I was extremely nervous as I crossed to Jeanest. And when I finally reached her, she grabbed my arm and led me into the living room where three men in costly suits and looking well into their forties, sat quietly, each sipping on a drink. Before I could begin to ingest what was going to become of me in that instant ’cause, and with Bree’s dilemma, it didn’t take a genius to figure out why these men were here, Jeanest instead interrupted my train of observation thus throwing me completely off guard.
“This is Diamond,” Jeanest introduced proudly, fluffing my pigtails as if I were her number one brothel girl. “She’s seventeen. She’s the only eldest girl I have on hand for tonight. I’m sure I can acquire a few more in the coming days – ”
“She’ll do,” one of the men said suddenly, settling his drink aside before giving Jeanest and me his undivided attention. “Will there be a room provided?” he then asked, leaving Jeanest to scrunch her forehead.
“This isn’t exactly a traditional brothel, Mr. Sims – ”
“Well, I’m looking to get traditionally laid, Miss Jeanest. I’m not here to participate aside your foolish kiddy orgies.”
“I conquer,” one of the other men contended, also settling his drink aside, placing one casual leg over another. “Mr. Parker should be embarrassed by his business tactics. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Jeanest cleared her throat. “I just work for Mr. Parker.”
“Well I’m sure your wage isn’t minimal, now is it?”
“No. It is not.”
“In fact, it’s very comfortable, wouldn’t you agree?” the man urged leaving Jeanest to purse her lips and nod. “So there is expense for rules to be bended. Yes? I mean, it’s not like Mr. Parker is living right across the street now, yes?”
Again, Jeanest cleared her throat. “Yes.” she said, and not to willingly.
“‘Yes’, to what?”
“I can bend the rules. And Mr. Parker is many miles away.”
“Glad we were able to come to an agreement. Sims, I have a New Year’s party to attend to with my wife in a couple of hours.”
“Mine is on vacation. I can wait.”
“Good.” said the casual man, rising casually from his seat. He then picked up his drink and casually crossed to me. He was tall, slightly built. And devilishly handsome. And like Marx, he, too, had a fire in his eyes and a hungered thirst lingering on his clean shaven face. “Shall we, Doll,” he then smiled leaving me to look to Jeanest for some kind of guidance.
Jeanest stiffened a smile and nodded sternly. “Show him to your room.”