Three Simple Rules (Blindfold Club 1) - Page 12

“I did.” I didn’t want to explain, and thankfully Joseph produced a pen so I didn’t have to. I turned to the willing list and checked not one, but three more boxes. This wasn’t the tequila talking. This was my response to the man who had said he loved me not five minutes ago.

She gasped when she saw what I had done and then gave a wicked smile. “Aw, we’re going to be sorority sisters.”

I held my breath as Joseph evaluated the contract and waited to find out what the magic number was after the house took their cut.

“The best I can do is twenty percent to the club, and I’m sorry, that’s not negotiable.” Joseph pulled open a drawer in the desk and filed the contract. “And ten percent on top of it to Payton.”

“Forget it, I don’t need it,” she said immediately.

My heart sank. Even with Payton dropping her bonus, I’d need to get someone to agree to sleep with me for $12,000. It was so much money. Who would pay that?

She threaded her hand in mine and gave it a squeeze. “You can do this.”

There were four other women offering their services for the evening, and they’d all arrived by the time Payton and I entered the lounge. She introduced me to them, but I couldn’t focus and forgot their names immediately. They were stunningly beautiful and exotic like Payton. Was I there as some sort of twisted affirmative action? The token average girl in case a customer wanted a helping of that?

And while these women were friendly and pleasant, they were also my competition. I was so screwed in every sense of the word.

“It’s okay,” Payton said. She must have sensed I was mentally freaking out and eased me down onto a chair. “Let’s go over some of the code talk.”

“Code talk?” There was a red drink in my hand suddenly, delivered by a blonde woman who looked like she’d just stepped out of a magazine ad. I thought I’d already met all the other women, but she was new.

“That’s cranberry and vodka,” the woman said. “I’m Tara. I’ll be your sales assistant.”

“You?” I took a sip of the drink blindly. “They’re going to want to sleep with you rather than me.”

Payton gave me a tight look. “Tara’s the best at sales. I already told her where you need to get to.”

“I’m sorry,” I said to the mesmerizing blonde, trying to cal

m myself. “I’m really nervous.”

Tara sat beside me. “I’ve been there. You just have to let yourself enjoy it. There are plenty of women who would pay to have this happen to them. It’s a fantasy.”

I set the drink down on a nearby side table. I suddenly didn’t want any more alcohol in my system. I wanted to keep my wits about me. “Tell me about the code.”

“If I talk about the weather when a client first comes in, he’s average looking. If I talk about sports, he’s hot,” Tara said.

“And if he’s fugly,” Payton added, “she’ll talk about traffic.” Tara shot her a knowing look as if they shared an inside joke.

“But if I’m wearing a blindfold, why does it matter?”

Payton’s eyes fell on me like I was a dummy. “Ugly guys pay more for pussy. A lot more.”

“I’ll negotiate the price,” Tara said, “but it’s always your call on accepting the offer. You won’t be able to see his body language, and he’ll think that’s to his advantage. When he makes a bid, where I touch you indicates what I think I’m seeing. The closer to your head I get, the closer I think we are to reaching his limit.”

I didn’t understand. She was going to touch me?

“For example,” she continued, “if he offered ten thousand for Payton and I touched her on her ankle, I think we can get him up quite a bit. If I touch her on the shoulder—”

“I’m going to take it,” Payton said.

Okay, I guessed it made sense. I hadn’t thought much about the pricing or negotiations, and I was relieved not to have to.

Time was rushing along, and when I glanced at my phone it was ten minutes to eleven. There were noises downstairs, stirrings as if clients had begun to arrive. Joseph appeared in the lounge, chatting with a few of the women near the door. I wondered dimly if he’d had his dick in everyone’s mouth at one point or another.

“Number four, Tara,” he said when he passed by.

That was the number of the room I’d sell myself in. Tara handed me a silk robe and showed me where I could put my clothes and purse, and then looked at me as if waiting for me to do something. I couldn’t fathom what, until the five other women in the lounge started to undress.

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