Writing

Tell Me What You Came Here For #amwriting #fiction #writing


Passion comes by the dozen. On the other hand, make that four. Love, one in a million.

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Her. It started with her. She took full advantage of me, and I allowed her to. I was too young, naive, and innocent, wanted to experience what love is like. Though, she left me confused, sad, angry even; yet, took my heart and haven’t given it back. Nine months later, a baby girl was placed in my arms by my parents telling me she is mines. 


I didn’t even know when she was born, let alone conceived. I was fifteen and in college then. Yeah, I started college at a rather young age, and became a father around the same time. So, to my understanding, we’re going to just sweep how my daughter was conceived under the rug? At this moment, I can’t…. I’m feeling suffocated by…

(Shuddering.)

🔸🔹🔸🔹🔸🔹🔸🔹

I gaze out through the bay window, waiting for my “shift” to end. Unpleasant memories are back torturing me. I’m twenty-four years old now, not fifteen. The day is nearing an end. I’m not particularly considering another client to walk through the door requesting for my time… and services at this hour; however, I’m known for clients to strut in as late as 10:00 p.m. It’s going on 8:30 on this dreary evening and all I really wanted is to sleep. I sighed.

I moved away from the window, taking in the other guys sprawled out throughout the living room, the getting-to-know room, I like to call it, where our clients and we can become acquainted. They are entertaining the women, having a joyous time, sipping wine and swaying to slow jazz.

Some of them appeared interested in tonight’s episode of enticement; I’m sure, while a few including me are ready to turn in for the night. Unlike me, the few already have their rooms occupied with someone waiting for them.

“Kevin, you want a drink?” Someone called out to ask me.
I turned swiftly and saw that it was Ash walking my way with a shot glass filled already. Oh yeah, filled my glass first without asking me, I thought sarcastically. The last time someone had done that, I ended up here, against my will!

“No, dude! An already-filled glass ready?… um no, you know I don’t go for that!” I exploded. He knew not to do that. It’s kind of hard keeping my anxiety down living here. Majority of the guys think they are living the dream, while I am secretly planning on ways to leave this bewildering place.

“Oh, alright, damn,” He scurried away, mocking my agitated face.

Squatting on a bar stool to calm my nerves, staring over at the new décor in the lavish, spacious adjoining room Madame Genevieve furnished a month ago, I am at awe. She finally managed to change the previous dreadful look that made me sickened by it. This new look.. wow!

She went with an Egyptian theme of ivory, red, and black colors with decorations that is in the form of the head of the Sphinx, animal figurines, wall paintings, all the works; she has definitely done well. It was probably purchased with my money, since I made her the most money than all the guys here. Hmm…no wonder she won’t let me leave.

“Are you booked tonight, Kev?” Brian asked, knocking his knuckles against the wooden table to get Sam, the bartender’s attention.

“Nope. Hopefully, I’ll stay unbooked. These women are tiring me out,” I told him, taking in a breath, reflecting back to a beautiful Latin woman named Marissa. She really knows how to have a good time. Whatever happened to her?

“Really? I find that hard to believe. An attractive Italian-Native American guy like you with all the works… you got it going on man, you’d graduated from a four-year Ivy League college at the age of nineteen. Man- oh, thanks Sam. What was I talking about?” Brian leaned toward me, scrunching up his forhead. He’s so confused it made me feel the same way. This guy’s short-term memory is no laughing matter; he got it bad. I waved the confusion away.

“Nothing. You have a client?” He nodded, then made a head gesture towards the Egyptian room to a gorgeous Latin woman with a curvaceous body talking to a stunning, tall African woman. Brian tells me her name is Miss Matthews. She winks at him, and with a curve of her finger, she beckons for Brian’s overeager ass to lead her to his room.

He met my smirk as he drowns the rest of his vodka, and nodded in another direction. “Looks like Madame is hooking you up for tonight, you lucky man you. Enjoy!” He informed me, very close to my ear, I might add. Too close.

I cut my eyes at him and from the corner of my eyes, saw Genevieve sashaying in a pink floral print, full-length kaftan dress leading this strange woman my way. Oh, damn! I should have been prepared for this, but I’m not. My breathing stats to hitch.

I motioned for Sam to pour me a drink; the guy was already on the job. I hear the Southern drawling of her voice coming closer. The sultriness of her drawling can only mean one thing… she has a potential client personally for me; who wants an all-nighter; I can see the never-ending greed in Genevieve’s eyes.

This woman she have with her has a hard glare trained on me with catty green eyes like she is assessing me. She is a red-headed beauty, wearing a purple lace camisole and black skirt, her purse and night bag bounce against her toned legs.

I glimpsed quickly at Genevieve, who forks an eyebrow, gazed back to this strange woman, and in a low, deep voice, I purred,

“Tell me what you came here for, bella,” stroking her delicate palm.


****To Be Continued…

 

©2016 Pamela E. Hester

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