Page 37 of Depraved Desires

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Aspen

When I made it to the club, my mind was still reeling from what Rocky had told me merely an hour ago. Hunter wasn’t as fearless as he pretended to be, and I planned on using that to my advantage. All of the guys had put me through hell in different ways, but Hunter and Foster took the cake and deserved to suffer more than the other two. Sure, Myles has been a thorn in my fucking side for years, but somehow, that felt minuscule compared to what the cheater and virgin did. I snorted at the irony of them being complete opposites in nature. One was a degrading prick who refused to get his dick wet, while the other couldn’t keep it in his pants. Regardless, they’d all pay in some way or other.

After checking in at the front desk, I was directed to Talissa’s office once again. The last time I’d been here was hell to say the least, and I was afraid of what I might walk in on this time.

Knocking on the door, it swung open moments later. A rather large man stood in the doorway—the same one I’d seen last time. I vaguely remembered that his name was Carlos, and he didn’t speak much. Mostly just nodded, grunted, and glared.

“Oh, Aspen, please do come in,” Talissa’s voice rang out across the room. This time, she was seated behind her desk instead of on top of it.

Sidestepping the giant gang banger, I slipped into the room. Being around him seemed to put me at unease, forcing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. Subconsciously, my body didn’t trust him, so I didn’t either. A breath of relief whooshed out of me when he exited the room, leaving me and Talissa alone.

I crossed the room in a few long strides, halting once I reached her desk. Her gaze roamed over my outfit appreciatively, and a sense of warmth filled me at her approval. Why I even gave a shit about that was beyond me.

“You look gorgeous,” she praised, her smile lighting up the room. “Please, sit.”

I slipped into the chair nearest to me and directed my attention toward her. To say I was nervous would be an understatement. Within the last two months I’d been put through hell and wasn’t sure if this would stunt my healing process or help move it along faster. I suppose it could go either way.

Talissa reached into a drawer and retrieved a few packets that had been stapled together. Laying them out onto the desk, she turned them, so they were positioned before me, giving me easy access to look over them.

“I already highlighted where you’ll need to sign and date,” she explained, setting a pen down. “Basically, you’ll read over the rules and agree to them by signing, and everything else just states that we won’t be held liable if you’re harmed or contract any type of disease. Protection is up to our girls to enforce. You’re not allowed to turn down paying clients unless they force themselves on you, physically harm you, or are too intoxicated to form sentences.”

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I nodded. That seemed fair enough. I’ve never done anything like this and knew that prostitution wasn’t even legal here, so I didn’t have anything to compare it to. Taking the pen between my fingers, I glanced down at the first page, skimming over it briefly. Realizing that it was the ‘rules and regulations’ page, I paused and re-read it more carefully.

Rule 1: Employee must have good hygiene, always wear makeup, keep hair styled, and is responsible for her own outfits.

Rule 2: Employee will not turn down paying customers unless they are a serious threat to them, or to themselves.

Rule 3: We are not held liable if our staff contracts any sort of disease while employed here, considering that it’s the employee’s responsibility to enforce protection and boundaries.

Rule 4: No phones are permitted on the floor due to guest confidentiality.

Rule 5: If you have to leave work before your scheduled shift is over, you must pay a $1000 fee to make up for the losses.

Rule 6: Drama will not be tolerated. Do not bring your boyfriend into the club and try to get along with the other workers.

Rule 7: If you borrow an outfit from us, it must be returned by the end of the night. Otherwise, you will have to pay for it.

Blowing out a breath, I signed at the bottom of the page and wrote down the date. Some of these rules were insane, but it could be worse. A few rules weren’t going to deter me from the money that was offered. It was way too good to pass up.

Flipping onto the next page, I skimmed it before signing at the bottom of that one too. When finished, I sat the pen down and leaned back in my seat. Talissa was scrolling on her phone—the newest model that Apple had to offer. Once realizing I was done, she placed it face-down on the wooden desk and collected the papers.

Pursing her lips, she went over the packet, ensuring I’d done what was required. As she did that, my mind wandered as I lost myself to my thoughts. Tonight was nerve-wracking to say the least, knowing I’d not only be dancing in front of strange men but had to allow them to touch me too. A grimace captured my features as I processed that, but internally reminded myself of all the money I’d potentially make, and that felt worth it.

“Everything looks good,” she finally said, slicing through my internal turmoil. “Did you bring your ID?”

I nodded, fishing my hand in the top of my dress and retrieving the small, rectangular card from my bra. The foster family I went to after the one housing Myles, got me one and Natalie helped me get it reinstated once it expired. That’s one good thing that came out of foster care. Placing the card on the table in front of her, she picked it up, skimming over it briefly.

“Let me just go make a copy of this and then we’ll get you all set up.” She smiled, rising to her feet.

Placing my hands in my lap, my fingers twitched. I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. Then again, it wasn’t like it mattered. I’d never had very high morals to begin with. I just needed to keep reminding myself that this was for the best and that it was probably the only chance I had at getting back to Avery.

My gaze roamed around the office, taking in every intricate detail of the interior. A couch—the same couch Rocky had been screwing that girl on—sat against the back wall making me grimace from the memory. Heat flooded my veins followed by guilt. I knew I was overreacting. Rocky was my friend, nothing more. Shaking off the unwanted feelings, my eyes darted to a couple of photos hanging on the wall, protected by expensive glass frames. Three wilting flowers stood side by side, their petals dropping to the ground that housed them, making me wonder if this was an analogy of sorts.

Why are there three?

Snorting at my ridiculousness, I pulled my gaze from the photo. It was just a stupid picture. The mahogany desk I sat before was massive with a polish to it that indicated it must have cost a fortune.

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