Page 20

EMMA

I t looks like a bomb went off inside the dressing room.

There's glitter on the countertops, wigs hanging from chairs, and sequin miniskirts on the floor.

"Is it just me, or does this look more chaotic than usual?" I ask, looking over at Gigi.

"It's definitely more chaotic than usual," she replies. "Mrs. Hendricks mentioned that the club is busier on the weekends, but this seems like a lot."

The twins join us. Ophelia is dressed in a bejeweled mesh top with nothing else underneath. She auditioned as one of the aerial silk dancers. She got the job immediately because she looks phenomenal on the silks. Her twin sister, Olivia, is working as a cocktail waitress.

"We missed you," Ophelia says, giving me a hug.

"I missed you guys, too," I reply.

"Something is different about you," she says, narrowing her eyes at me. "You're glowing."

"I just got hair and makeup done," I say, glancing over at myself in the mirror.

They use this glowy foundation that makes my skin look like it's made of millions of diamonds.

"No, no, it's not that," Ophelia says. "You have this glow that comes from within. Oh my God, are you pregnant?"

"What? No." Heat blooms on my cheeks.

"Now that you mention it, I see it too," Gigi says. "You are glowing."

"I see it too," Olivia pipes up.

My jaw drops. I can't believe even Olivia is taking their side.

"Does it have something to do with the hot older man you're spending so much time with?" Ophelia grins from ear to ear.

Heat swallows me whole.

"You guys are insane," I say. "Nothing is going on between Mr. Sinclair and me."

" Yet ," Gigi adds.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" I say.

" Very ," she replies.

"She's blushing so hard," Olivia comments.

"Stop picking on me. This isn't funny," I say, turning away from them.

Just as I do, someone knocks into me. Pain bursts in my right shoulder. It's one of the staff girls. She has her eyes glued to her iPad, and she's speaking rapidly into her AirPods.

Gigi grabs the woman's wrist before she can walk away.

"Hey, you bumped into my friend. Aren't you going to apologize?"

The woman blinks and pulls out one of her earphones.

"I'm so sorry," she says, looking at me. "I was just preoccupied?—"

Her eyes drop down to the rose quartz pendant I'm wearing. Her eyes widen before they flick over my face, cataloging my features.

"You're perfect," she says.

I take a step back.

"Mrs. Hendricks, I think I found someone," she says into her earphones.

A moment later, Mrs. Hendricks stands in front of me.

"Oh dear," she says. "I should have guessed. It makes sense now why he asked for someone who fits your exact description."

"What's going on?" I ask, shifting from one foot to another.

Electricity buzzes through my body, like it knows something my mind doesn't. I want to bolt, but I also want to hear what Mrs. Hendricks has to say.

She pulls me aside so we can speak in private.

"Do you remember when I told you that all of my girls have the freedom to choose who they want to spend the night with?" she asks.

"Yes," I say. "But what does that have to do with me?"

"I have a proposition for you," she says.

"What kind of proposition?" I ask hesitantly.

"There's a client. A very important one."

I shake my head, already uncomfortable with where this is headed.

"We talked about this," I say. "I don't want to be anything more than a cocktail waitress."

If I was having this conversation with anyone else, I would be panicking right now. But for some reason, I feel safe with Mrs. Hendricks. I know she won't make me do anything I'm not one hundred percent comfortable with.

"I think you're going to want to hear this out," she says.

I fold my arms in front of my chest as I wait for her to continue.

"He's one of my most important clients, and?—"

"I don't care how important he is," I say.

"Let me finish," she says softly.

I purse my lips.

"This client has never asked for a girl until now. He's never even so much as shown interest in one, but tonight, he asked for someone who looks exactly like you."

"I have brown hair, brown eyes, and a plain face," I say. "I'm sure you won't have trouble finding someone more suitable for the job."

"My darling, absolutely nothing about you is plain," she says. "And I've looked at the others. You're the only one who meets all the requirements."

I shake my head.

This is one line I refuse to cross.

Going ahead with this will lead me down a path I never signed up for. I'll become someone I won't even recognize.

"I'm not going to sell my virginity tonight, Mrs. Hendricks," I say.

It's the one thing in my life that completely belongs to me. When I finally do decide to have sex, I want it to be with someone I love. Not someone who paid for it.

I wrap my hand around the pendant sitting on my chest.

All of the girls at the club have different crystals that symbolize what they're into or what they have to offer. A list of all of these was mentioned in the contract.

Rose quartz - virgin

Orange calcite - soft BDSM

Red carnelian - all levels of BDSM

Green aventurine - voyeur

Yellow citrine - multiple partners

Black obsidian - dubious consent

A couple more kinks were included, but these are the most common ones. Some girls own multiple pendants that they switch out throughout the week. Even the waitresses are required to wear them because it adds to their sex appeal.

"This is made of rose quartz, right?" I ask, enveloping my hand over the pendant. "I was told that it stands for love. But over here, it stands for something else."

"It stands for innocence," Mrs. Hendricks says.

"I don't understand why we're still having this conversation," I say. "You told me that you wouldn't push me to?—"

"Because this client is a war veteran who detests physical touch."

My heart starts pounding in my ribcage.

A flush works its way up my body. The rose quartz pendant feels too cold against my heated flesh.

"You know who I'm talking about, don't you?" she asks.

"Mr. Sinclair is here?" I ask.

