Roxy's Story (The Forbidden 2)

She looked at me and nodded. “You have a bit of a slouch. That must go, and when you walk, you tend to keep your head down, which makes you look insecure. But don’t worry. If she thinks you’re worth it, she’ll get you up to snuff. Let’s proceed to Mrs. Brittany’s office.”

She led me back into the main house, and we crossed in front of the stairway and went down another corridor. I couldn’t imagine how many maids were used to keep the place in shape. Jeffries stepped out of a room, nodded at us, and continued toward the front of the mansion. We paused at two beautiful tall light oak doors embossed with Greek nymphs in trees. Mrs. Pratt knocked on the door.

“Yes?” Mrs. Brittany said, and we entered. Mr. Bob was sitting off to the right on a beautiful black leather sofa. He had a brandy snifter in his hand.

Mrs. Brittany’s office was as large as, if not larger than, most living rooms, I thought. It was richly paneled, and behind her were large double windows. It was too dark by now to see what her view was. She sat behind an oversize dark oak desk with everything on it very neatly organized. There were framed pictures all over the wall on the left, many with politicians I recognized, and an oil portrait of her hung on the wall behind Mr. Bob. In it, she was probably twenty years younger, wearing a beautiful pearl-colored gown and a diamond tiara. There was no doubt that she had been a remarkably beautiful young woman.

“Thank you, Mrs. Pratt,” Mrs. Brittany said, obviously dismissing her.

Mrs. Pratt left, closing the door behind her.

“You may sit,” Mrs. Brittany told me, nodding toward the sofa on which Mr. Bob sat.

He smiled and nodded. “Quite a place, isn’t it?” he asked me.

“Yes,” I said.

“Do you have any questions now?” Mrs. Brittany asked.

“How many women do you employ?”

“That’s not your concern. Ask me things that concern only you.”

“I guess I would live here while doing what you call training?”

“What do you call it? It’s an education, a refinement, a preparation. You’re bright enough to understand that much.”

I was silent.

“Yes, of course, you would live here. And you would be evaluated every moment you were here.”

“And then what?”

“Well, if you meet the test, are ready to go out into the field, I’d place you in your own apartment. In the beginning I would line up your assignments, but I would hope that in time, you would become a request. We’d give you your name.”

“My name?”

“How you would be known when gentlemen called our service. I won’t give you that until I’m convinced that you’re ready.”

“How long does that usually take? I know it depends on the candidate. By the way, is that a good word for girls like me?” I asked. “?‘Candidate?’?”

She smiled. “Yes, très bien. Since you speak French, if you were still in question after six months, I would reconsider.”

“Yes, and give me a kill fee. I was told.”

“Good. What else?”

“I don’t have to have sex with these men?”

She closed her eyes and sighed before opening them again. “No, no, I already explained that. All of my clients understand that having sexual relations is a decision our girls make themselves.” She sat forward. “However, I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you that some of my girls hold on to very high-paying clients by granting sexual pleasure, but that is not a requirement or a service we advertise. Furthermore, if one of my girls got pregnant, that would be the end of her association with my organization. I won’t tolerate any such stupidity.”

“I don’t blame you for that,” I said. “Nevertheless,” I insisted, “if one of your girls is doing it for money, then she’s a prostitute.”

She tightened her lips and looked at me with laserlike intensity. “Even a geisha, a member of a long-standing traditional and cultural phenomenon in Japan, has sexual relations if she so desires, and no one would call her a prostitute, but I stress, and obviously have to repeat, it’s not part of the job description.”

I shrugged. “I’m not saying I have a holier-than-thou attitude. I just wouldn’t like to think of myself that way.”

“Nor should you.” She leaned forward again, her eyes narrow, intense. “Let me make something perfectly clear. None of my successful girls thinks ill of herself. On the contrary, they enjoy their lives, their pleasures, and their rewards and have a great deal of pride. They have great self-respect. If you should be lucky enough to reach that level, you’ll understand.”