Chapter 1
Aspen
"There has to be a way that I can keep my house," I tell my best friend Willow for what feels like the hundredth time as we're looking through articles online about how to make money quickly.
Almost everything that we have come across looks like a scam with headlines like 'make $20,000 at home this week.’ I'm pretty sure the ads were to trick women into sex trafficking.
Willow has a very different need to make money than I do. For her, it's all about safety and getting out of town and out from under the debt that her dad left her. For me, it's all about being able to keep my house and pay off my mom's medical bills after she died.
A few hours later, I'm about to give up hope when Willow finally strikes something.
"Okay, so somehow, I ended up on this sugar baby website. While I know neither of us wants to go the sugar daddy route, they do have some good ideas. Though their ideas are very out-of-the-box thinking. Maybe we should soak these in and sleep on them tonight and see what options sound ok in the morning. All right?," she says, looking at me.
Great, if we're down to that kind of option, I'm about to lose my house and everything that I have left.
"Okay, let's hear it."
"So, this one is more along the lines of what I need. It’s a modern day mail-order bride service. Sort of like online dating, but instead of looking for a date, he’s looking for a wife. The man basically pays for me to move out there with him. They list specific criteria. Just taking a quick glance, many are cowboys looking for someone to keep house and cook. I do have the option to not marry him, but it's all done within the period of a few weeks."
We look over the website that's been recommended, and it seems legit. But she's right, that's more for her. I don't want to move and give up everything because I want to stay right here.
Moving out of town, at least for now, would be best. But you gamble never knowing what kind of man you are tying yourself down to.
"That sounds great for you, but I would definitely get more information. Like how long you have to stay married before you don't have to pay the money back. Especially since the company headquarters looks to be right here in Chicago."
Willow goes back to the original webpage and starts going down a few ideas, each one less appealing than the last.
The Ideas range from selling your used underwear online to starring in a porno.
"Okay, here's one that I think you should give some serious consideration to and hear me out before you immediately reject it," Willow says, staring at me.
"Fine. I will give it serious thought. What is it?"
"Have you heard of Club Red here in Chicago?" she asks and then pulls up the Club Red website.
The website shows it’s one of those BDSM sex clubs that we read about in the romance novels we like to share. I knew they existed, but I've never actually been to one or really looked one up online. Though It looks really classy and if I'm being honest a little fun.
"I know what it is. But I didn't realize there is one here in Chicago." I shrug it off waiting to see what she says next.
"Well, the club is doing a virgin auction."
"Did I just hear you right? You want me to auction off my virginity?" I ask in complete shock.
"I would totally do it if I was still a virgin, so hear me out. Your first time is going to suck anyway, so why not get paid for it? Not only will you get paid more than what you need to pay off the debt and keep the house, but it'll give you enough to go to school. You lose your V-card and only have to spend a week with the guy. Then you never have to see him again."
In shock, I stare at Willow because she is absolutely serious.
"Listen, just think about it. I'm going to go to sleep now so that I can call this mail-order bride company first thing in the morning." Willow packs up her computer and heads upstairs. She's been staying with me in the guest bedroom for the past couple of weeks.
We both need money and no matter the amount of extra shifts or even extra jobs we pick up, we won't make the type of money that we need in time. I look around the house where I grew up and the one my mom raised me as a single mother. She worked hard and spent all her money trying to give me a stable home.
The stack of bills on the dining room table seems to be mocking me. Angry red stamps all over them, telling me this is my final chance to pay. At the time, taking a second mortgage on the house in order to help my mom get better sounded like a good idea.
Her doctors were so sure she could beat this. After she was better, we would both work and pay it off while I went to night classes. We had a plan, dammit. Then one morning she was just too weak to get out of bed. Her doctors said the cancer took an aggressive turn, and it was nothing like he had seen before. She died a week later.
That was only a few months ago and the debt collectors didn't waste any time calling in anything that was in my mom's name.
The thought of losing this house is more than I can bear, and the big red foreclosure letters on the envelopes from the mail today mock me as I sit at the dining room table.