a bit confused. “What are you talking about?”
“I know a way to make some really good money, and it’s an opportunity that can change our lives,” she went on, but even I knew that nothing good could come from easy money.
“What are you talking about, Marcelle?”
Then, I stood in stunned silence as Marcelle explained how she had signed up for an auction that guaranteed one night with a complete stranger for at least ten-thousand dollars.
She went on about how it might legally be prostitution, but that it really wasn’t.
She kept describing it as a financial opportunity to better our lives without actually having to resort to prostitution.
She also kept spotlighting how safe it was and how it really could change our lives.
When she was done, I could barely credit that she was really going to do it, and more importantly, that she wanted me to do it with her. I mean, while I wasn’t in the position to judge anyone for how they made ends meet, selling myself really hadn’t ever been a serious thought in my head.
Nonetheless, out of sheer curiosity, I still had questions. “How would that even work? You said that you have to sign up months in advance for the background check.”
“My friend Montana was going to do it with me, but she ended up getting drunk last weekend, and like an idiot, she was at a house party and decided to jump on a skateboard, and you can imagine the rest,” she sighed.
“In addition to a lot of scrapes and bruises, the damn girl broke her collar bone, so she can’t go tomorrow night. ”
“That still doesn’t explain how I’d take her place,” I replied.
“You guys look a lot alike,” she explained. “So, you can use her ID and the card that was issued when her application got approved.”
Now, while she had explained everything like it’d all been tied up neatly in a pretty bow, there was one glaring fault in her reasoning. “You said that the auction is sponsored by the Korolevs, Marcelle. How in the hell do you think they’d react to being tricked?”
“It’s sponsored by the Korolevs, but it’s being run by a woman named Stephanie Alvin,” she answered. “There won’t be any Korolevs around.”
I couldn’t lie and say that my heart wasn’t beating rapidly with the thought of making that kind of money for one night, but still. “Marcelle, no matter how many different ways you slice it, it’s prostitution.”
“All of dating is prostitution,” she countered.
“What in the hell are you talking about?”
“Have you ever gone home with a guy after a few drinks at a bar?” she asked. “Or after dinner and/or a movie?”
“Well, yeah...”
“Did he pay?” she asked pointedly, and it wasn’t hard to see where she was going with this.
“Because if he did, then what do you call that? The only difference is that, instead of giving it up for straight cash, you gave it up for a fifty-dollar bar tab or whatever the hell it costs to go to dinner and a movie these days,” she argued.
“So, why not give it up for a dollar amount that can actually improve your life, rather than give it up for a steak dinner that you’re going to forget in a week.
” She shrugged as she added, “No matter how you spin it, men pay for sex one way or the other, and women accept that payment as their due for how badly men want to get between their thighs. You can fool yourself into thinking that it’s not prostitution, but it is. It all is.”
Marcelle made it sound so cold, but it was still hard to argue her point when it rang of the truth.
Traditionally, men did pay for dates, and in a lot of cases, they were also the primary breadwinners in the home and were expected to carry that responsibility.
So, as I thought about it, I really didn’t have a counter argument to the points that she had just laid out.
“Be that as it may, how could you even think of doing anything sneaky in association with the name Korolev?” I asked.
She grimaced a bit. “The truth is that I don’t want to go by myself.”
“Then don’t go,” I told her.
“I can’t,” she quickly replied. “You can only sign up for the auction once, and if I back out now, then I’ll never be able to sign up again.
It really is a once-in-a-lifetime financial opportunity, and I will never get another chance to pocket this kind of money again.
” Marcelle reached over to squeeze my arm.
“C’mon, Zoya...don’t you want something more than this? ”
“Ten-thousand dollars isn’t enough to quit your job, Marcelle,” I pointed out.
“You’re right, it’s not,” she agreed. “However, even if I leave there with only the minimum, do you have any idea what ten-thousand dollars in my bank account could do for me? I’d no longer have to worry about my refrigerator dying on me, my car needing new tires, the price of gas kicking my ass...
name it. While I’d still have to work here, I wouldn’t have to work here, praying for payday to come early.
God, can you imagine living a life with no financial stress?
To actually have a significant safety net of money for emergencies?
What if I end up drunk on a skateboard like Montana?
I can’t afford not to work, and even if I did qualify for disability, I can’t afford that dead week before I’d get a check. Can you?”
“I just can’t justify trying to get one over on the Korolevs, Marcelle,” I told her honestly. “How does that not scare the hell out of you?”
“Because I’m confident that we can pull it off,” she replied. “Plus, you might not even have to do anything. If no one bids on you, then you get the full ten-thousand dollars along with being able to keep your dignity for one more night.”
I shook my head, though I couldn’t believe that I was actually considering it. “I don’t know, Marcelle. It’s just so...one night isn’t enough to give it serious consideration.”
She let out a sigh before saying, “Look, I know what I’m asking of you is big and...
well, yeah, it can be considered a bit dangerous when you consider who is behind the auction.
Still, the bidding maxes out at one-million dollars, Zoya.
After the Korolevs take their cut of thirty percent, that can leave you with seven-hundred-thousand flippin’ dollars, and you’re crazy if you think that amount of money isn’t life-changing. ”
“But-”
“It’s also tax-free,” she snorted.
“Marcelle, I just don’t know,” I repeated. “It’s just...I don’t know if I can have sex with someone so coldly. I mean...there has to be chemistry, don’t you think?”
“You want to talk about chemistry,” she huffed. “Well, being able to replace my windshield if it gets crack is what turns me on. Being able to replace the brake pads in my car turns me on. Being able to live without counting pennies in between paychecks is what turns me on, Zoya.”
She had a point.
“Okay...just...can you give me some time to think about it?” I asked, actually considering it when she kept laying out all the positives. I mean, it wasn’t like I was a virgin any-damn-way. It also wasn’t like I’d never had a one-night stand before, either.
“That’s fair,” she replied. “But I need to know by four tomorrow, so that I’ll have time to grab Montana’s ID from her.”
I nodded, my thoughts everywhere. “Yeah, of course.”
Marcelle grinned as she grabbed my arms, then leaned in to kiss me on the cheek theatrically, and I couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm.
For all that we led very different lives, she was so easily likeable, and if I had been in a position to have friends, I’d consider Marcelle to be one of them.
“Okay, I gotta go,” she said as she dropped her hands from my arms. “I’m meeting some friends at the club for a few drinks, and you’re more than welcome to join us after your shift.”
I couldn’t afford to.
I couldn’t afford to, and that’s when her talk about tires, refrigerators, and windshields hit me hard. I couldn’t even go out for drinks with people, and that’s when I realized that maybe pride and modesty had no place in my life any longer.