Page 17 of Peasants and Kings
“She never told me,” I murmured in a daze. “Even when I asked her—I knew she wasn’t telling me the full truth but—”
“Of course she didn’t tell you the truth. She’s not allowed to. None of the girls are.”
Tiffany had sex for money.
My best friend, the only person in the entire world I fully trusted, had lied to me about what she did for a living and sent me into an ambush.
It all made sense; why she’d insisted on dressing me, doing my hair and makeup. She had groomed me so that when I met with Genevieve, I looked the part.
Looked the part of a high-end call girl.
The cage door of my emotions flung open and boiling hot rage poured through my blood. I stood slowly.
“You both must think I’m a world-class idiot,” I said, seething. “She let me come in here and all but beg for a job—any job—but apparently the only job I’m suited for is spreading my—”
“Sit down,” Genevieve commanded firmly, not bothering to rise from her seat.
I held her stare. The woman was cool and composed.
“Sit down,” she said again, this time more softly. “Or, walk out of here and take your chances trying to find someone who can do for you whatIcan do for you.”
Desperation bloomed in place of my animosity and I collected my emotions and bottled them. With a deep breath, I sat.
“Don’t blame Tiffany. She wasn’t allowed to prepare you. When I interview new girls, I need to see their true emotions when I explain what it is we do here. It tells me a lot about who they are, yourself included. If you’ll allow me, I’ll give you some more information, and then you can take your time and make a decision. You can leave anytime you want, Sterling. I won’t stop you or beg you to stay. I haven’t even technically offered you anything. But bear this in mind, if you do walk out of here, that’s it. You won’t be given another chance. Ever.”
“So, I have to decide if I want to do this before I leave your office?”
“You don’t even know whatthisis or what it entails.” She peered at me. “Besides, if anyone has the right to be upset right now it’s me.”
“You?”
“You can’t be that naive, can you? That story you told me, about your mother and the Foscari.” She shook her head. “I’m crazy to even entertain this meeting.”
I frowned. “Why are you, then?”
“Tiffany has never vouched for another girl. She’s never even asked me tomeetwith someone new.”
“That can’t be enough of a reason, can it? I mean, no matter how amazing of an…employee she is.”
She paused, her expression pensive. “I owe Tiffany a great debt. And in our world, you pay your debts. And that’s all I’ll say about it. But frankly, I’m not sure you’re cut out for this line of work. It takes a certain type of person to do this job—and I’m not just talking about the business transaction of sex. To be a Rex girl…it’s not just about being beautiful. Which you know you are. But so are many other girls. No, it’s about something more. Thatje ne sais quoi.”
She lifted the teacup and took a sip. “Our clients aren’t looking for normal women. Boring women. Stupid women. These are wealthy men, powerful and decisive. They’re the movers and shakers of the world. They thrive on success and challenges. They buy eight hundred-dollar bottles of Barolo they don’t even finish. They have private art collections that rival the world’s best museums and yet have never been seen by the public, and on and on. Why? Because theycan.”
Genevieve’s gaze scanned me from head to toe, cataloguing me again. “You’re hot headed and repulsed by what we do. It’s written all over your face. Girls like you normally don’t even make it through my front door.” She leaned toward me as if to ensure I didn’t miss what she said next. “But as I mentioned before, I owe Tiffany. You have bravado, I’ll give you that, but I can see the fear in your eyes. I’ll give you a new identity, but nothing in life is free. To earn it, you must become a Rex girl and have skin in the game.”
“I speak three languages fluently and—”
“Even better. Our clients are from all over the world.”
“No, I meant—”
“I know what you meant, but I don’t care,” she said, her tone hard as she interrupted me for a second time. “You want a regular job in an office cubicle. I’m not offering you that. You’d be wasted in an office. If you become a Rex girl, you’ll be given every luxury you can imagine by the men you spend time with. Gifts, jewelry, clothes. You’ll be able to travel and spend time on private estates. You’ll experience places that most of the population don’t even know exist as you see the world in first-class style. Are your morals so unwavering that you can’t be tempted by those things?”
“It’s not about morals.”
“It’s not? Then what’s the problem?”
My heart pounded so loudly in my ears that it drowned out everything else. I wasn’t sure why I was so shocked. My best friend had been doing this for years and seemed no worse for wear. Not only did she have every luxury she wanted, but she didn’t seem jaded. She didn’t seem…broken.
