Sinful Ella (Seven Ways to Sin 6)

Gently, Demi drew me over to a bench and sat me down. “I’m so sorry, dear,” she said, squeezing my hands. “It sounds like you’ve had a rough couple of days. I hope I can put your mind at ease a little. The Ball is nothing like the sex shop you went to yesterday; it’s very clean, and safe, and the staff is attentive and responsible. Nothing bad will happen to you while you’re there. Nothing that you don’t want to happen, anyway.” She dropped a conspiratorial wink.

“I promised my dad I wouldn’t lose my virginity on this tour,” I blurted, then felt my face flame bright red. I couldn’t believe I had just said that out loud.

Demi laughed, but in a nice way. “Well, then you don’t have to, unless you want to. What our dads don’t know won’t hurt them, right?” She reached into one of her pockets and drew out a travel package of tissues. “Here you go,” she said, handing them to me. I blew my nose self-consciously.

“Tell you what,” Demi said, rising to her feet. “I’m going to lend you that dress, free of charge. Just bring it back tomorrow.”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly—” I began to protest, but Demi disappeared into the back before I could finish. She reappeared a minute or so later with a couple of boxes tucked under her arm.

“To complete the look,” she explained, handing them to me. I opened the boxes and gasped. The first box contained a pair of knee-high, high-heeled boots; the second, a set of sleek, elbow-length black gloves. “Try them on,” she urged, so I did. Somehow, Demi had correctly judged my shoe size, and the gloves fit like . . . well, like a glove.

Demi narrowed her eyes as she examined me. “You need something else to complete the look . . .” She grabbed a long, black wig from a nearby mannequin and placed it on my head, carefully tucking stray strands of blonde hair underneath it. “And . . .” she looked around. “Ah!” She tied a sequined masquerade mask over my face. “There!” she said, stepping back to admire her handiwork. “I bet even your own father wouldn’t recognize you. You look wonderful.” Demi regarded me, smiling in a self-satisfied manner. “Take a look,” she said, nodding toward a nearby mirror.

I couldn’t help but gasp at the reflection that gazed back at me. I hardly recognized myself. I looked mysterious. Daring, even. Demi appeared behind me.

“May I give you some advice?” she asked. I nodded.

“You might find it easier tonight if you create a new persona for yourself. An alter ego, so to speak. Slip into a new identity, and you can pretend she’s someone separate from yourself. What was the name that creep wanted you to rebrand as?”

“Sexerella,” I said with a little shudder.

Demi grinned. “That’s perfect,” she said. “That can be your secret alter ego.”

“I don’t know . . .” I said.

“Believe me,” Demi said. “You’ll feel better if you take ownership of the name. There’s nothing more powerful than taking a word used against you and making it your own.”

“Do you think that would work?” I asked, hesitant.

“Would you rather imagine the audience in their underwear?” Demi asked. I shook my head. “Good,” she said. “Because honestly, most of them might already be in their underwear.” That shocked a laugh out of me.

“Thank you,” I said with feeling. I reached for my purse. “But please, I have to pay you . . .”

Demi shook her head decisively. “Don’t even think about it,” she said, ushering me back toward the dressing room. “Just have a wonderful time, and tell me all about it when you come back tomorrow.”

“I will,” I promised. “And thank you. Thank you so much.”

6

Ella

“Come on, come on,” Martine hurried us toward the venue. “We don’t want to be late, do we?” Susanna caught Liz’s eye and made a face, and Liz giggled. I didn’t say anything. I hadn’t forgotten their treatment of me the day before.

A tall woman in a sleek black suit greeted us at the door. “Welcome, welcome!” she said. “You must be the Sinful Sisters. So nice to meet you, I’m Valentina.”

“Oh yes, we spoke on the phone,” Martine said, striding forward to shake Valentina’s hand. “Martine. These are Susanna, Liz, and Ella.”

Valentina shook each of our hands in turn. “Perfect,” she said. “Martine sent me your demo tape. You’ve got quite the voice, Ella.”

“Thank you,” I said quietly, awed by Valentina’s larger-than-life presence. With her thick black eye makeup and vampy red lip, Valentina looked like a cross between a pinup model and a vampire. A very sexy vampire. I felt small and prissy in comparison. My dress felt heavy in my arms, and I hugged it close to myself, as if for protection. Susanna and Liz were already in their dresses, moving awkwardly in their high heels, but I had wanted to wait until we were at the venue, although I was already wearing my dark wig. Susanna and Liz had nudged each other and giggled when I slipped it on.