He never talked about it himself, but I heard stories that he was a high-ranking soldier once. I heard that he's never been the same since he returned.

"I'm not allowed to give out names, but you can see a photograph before deciding whether you want to spend the night with them." She opens her iPad to show me a photograph of Mr. Sinclair.

Seeing his photograph has a visceral effect on me. It feels like he's in the room with me, watching me with those piercing dark eyes.

"Is it enough to make you reconsider?" she asks.

I don't even know what to think. My mind reels with too many thoughts, and I don't know which one to focus on.

"What if I were to decline?" I say.

"Then I'll have to find another girl for him," she says.

Fire licks a nasty trail over my heart. I don't like the idea of him even looking at another woman.

"I'll do it." The words escape my lips before I can stop them.

"You're certain about this?" Mrs. Hendricks asks, raising her eyebrows.

I only know one thing for certain—for whatever reason, I detest the idea of him with anyone else. This possessiveness has sneaked up on me out of nowhere.

I think I have a major crush on my boss.

"Emma?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

"I'll do it," I repeat. "I'm certain."

"Very well then," she says. "He's waiting for you."

She leads me back toward the dressing room, where my friends are waiting for me with concerned expressions.

"I'll explain later," I say.

"No, explain now," Ophelia says, blocking my path. "What's going on?"

Mrs. Hendricks glances down at her watch.

"You have five minutes to make any final touch-ups," she informs me. "Caroline will be waiting for you outside to escort you to the room."

"What room?" Olivia gently tugs on my wrist until I look at her.

"I agreed to see a client," I say, taking a deep breath.

"On your first day?" Gigi asks.

"It's someone I know," I reply.

"Who could you possibly know?" Olivia asks.

I purse my lips. I've already said too much. Knowing these girls, it won't take them long to figure it out.

"It's Klaus Sinclair, isn't it?" Gigi asks.

My heart skips a beat when I hear his name out loud.

I try to keep a poker face, but they see right through me.

Each one of them has a different reaction. Gigi squeals and does a little shimmy. Olivia grins at me. Ophelia is the only one who looks worried for me.

"You need to be careful around that man," she says. "I heard some sick things about him."

"You need to stop believing every rumor you hear, Ophelia," her twin sister says.

"None of that matters. He's so hot and dreamy," Gigi says, clasping her hands together. "And Emma has been in love with him since the day they met."

"Oh my God, I never said that."

"You didn't have to," she says. "Your true feelings for him were written all over your face."

"I feel like I'm going to be sick," I say. "I've never done anything like this before. I don't know the first thing about seducing a man."

"First things first, are you sure you want to do this?" Olivia asks.

I nod. "Yes, I'm sure."

Gigi claps her hands together and glances down at my outfit. I'm wearing the same thing as everyone else—the tight corset top and short skirt.

"This won't do," she says, shaking her mane of red hair. She runs to the rack and quickly pulls out a dress. "If you're going to do this, you might as well do it right."

She holds the dress out in front of me.

It's a sexy backless number that leaves very little to the imagination.

"It's too much," I say.

"It's not enough," Gigi says, gesturing for me to strip.

She whistles when I slip into the dress she picked out for me.

"You look so hot right now," she says. "You're gonna give your man a heart attack."

"He's not my man," I whisper, smoothing my hands over the dress. It's surprisingly comfortable over my skin.

"High ponytail?" Olivia asks.

"High ponytail." Gigi nods, gathering my hair into a high ponytail before securing it. She pulls out some pieces to frame my face and slicks the rest of it back using a hair wax stick.

Ophelia disappears and returns with a small glass of water.

I take a grateful sip and instantly choke on it.

"What is this?" I ask, grimacing at the glass.

"It's diluted vodka," she says. "For the nerves."

"You could've warned me," I say.

"I was going to, but you—" She becomes quiet as I throw back the rest.

"And for the finishing touch," Gigi says, rubbing diamond dust eye shadow over my eyelids. It looks wet and shimmery on my skin, sparkling like water everywhere the light hits. Most of it will be hidden by the mask I'll be wearing, but it's still gorgeous.

"You're...a magician," I say to Gigi.

She grins. "I know."

Ophelia hands me another shot of vodka.

"For good luck," she says.

"I'm going to need all the luck I can get," I say, taking the second shot. The smooth burn makes my eyes sting.

There's a light buzz in my veins now. I honestly don't know if it's the alcohol or anxiety.

"You guys, what am I even doing?" I ask.

"Don't think too much about it," Ophelia says. "Just go with the flow."

"Easy for you to say. You're not about to give a lap dance to your boss," I say. "Also, how do I give a lap dance?"

"Honestly, I don't think you need to do anything except stand there," Olivia says. "He might get off just by looking at you in that dress."

"Who are you today?" I look at Olivia with wide eyes.

She winks at me.

When I first met her, she came off as shy and reserved. It's unexpected to see her mischievous side.

Ophelia grabs a long fur coat and helps me into it. I pull the lapels together just as Gigi shoves me toward the exit.

"Get it, girl," she says.

I find Mrs. Hendrick's assistant waiting outside the dressing room.

"Are you ready?" She smiles at me.

"Ready as I'll ever be," I reply, pulling my mask back into place.

There's a boldness inside me that wasn't there before.

It's like a match has been lit, throwing light at a space where there was once only darkness. I'm still basking in the glow.

It feels nice to be in the warmth of the fire.

But I also know that if I get too close to the flames, it will just as easily devour me whole.