Chapter 26 You Were A Prostitute?!?
You Were A Prostitute?!?
Greer
The icing bag slips out of Cordelia’s fingers and plops into the sea of mini cakes she was decorating. “HE THOUGHT YOU WERE A PROSTITUTE? You, Greer Hestons, who has only ever kissed one man—and it’s debatable if he’s even considered a man—in your life, a prostitute?”
“Yup.”
“I don’t know whether to laugh, cry, or call Winnie.”
“Calling Winnie has run across my mind several times.”
“So, who did he think was paying you for sex? Does he know how much you’re worth? I mean, he couldn’t thinking that about you. But still, your mother would require a trillionaire to sully her pure daughter’s name.”
She’d probably settle for pimping me out to one, but she’d prefer that I married him. “Rothswyler.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Rothswyler?”
“Yes.”
“Has he ever had sex? I mean, it’s none of my business, but…I just can’t picture him doing something so undignified.”
“Please don’t. There’s no way I want to think of those two words in the same sentence.” Rothswyler is like an uncle to me. An old, stuffy uncle.
“Did your neighbor apologize, at least?”
“He tried to.” Though they felt like pathetic attempts.
“Tried?”
“I wasn’t in the mood to hear the sad attempts of him rationalizing his actions. He thought I was sleeping with Rothswyler for money and treated me rudely all this time because of it. I don’t need a man like that in my life.”
“You certainly don’t. You’ve had enough of jerks. Maybe you should move closer to me. We could probably persuade one of my neighbors to sell.”
Persuade means pay. And I don’t doubt Cordelia would do that for a second. “I like my house, and I’m not letting that man push me out of my own home.” Darrel did that.
Cordelia nods. “I still think we should tell Winnie. Maybe she’ll just rough him up a bit.”
“I never knew you were so bloodthirsty.”
Cordelia gets a wicked grin. “Who, me? So is there anything else going on in your life?” She glances down and gasps.
“Sorry about that.”
“It’s nothing that can’t be fixed.” Cordelia carefully reaches down and plucks the piping bag out of the mess, somehow avoiding getting anything on her gloves. But then Cordelia is one of those cooks whose kitchen is always clean, regardless of what she’s doing. “So?”
Do I tell her? It’s not really a job, but it sort of feels like one. “I got a job.”
“You? Greer Hestons got a job that might take money from someone who needs it.”
She knows me so well. “It’s more like volunteer work.”
“That makes more sense.”
“I’m planning a winter festival for the local biker gang.”
“They prefer motorcycle club.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that they’re a biker gang.”
Cordelia smiles. “No, it doesn’t. And they’re all pretty fine. Wait until you see Dylan’s guy. Her new husband is smoking hot. Though I think some of it is his beard. There’s something about a tattooed man with a beard.”
“Tell me all about him…”
***
Before I call Kia, I need to make sure that I have a space for her to perform. Even the park would work if we could gate it. People could spread blankets on the ground or bring lawn chairs to listen.
Time to go talk to the mayor of this small town and see what I can get done.
It shouldn’t surprise me that there is a motorcycle parked in front of City Hall.
It’s not a massive building, but it is ornate and stately. The building has to be at least a hundred years old. Somehow it fits so well with the quirkiness of this town.
Only in a small town can you walk in to talk to the mayor without having an appointment or needing to mention my family name.
Two minutes after I sit down in his waiting room, a big, burly man with a loosened tie steps out. “Welcome, Miss Hestons.” He ushers me into his office. “My secretary said something about you wanting to secure a space for a concert.”
“That’s right. It’s for the winter festival that’s being run by the motorcycle club the Children of Chaos.”
His eyes go wide. “You must be Bram’s woman.”
Is the whole town gossiping about us? It seems so.
“How big a venue do you need?”
From past events, they get about two thousand people attending this event, which seems good for a small town.
With a draw from surrounding areas, we’d probably be able to pull in double that.
“Space for several hundred. I was wondering if we could block off the park in the center of town for three days and use that?”
“Three days? The festival only lasts one afternoon.”
“We’d need to set up the stage and do sound checks.” Artists get picky without them.
