Page 3 of Innocence Tamed
Another part told me this was madness. Complete madness.
And yet…
“Mademoiselle? You want something else?” The waiter’s voice startled me so badly I nearly dropped my phone.
“Non, merci,” I stammered, my practiced French almost deserting me in my panic.
He shrugged and moved away, leaving me alone with my impossible decision. I looked down at my phone again, at that innocent-looking button that would change everything.
Thirty days until deportation. No job. No prospects. No money.
I pressed before I could think anymore, squeezing my eyes shut as my finger made contact with the screen.
When I opened them again, the app was already downloading, the reddish-silverSApulsing on my screen as the installation completed. My heart was racing so fast I felt lightheaded. What had I just done?
The app opened automatically, its interface elegant and minimalist. A message appeared:
Welcome to Selecta Arrangements, Audrey. We’re delighted you’ve chosen to explore this opportunity. Before we can proceed with matching you with potential sponsors, our medical team needs to conduct a standard examination to verify your eligibility for the First Intimacy Premium Program.
Below the message was a scheduling calendar. To my surprise, there were appointments available as soon as today—one in just thirty minutes, in fact. The location pinged on the embedded map: Selecta France Headquarters. I zoomed out slightly and realized with a start that I was less than a ten-minute walk away.
It felt as if some invisible hand had guided all of this, making each step forward seem like the path of least resistance. The coincidence was eerie, but in my desperate state, it felt like fate.
I paid for my coffee with some of my dwindling cash and stepped back into the Parisian sunshine. The walk to Selecta HQ seemedboth endless and instantaneous, my mind racing with questions and doubts even as my feet carried me inexorably forward.
The building itself looked very imposing—a gleaming tower of glass and steel that reflected the clouds above, making it seem as if it extended infinitely into the sky. The corporate logo, that ubiquitous redSELECTA, crowned the structure, visible from blocks away.
I stood on the sidewalk across from the towering edifice, my stomach twisting with uncertainty. What was I doing? This wasn’t like me at all. I was the practical girl from Illinois who’d worked two jobs to put herself through community college, who’d created an energy conservation program that had caught the attention of international researchers. Not someone who signed up for… whatever this was.
Then again, I’d never been really desperate before.
CHAPTER 2
Audrey
Taking a deep breath, I crossed the street and approached the building’s entrance. The doors slid open silently, revealing a vast marble lobby with ceilings so high they seemed to disappear. The space was quiet; the business day had gotten underway on the many floors above my head. A massive sculpture dominated the center of the lobby—twisted metal forming what looked like a stylized human figure in a position my racing mind thought must represent surrender, or perhaps supplication.
I approached the security desk, a curved counter of gleaming black granite manned by a guard in a crisp red uniform. He looked up as I approached, his expression shifting subtly when he saw me. There was something in his eyes—recognition, or perhaps expectation—that made my skin prickle.
“I… I have an appointment,” I said, my voice coming out smaller than I intended.
Before I could elaborate or show him the app on my phone, he nodded. “SA medical screening, fifteenth floor.” His tone was matter-of-fact, as if young women came in for this sort of thing all day. Perhaps they did.
My face instantly flooded with heat. I could feel the blush spreading from my cheeks down my neck, and I fought the urge to turn and run. What did he know? How did he know it? Was I that obvious? Or was this really so routine?
“Um, yes,” I managed to stammer. “How did you?—”
“Elevator bank C, to your right,” he interrupted, handing me a visitor’s badge. His eyes flicked meaningfully toward a set of elevators across the lobby. “They’re expecting you.”
My fingers trembled as I clipped the badge to my blouse. The plastic felt cool against my skin, emblazoned with a temporary ID number rather than my name. I walked toward the elevators, acutely aware of my reflection in the mirrored walls, of how out of place I looked in my simple gray skirt and blue blouse among the sophisticated Parisians. My blonde hair, which I’d hastily pulled into a ponytail that morning, suddenly seemed childish.
The elevator doors opened the moment I pressed the button, as if they too had been waiting for me. I stepped inside an empty car lined with more mirrors and dark wood paneling. The button for the fifteenth floor was already illuminated. I pressed my back against the wall as the doors closed, enclosing me in the silent, upward-moving box.
Fifteen floors gave me too much time to think. What kind of medical exam would this be? Part of me didn’t even want to know. Another part kept saying,It can’t bethatkind. Can it?
The elevator doors opened with a soft chime to reveal a reception area unlike any doctor’s office I’d ever seen. The walls were a soft silver-gray, illuminated by recessed lighting that seemed to glow rather than shine. There were no medical posters, no health pamphlets—only a sleek desk of what looked like brushed steel, behind which sat a woman with immaculate dark hair pulled into a severe bun.
Unlike the lobby guard, the receptionist smiled—a practiced, professional curve of red lips that didn’t reach her eyes.
