Rhapsody (Butcher and Violinist 1)
“And we won’t tell your aunt.”
“Hell-to-the-no.”
“Okay. You get dressed, and I’ll tell him that it’s a deal.” She extended her hand to me. “Deal?”
I gave her my hand. “Deal.”
“I’m officially your pimp now.”
“I like Sexual Manager.”
Chapter 9
Fuck-Me Eyes
Eden
Once Shalimar left, Leo arrived.
Hauling his cello, he dragged himself through the place and set the case by the closet. Usually when he played, he kept the tattoos covered. Tonight, he wore a fishnet shirt and leather jeans, which revealed the ones on his arms. He’d tied his dreadlocks into a ponytail and hid the purple ones.
“Where are you coming from?” I asked.
“I had a studio gig with an indie rapper.” He headed to the kitchen, went to the drawer by the fridge, pulled it out, and grabbed a bag of weed. “We need to reup soon.”
“That’s an ounce. I just bought it for you.”
“Exactly, the struggle is real.” He brought out tobacco leaves and commenced to rolling a blunt. “What have you been up to? I’m surprised you’re home tonight.”
I caught him up on everything—from working at the brothel to Jean-Pierre’s private performance. I didn’t want to tell him about my arrangement, but he was the only one I could trust with the news.
I can tell him.
When I explained the deal, he stopped rolling his blunt and stared at me. “You’re going to do what?”
“Shh.”
“No one’s in here to hear.”
“I’m just saying.”
“What are you saying?” He finished rolling and shook his head. “Are you about to start hooking?”
“Not like on the street—”
“But the hooking part is right?”
“It’s for 100k.”
“What?” He tore the blunt. Crumbled marijuana mixed with tobacco fell to the counter. “Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
He didn’t even pick up the herbs. “100k? I knew dude was a sugar daddy. I smelled that shit on the roses. 100k? Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“To do what?”
“Um.” I shrugged. “He says: the girlfriend experience. And I have… like a…mentor who’s helping me with the deal and preparing—”
“A pimp?”
“A friend who knows the business and his type of people. Either way, she’s saying that the girlfriend experience is like being a girlfriend.”
“And what else? You need to know, Eden. For 100k, you’re doing more than being his girlfriend. He’s going to be hanging your ass up from the ceiling or something, upside down and fucking you in your ear.”
“Really, Leo? I’m freaking out enough.” I sat down on a bar stool by the counter and picked up his marijuana crumbles. “I’ve thought this through.”
“So, you agreed to do this?”
“Yeah.”
He cocked his head to the side. “For how long?”
“Thirty days.”
“When does it start?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Fuck. He’ll be here?”
“No. I’ll be with him.”
“Eden. . .I don’t know.” He shook his head.
“I’ll have a bodyguard.”
“Still.”
“Don’t tell my aunt.”
“She doesn’t know?”
“Of course not.”
“This is going to be fucked up.”
“Don’t say that. Don’t even put that out in the universe.” I grabbed a tobacco leaf and began to roll a new blunt. “This is going to work. It’s going to be fine.”
“You’re going to have sex with some guy for money? Shit is that bad right now?”
“He’s not a bad looking guy.”
Leo raised his eyebrows. “He’s good-looking?”
“Very.”
“No way.”
“He used to play violin.”
“What?” Leo undid his ponytail. His dreadlocks fell around his face. “Is he known?”
I almost told Leo the truth but realized that Jean-Pierre was an escaped convict and probably wouldn’t want everyone knowing. “No, he wasn’t popular at all. He just played as a hobby.”
“But you would have sex with this guy, even if he wasn’t offering to pay you?”
“Yes. Definitely. Yes.”
“That’s good at least.”
“It is.” I handed him the finished blunt.
He took that and pulled out his lighter. “This shit still makes me nervous.”
“Me too.”
“Call me all the time.”
“I will.”
“If shit goes down—”
“It won’t.”
“But if it does, Eden, call me.”
“I will.”
He lit the blunt, inhaled, and then exhaled smoke. “A hundred thousand dollars?”
“Yes.”
He took another puff and passed the blunt to me. “Damn, you’re expensive. I would’ve slept with him for ten thousand.”
I laughed. “You don’t even know what he looks like.”
“Still. Money is money.”
We laughed. Maybe out of nervousness. But most definitely because we were getting high.
Leo always had a masculine view of sex. Everything was an exchange—money, orgasms, fun, etc. He would’ve prostituted himself to the landlord, if it got us free rent. He’d offered. The landlord blushed and said no but gave us an extension.
“Shit.” Leo grabbed the blunt from me. “This is going to be a good deal for you in the end. 100k would give you a good year. Just keep your head clear. Don’t be a chick.”
I rolled my eyes. “A chick?”
“Keep the romance out of the deal. Fuck him. Don’t make love. Kiss with your lips, not with your heart.” He blew out smoke. “When you have sex, open your legs, but don’t open your soul.”
I laughed. “Very poetic, but I get the point.”
“Don’t be a chick.”
A hundred thousand dollars for a girlfriend experience. This could make or break me. This could be the best thing I’d ever done in my life or the worst. Either way, it would be enough money for me to live off for several months. The anxiety over student loans and bills would disappear. I could get the basics; food, toiletries, sneakers, new music and even check out a movie. I’d been struggling so bad, that I hadn’t taken the time to enjoy the small things in life.