Page 6 of Violent Hearts

Chapter 4

Ann

I'm still shaking when I'm finally called into Miss Barry’s office for my interview.

What was that all about? Who was that man? And why did he say that to me?

You have no idea how much money you could make with this.

Is he trying to entice me to become an escort because he’s interested in buying me?

That’s ridiculous, I think to myself, but the thought gives me an odd flush of heated embarrassment, anger and... something else. Something I can't quite put my finger on. It's a strange feeling, not as uncomfortable as the other two emotions, but not entirely pleasant either.

I'm nervous when Miss Barry shakes my hand and gestures for me to sit down, but it's not because of her. She looks like just the kind of person I would expect to see here. She's tall, probably about fifteen years older than me, and dressed to the nines. Her outfit and make-up have a burlesque touch to them. She's rather pale-complexioned, her lips dipped in a crimson shade of red that stands out against her light skin, as does the deep black mascara around her eyes and the equally dark hair. Her black blouse stretches around a pair of tits that are too big for her frame to be real. I'm sure she worked on the other end of the operation before switching to this administrative position.

"Can I offer you something to drink?" she asks, as I sit in a chair opposite her desk. "Water? Tea? Bourbon?"

I look at her, trying to figure out whether she was joking about that last suggestion. However, Miss Barry regards me with an expectant expression, cocking her head to the side awaiting my response.

"It's two in the afternoon," I say, bewildered.

She huffs and waves me off.

"Right," she says, rolling her eyes at me. "So, water then?"

I nod. "Water would be great, thank you."

Miss Barry walks over to a little bar table in the corner of her office where she pours a glass of water for me before pouring a tumbler of bourbon for herself.

"I'm sure you don't mind," she says, lifting her glass to her lips after placing the water in front of me.

I shake my head, feeling oddly belittled by the way she’s choosing to act around me. Miss Barry sits down sedately in her leather chair behind the desk. She casts me another one of those looks, as if I was a little child, someone she has trouble taking seriously. She sips at her drink and raises her eyebrows at me. "So?"

I recollect myself and hurry to gather my notes and take out my tiny recorder.

"Is it okay if I record this?" I ask, holding up the device.

Miss Barry nods. "Sure, dear."

I'm not sure how I feel about the way she addresses me, but I let it go. It's probably safe to assume that she's not used to talking to women who are not part of this world, women who are not cute little “honeys, bunnies and darling dolls” who live to serve the needs of kinky men. Men with very particular tastes, the kind of clients this agency caters to.

I know this is no ordinary escort agency. I’ve already uncovered enough details during my research to understand that the clients who frequent this place are not only insanely rich, but also come with twisted tastes. If they were just looking for a girl to accompany them to some kind of high class event, or to have a fancy dinner with them and then join them in their lavish hotel rooms, they wouldn't contact this agency.

The clients who turn to Violent Delights always seek something more, something special, something that has a much higher price tag than similar services offered from an ordinary escort service. And I'm curious to see how much Miss Barry is willing to reveal about these specialized and customized services, not to mention the outlandish prices the clients are willing to pay for them.

Miss Barry watches me calmly as I open my notes and set up the recorder. I can't help but notice that she's studying me similar to the way that man was earlier. Examining, considering, wondering - as if she's deliberating the possibility of convincing me to join her ranks.

I shake off the unpleasant thought and try to concentrate on the questions I have prepared for today. I begin the interview by confirming some of the information I've already gathered. This is standard procedure, and just like most people being interviewed, Miss Barry is cautious and reticent at first, but starts opening up after a few minutes, adding extra comments and anecdotes not directly related to the question being asked. As she becomes more talkative, my questions become more daring and are less directed at the business as a whole and the story behind Violent Delights, instead focusing on the areas that really interest me.

The clients and the girls they seek.

"Is there anything you can tell me about the way you acquire the girls working for you?" I ask. "How do you find them?"

Miss Barry looks at me with an amused expression and laughs.

"Oh, honey," she exclaims. "We don't find the girls. They find us!"

I cast her a quizzical look. "So they're just desperate and-"

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