Chapter Six
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Isabella
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"Oh, babe," Sam says.
She's such a great friend, arriving at my apartment for the second time that day, but this time bearing gifts of snacks.
"I'm screwed," I say, around the gooey caramel in my mouth.
"Well, that would be a good thing in your case," Sam says.
"Yeah, more like I'm unscrewed."
Sam agrees.
"Ugh. I need to come up with something," I cry, and then my brain churns. "Wait, remember when Brynna had her bachelorette party and there was this woman, the very mysterious one, and she gave a talk on how to seduce men?"
"Oh my gosh, yes. Um... Madame Something. Madame Celina."
At the time, Sam and I were only eighteen and couldn't stop giggling at the prosthetic dicks she brought with her, especially when she put them in her mouth to show the ladies how to suck a cock.
"She said she offered private sessions as well, didn't she?" I ask Sam.
But Sam was already on it. She had searched Madame Celina online and got all her contact info.
"I'm going to call her," I say, swallowing the last of my chocolate followed by a sip of soda.
Ten minutes later, Madame Celina agreed to see me immediately based on the urgent nature of my business.
Twenty minutes later, we were pulling up outside her little obscure shop with the words ‘Madame Celina, Temptress of the Night’ printed on the door.
Madame Celina looks suspiciously younger than what she says her age is.
Her skin is flawless. Her blue eyes are bright, and instead of walking, she floats.
Her dark blonde hair is done up into an intricate style, and the dress she is wearing, a neat shift one that hovers above her knees, accentuates her perfect figure.
She was an honest-to-goodness courtesan, was in much demand from men around the world, and no one knows that she could rock the entire planet with all the secrets she holds. She told us all that proudly as an introduction.
"All right. You are pretty enough. Good lips, eyes, hips, and breasts. This should be easy for you to do," she says, and I beam. Maybe all I needed was some expert guidance from a secret world-renowned courtesan.
"Let's get started."
She starts by instructing me to walk up and down the short aisle in her little shop.
"Shoulders back, chin slightly up, but not too intimidating.
Men are weak and don't like to be scared off when we need to get something from them.
Sway your hips gently. No. No. No. Why are you walking like a cowboy with a spur stuck in his ass?
" Madame Celina says, and both Sam and I break out into laughter.
She sighs and plants her hands on her hips. "The point is, if you want a man to notice you, you have to be alluring."
"I can do alluring," I say a little too eagerly.
"You absolutely cannot," she replies. "An alluring woman never says she's alluring. She simply is, by the way she breathes and moves."
"I mean..." I start to do damage control after my cowboy walk.
"Do hush."
She drags me in front of a mirror.
"Step one. Smile."
I smile.
"Goodness gracious. Do you want to crack my mirror and scare every man you meet?"
"What?"
"You look like you're planning his murder and are very happy about it."
"But that's my happy smile."
"It's the smile of a woman who adds arsenic to her lover's porridge."
I smile again, except this time my face has completely forgotten how to smile naturally, and now I look psychotic. Case in point, Madame Celina.
The woman winces, and so does Sam.
"You are trying too hard. Everything about a woman is natural. She doesn't try. She is."
Then clearly, I am not. Still, I try.
"Worse. Let's move on to the eyes. A smile lures the man in, but the eyes are the confessions of the soul and of the pussy."
"The pussy? As in a cat?"
Madame Celina sighs even harder this time, as if I'm her worst client yet.
"As in the vagina. How you look at a man portrays what is happening between your legs. If he is just a dear friend, there is trust. A stranger, neutrality. A man you want to have at your knees, feasting on my little kitty like he is starved beyond repair, you look at him so."
Madame Celina demonstrates, and I'm awed. How is it possible that she made her gaze look both sweet and sultry at the same time?
"Now you try it."
I do. I try very hard.
"Why are you squinting?"
"I'm not, I'm tempting him with my irises."
"You look like you're trying to identify a suspect."
I didn't mean to, but I involuntarily wiggle my eyebrows, and well, Madame Celina is one thread away from throwing in the whole towel. At me.
"I'm being mysterious," I protest.
"You look constipated. Men are not impossible to seduce.
It is one of the easiest things in the world.
The right smile and the perfectly angled gaze, and he will bring the world to your feet.
You, my dear, might get straw and a dead pig.
Show me the men you must seduce," she instructs in a commanding voice, and Sam jumps to attention, showing the older woman images of Lorenzo, Emilio, and Marcello from her phone.
"Yes, there is no hope for you with these three men," Madame Celina concludes.
"But I need to seduce them," I whimper.
"I meant there is no natural way for you to tempt these men." She sighs with failure and disappears behind the door of the cupboard she just opened.
"Here," she hands me a vial. "A potion that will speed things along. You could have the charm of a broomstick, but one drop of this and a man will become obsessed with you. That's going to be three thousand dollars."
"What?" I cry. I never had to think about money before, but according to my bank account, I only have five thousand dollars left, and Bobby Pearson assured me there'll be no more. It's not going to be long now before they seize my apartment, car, horse, everything.
"Two thousand nine hundred and forty dollars for emotional distress."
I begrudgingly hand over my credit card. I'm desperate. This is the only way.
Back in the car, Sam asks the billion-dollar question in a tentative voice. She knows me.
"Bell, who are you going to use it on?"
"All three of them," I say in a soft voice. "And then I'll see who sticks."
I just need one of them to marry me, I keep reminding myself.