Hush, Hush (Hush, Hush 1)

Dread forms in the pit of my stomach. Her soothing voice is starting to make my insides turn to mush.

"Yes?"

"Remember, I have eyes and ears everywhere. Don't disappointment me."

"I won't," I respond quietly, then hang up.

I look at the black screen, blinking, thinking, overthinking, before I lift my gaze to Natalie.

I don't say anything. I'm too nervous. I’m not sure what to say anyway, but she's one step ahead of me and hands me a shot, then half of the pill she just split.

I stare at the clear liquid, contemplating my life choices. I could turn around now and walk away. I could say no. I could find another job, a normal job, but instead, I find myself saying, "Spit or swallow, right?"

We clink our shot glasses together as Natalie says, "I'll cheers to that."

Then we throw back the shots together.

Eighteen

The black town car pulls up in front of the Empire Hotel, and I make a mental note to thank Natalie for her special pre-work brew. While I'm nervous as fuck, my knees aren't shaking and I'm not sweating or on the verge of a stroke.

Before I left the apartment, Christine sent one more message listing my price for tonight.

My jaw had dropped when I read the text.

Eight thousand for two hours.

Eight. Thousand. Fucking. Dollars.

For a high priced booty call.

As I step out of the car, I can't help but wonder how much Madam Christine is making off me.

Exhaling a deep breath, I enter the hotel and walk through the building, keeping my focus straight ahead to the elevator. There’s no wait and I get on and take it all the way to the top floor, where my John is waiting at the rooftop bar.

The elevator dings and Natalie’s parting advice to be confident, to act like I own the place, filters through my mind. I put on my best sexy, come-hither face, even though I'm shaking like a leaf inside and my stomach is tensing up, despite my pre-show cocktail.

There's a doorman right when I step out and he asks for my name.

"Au—Valentina."

Fuck. I already made one mistake. He doesn't seem to notice it. Unbuckling the belt, I hand him my new Burberry coat and look down at my attire. A little black dress works for every occasion. Except mine is strapless, shapes to my body, and has a chiffon bow at the center of my breasts. Even I can admit I look like sex on a stick in this dress. Let's hope he's a boob guy because I've got these babies on full display just for him. Everything Natalie put together for me makes me feel beautiful with a hint of seduction. Not too trashy, just enough to get the job done. She said I'm a walking wet dream, and at the moment, I kind of feel like it.

Holding my clutch, I push forward and step outside into a private oasis that doesn’t seem to fit in the middle of the city. Rat pack music is playing and I can feel the bass vibrating through my body. The music isn’t loud, but it's enough to drown out the busy city below.

I feel at least eight pairs of eyes on me as I walk slowly, looking at each one of the men, trying to find my John. When I talk to Madam Christine tomorrow, I'm going to see if she can give me a description for my next job so I don't feel completely blind.

My heart is about to pump out of my chest when a man rises from his seat and walks toward me. This just got one hundred percent real and I feel like I'm going to throw up.

Cue the fucking nerves. I'm rooted in place. Swallowing hard, I nervously bite my lip, unintentionally looking a little innocent and seductive at the same time, but he seems to like it as his eyes flicker with lust. The man has to be in his fifties and he screams old money. He's not attractive, but he’s not horrible either.

"Relax," he whispers into my ear as he takes my hand and pulls me into a tender embrace.

I nod and try to steady my heart. I need to remember that he’s a test John and that Christine has eyes everywhere.

"You look beautiful," he says, and kisses my cheek.

I pull back but keep my hands on him, and peer up through heavy black lashes that only multiple coats of mascara can give. "Thank you," I reply sweetly. "You look pretty handsome yourself." I have no idea what possesses me to say that, but I guess I should show interest, right?