But suddenly, another middle-aged woman materialized, this one also with a tight, painful looking bun and a black cocktail dress, her expression just as smooth, just as robotic. What the hell, were these ladies clones? Or was it actually the same woman, save for a few tweaks here and there? I stared hard in the dim light, trying to make a decision, but it was no use. Between her stiff expression and the heavy make-up, I just couldn’t tell. They could have been sisters, twins, clones or maybe even totally different people. It was that hard to tell, given her robotic look.
But there was no need to give away my nervousness, so I took a deep breath, trying to appear calm.
“Hi,” I managed, voice steady. There, that was a good start. Not exactly poetic or take-charge, but “hi” is always a good way to begin a conversation.
The woman merely nodded, checking something off on her clipboard.
“Abigail?” she asked, voice smooth.
I bit my lip, nodding again.
“Come with me please,” she said, voice placid. “The client is ready.”
And I hesitated, hearing that word again. Client. Why were they calling them clients? Wouldn’t customer or guest be more appropriate? It was weird, downright bizarre, and I hesitated.
“I’m so sorry,” I apologized quickly. “But I just wanted to know what this is about? I’m here to talk with guys right? To make small talk, get them comfortable, make sure they have a good time?”
The woman looked at me, an eyebrow quirked.
“Yes, you’re here to do as the client requests,” she replied. “Not more, not less.”
That made me jump again. Not more, not less? What happened to employee protections, to make sure nothing crazy happened?
“But that’s it exactly,” I rushed. “Is there more? Is there, you know, like more? Kissing and stuff?” I blushed, the words were so juvenile but I had to know. I couldn’t go into this with my eyes closed, if we’d indeed signed up for something extreme, it was better to know now. At least I could put up a fight now before heading into the wilds.
But the woman didn’t give anything away. Instead, she merely repeated her words, a robot again.
“You’re here to do as the client asks,” she said vaguely. “Nothing more, nothing less.”
I bit the inside of my cheek then. This was so goddamn frustrating and getting scarier by the moment. I understood if she couldn’t tell me anything, a lot of jobs prevent you from speaking for the company, there’s a strict corporate message. But here, sticking to the script was downright chilling because of what was at stake. It wasn’t just an hour of my life, it was the prospect of kissing a man, of tasting a man’s lips on my mouth, of doing more. And suddenly I was up in arms. Could I handle it, if there was more? Could I, Abby, a virgin, take it? Or what if I couldn’t perform, what if I couldn’t make myself kiss some old guy? What if he was creaky and wrinkly, smelling like menthol? Oh god.
But instead of focusing on the what-ifs and what-could-bes, I got myself in hand, taking a deep breath. There was no sense in psyching myself out when I just didn’t know what would happen. Maybe it’d be inane, maybe it really was just conversation and some smiles, all the while popping warm nuts and champagne. Or maybe there were a few kisses with a couple frogs. So what? I’d live, princesses have to kiss multiple frogs to get to their prince.
So I put a smile on my face and straightened my shoulders.
“I’m ready,” I said with what I hoped was a cool, confident air. “I’m ready.”
And with that, the woman led me past the row of hedges, along numerous corridors, all of them dark, dim, and opulent. Bu even with the low light, I could see ornate mirrors on the walls, straight from Italy, along with gilded wallpaper, gleaming and elaborate. And as we passed one doorway, there was even a fountain in the adjoining space, tinkling lightly in the huge ballroom.
So it couldn’t be that bad right? What had looked like a box on the outside was actually luxe and elegant on the inside, even though there were no windows. This place couldn’t be that terrible if they could afford such luxurious furnishings, even an interior fountain. I took a deep breath, getting some real oxygen, directing myself to relax.
And finally, we came upon a large seating area. Just like the rest of the place, it was dimly lit and luxurious, a huge wooden bar running along one side, the wall backlit, highlighting all sorts of top-shelf liquors. But the space was unique because there were topiaries and potted plants everywhere, as well as those damned hedges. It sounds odd, but the plants actually made it tasteful and elegant, each seating area shielded with vegetation so you couldn’t quite see who was sitting inside.