“There’s already a stage in the park.”
“Kia likes to combine visual art with her music.”
“You got Kia to perform?”
“She isn’t signed yet, but I think she will if we can accommodate her.” I’m almost positive.
“Well then, let’s get that done. Is there anything else you might need for the festival?”
Do I try it? There will be a ton more work… “Are there any spaces that would work as a ballroom?”
He leans back in his chair, then snaps back up. “There actually is right here in City Hall. We use it for storage now. Why?”
“Could I reserve that for the entire weekend as well?”
“That’s going to take quite a bit of effort and your budget. Are you sure you want to?”
It won’t be coming out of the festival budget. “Absolutely, will cash work?” I set a stack of neatly wrapped bills.
The mayor looks at them and then back at me. “You’re paying in cash? We usually invoice the club.”
“We’re changing things up this year. Is that okay?” Don’t make me explain who I am.
“Fine. Anything for a brother. I’ll get everything taken care of and sent to Bram.”
I mentally shake my head but keep a smile on my face. “Thank you so very much. I appreciate all your help.”
“The club and the town appreciate your dedication to…um—” He coughs. “—the cause. I’m sure your efforts won’t go unnoticed.”
Hopefully they do, at least until I’m done. The good part is he’ll talk to Bram, who already knows some of my backstory…I might need to buy a less expensive purse, though. As soon as I start showing, I’m going to need a new wardrobe.
Am I ever going to start showing, or are you going to keep hiding in there until it’s time for you to pop out?
“Can I see the space? And do you have a floor plan so that I can start making arrangements?” My caterer is going to have fits when I ask him to travel all the way out here for a job.
That’s not going to stop him, but it’s going to make him grumpy and charge more.
“Sure, I can take you around now, if you’d like.”
“Thanks, that would be perfect.” I’ve done enough of these to be able to judge how many tables will fit in the space without the exact measurements.
City Hall doesn’t look large from the outside, but the mayor takes me down a series of long hallways until he stops at a set of French doors that are covered in white curtains that block the contents of the room from passersby.
He shuffles through his keys before unlocking the door. “This might not work because of all the stuff we have stored in here. It’s all event decorations for the city to use throughout the year.”
“That’s not a probl—”
The mayor pushes open the door.
Why? Why is this stunning room only used for storage?
The antique chandeliers are breathtaking.
We won’t even talk about what a crime it is that they have all this stuff stacked on top of stunning chevron wood floors.
He wasn’t kidding when he said it's packed.
This is going to take dozens of storage trucks to empty out.
“Is there anything else like this in town?”
“The high school gym is about it. Is it too much? I’m sure the brotherhood will step in to help get the stuff moved.”
Like I’d trust a biker gang with these floors.
My phone rings, and my mother’s name pops up on the screen. How did she get this number? When she wants my attention, she sends a message through Rothswyler.
A knot forms in the pit of my stomach. “Excuse me a moment. I need to take this.”
But I don’t want to answer. Whatever it is I’m about to hear is going to be devastating. I take a slow, deep breath and click through. “Hello, Mother.”
“Have you heard yet? Of course you haven’t. You live in that little hick town now. Your father hates that you’re hiding there.”
I’m not hiding, but Mother wouldn’t even hear the words if I said them.
“At least I get to be the one to tell you the best news. You can move back home now. They broke up.”
“Huh?”
“Don’t be dense. Darrel and that little tramp of his broke up. It turns out she was lying about the pregnancy, and he divorced her.”
Lying? She was lying?
“Now you don’t have to keep hiding from the shame. You can come back home and marry Darrel again. I’m sure when he finds out you’re pregnant, he’ll take you back.”
Shame? Take me back?
“I’ll call his mother to start planning the parties. It’s going to need to be something big and splashy to remove all doubt that he divorced you because he found you lacking. Isn’t this wonderful? I’ll call you back when I have details.” She clicks off.
What just happened?
“Are you okay?”
No. My mother lost her mind. She actually thought I was the reason that low-down, cheating jerk left.
Now isn’t the time or the place. I plaster a smile on my face and turn to him. “Just fine. Where were we?”