Page 21 of The Lies of Bryn van Doren

She’s a fucking diamond—and Beatrice will agree.

“Hello?” Jessica answers,almost breathlessly. She clutches the phone to her ear with both hands, even though she can hear just fine. She hasn’t spoken to Stefano since the day before. The twenty-four hours she’s waited has done nothing to abate her nerves.

“I got you a meeting,” Stefano starts to say. “You’re to meet me out back in two hours.”

Jessica nods, despite his inability to see her do so, and mentally maps out how she’ll make it to Lower Manhattan in that specified time frame. She’s getting ready to verbally agree when her friend continues speaking.

“Listen—”

She canseehis face simplyhearingthe tone of his voice. He’s on edge, and Jessica knows it. Furthermore, she loves him for it. It would be a lie to say she hasn’t been on edge about this whole idea since the moment they left the diner a couple of nights ago. Even still, whatever hesitation he feels, she’s determined not to let it fill her with doubt.

Peering over her shoulder, she glances in the direction of the apartment’s only bedroom, where Beth is resting. It doesn’t matter how on edge Jessica might feel, she won’t back down. She can’t.

“If you’re really going to go through with this, I have one condition,” Stefano states, forcing his way back into her thoughts.

“What—what is it?” she stammers as she tries to refocus.

“Twice and you’re out,” he demands. “The first night will get you enough to settle what’s hanging over your head now. The second night will give you some cushion—enough for you to take the time to find a job that doesn’t involve you…”

Jessica closes her eyes in a long blink, shaking her head slightly as she reopens them. She can hear Stefano still talking in her ear, but she can’t comprehend what he’s saying. When she finds her own words, she interrupts as she mutters, “I’ll get that much?”

As far from naïve as she knows herself to be, she never imagined her cut would be as significant as Stefano seems to be implying. Well aware of the designer of his suit and the brand of his aftershave, Jessica has always been able to see how well Beatrice treats her staff—buttwo nights?

Speaking softly, she goes on to say, “I think you may underestimate my situation, Huey.Direabout—”

“Not all Johns are created equal, Jess; but I know the clientele. I know who has the deepest pockets.”

“We’re talkingthousandsof dollars,” she hisses, cupping her hand around the mouthpiece of her phone.

“Jessica.” The way Stefano utters her name, she understands he’s running short on patience. More than her awe in regard to the glimpse he’s given her into his world, he’s concerned about the condition he’s laid on the table. He confirms her suspicions when he repeats, “Twice and you’re out. Agreed?”

Jessica says nothing at first. Her silence isn’t a sign of her attempt to mull over his condition; rather, the thought of makingthatmuch money in only two nights makes it difficult for her to pull in a breath. Thehowmakes it difficult for her to exhale. Until the second her phone rang, everything she’s been contemplating the last couple of days has been little more than aplan.

For a second, she wonders if she can agree to his terms. Looking around the small box of an apartment she calls home, she can’t help but to imagine how much better off they might be if she could endure more than a couple nights…

Oh, god, she thinks, her stomach tightening when she realizes exactly what she’s entertaining.Do you hear yourself, right now? This is sex, we’re talking about—sex with only god knows who.

She swallows hard, grasping at the out Stefano is offering her. There’s something about hearing him put words to her future actions that causes her heart to thud loudly in trepidation. As confident as she is in her decision to follow through with her plan, she can’t overlook the truth. She has no idea what she’s really getting herself into. Even more, she prefers it that way. To think on it too much might lead her to change her mind, and she can’t afford to make that kind of mistake. There is comfort in knowing her best frienddoesknow what awaits, and he’s granting her just enough access to get what she needs and nothing more.

“Jess, I’m not fucking around here. You get in and you get out. This is temporary. You promise me that, and I won’t walk right back into Bea’s office and tell her you’ve had a change of heart.”

“Fine,” she whispers. Closing her eyes, she shakes her head and forces in a deep inhale. As she blows out a sigh, she nods and says, “Twice and then I’m out.” After she says the words, she becomes cognizant of the relief she feels at the prospect of such a short commitment.

“Great.” Stefano’s tone is drenched in sarcasm, causing a small smile to play at the side of Jessica’s mouth. She knows, even though he has offered his help under strict conditions, he doesn’t want her doing it at all. His awareness of her stubborn nature is the only reason they’re having this conversation—and for that, she can’t help but to love him a little more.

“Huey?” she calls out softly. He doesn’t respond, but she doesn’t need him to. “Thank you.”

“Don’t. Don’t thank me for this.Notthis.”

Her small smile fades, and she offers him another nod he can’t see. Staring down into her lap, her heartbeat now pounds with a measure of fear. He loves her too much to let her walk into this without him, but the thought of him looking at her differently after is a possibility she hasn’t considered until now.

“Huey…”

“I know,” he responds gently. “I’ll see you in two hours. Don’t be late.”

He hangs up before she can even say goodbye, but she doesn’t hold it against him. She forces in another round of deep breaths before she starts to get ready. An hour later, she’s quietly slipping out the front door in a black bodycon halter dress, her hair falling in big curls down her back. Her makeup is darker than she’d usually wear for an ordinary job interview, and the hem of her dress a whole lot shorter. She’s not thrilled about catching the R-train during rush hour dressed the way she is, let alone explain herself to her mother. She skips the latter and forces herself to get over the former.

After checking her bag for the heels she plans on changing into upon reaching Clandestine’s, she takes one final glance at her front door and then starts for the subway. Along the way, she slips her earbuds in and tries to lose herself in music. At first, she’s hardly conscious of what she’s listening to, too consumed with thoughts of where she’s going and why. When she goes through the motions of transferring lines, boarding the N train as routinely as any native New Yorker, it’s not long before the speed at which she travels out-races her thoughts. She lets them go, closing her eyes as she seeps so far into the melody of the song in her ears, all she can feel is the rhythm beneath the lyrics.

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