Selling Scarlett

“This is where the escorts and the trainers and the tutors live,” Loveless tells me. “Behind the big house—” she points between the main house and the manor where the staff lives— “is another wing where Marchant and his buddies have their private suites. The other building across the way,” she says, pointing across the courtyard at the third manor house, “is where we do official things, like see a doctor or go to the media lab or study if we want. If someone comes out here, like to fix the roof or a plumber or something, that’s where Rach meets them. Can’t have strangers in and out of the big house.”

“There are privacy issues,” Juniper says.

“That makes sense. Is Marchant Radcliffe here often?” I ask. I feel slightly nauseated, but Juniper shakes her head. “He’s in and out. He trusts Richard and Rachelle to keep us straight.”

The door opens for us from the inside, and we step into a smaller, more relaxed version of the ‘big house’. It’s decorated in vibrant lavender, deep purple, and silver, with silver fixtures, a ping-pong table, a pool table, and a cheery fireplace.

"This is our building," Geneese says. "You can call me Loveless, by the way. Everybody else does.”

I follow them to the second floor, past identical faux wood doors decorated by welcome mats and the occasional potted plant. While we walk, Loveless and Juniper tell me about the gym below the building. As I wait for them to change, sitting in a plush chair outside Juniper’s room, I feel awkward again, like the new girl, and I wonder how much they like me, or if they feel obligated to entertain me. I decide eventually that they both seem real enough, and even if they’re being phony, there’s no point in worrying about it.

A few minutes later, Juniper emerges from her flower-adorned doorway in nothing but a black leotard and hot pink sneakers. She smiles and hands me a bottle of Evian. “I’m glad you’re working out with us. I was wondering about you.” Before she says exactly what she was wondering, she asks, “Do you have your own bag?”

“Gym bag?”

She shakes her head. “Punching bag.”

“Not my own, but I’ve used them at gyms.”

“It’s therapeutic,” she smiles, but I get the feeling she doesn’t have too many demons.

She slants an eyebrow at me and gives me a look that’s caught somewhere between a smile and a smirk. “I know what you’re thinking,” she says coyly. “I’m British, and I don’t seem like a whore.”

I gape, although that isn’t really what I was thinking—I’m too shell-shocked to have gotten that far—and Juniper bursts out laughing. I make a mental note that she doesn’t think she seems like a whore. I’ll enjoy dissecting that later.

“I am an escort,” she says, “but I’m also a cliché.”

“Huh?”

She grins. “I’m a student. I’m studying at a distance, and later I’ll probably also teach that way. But this has been my job for seven years.”

My eyes widen, and she nods. “I’m an expert in the field of c**k and balls.”

Now it’s my turn to crack up. We’re both smiling when we get to Loveless’s room.

She comes out in turquoise tights, an orange sports bra, and high-top trainers, looking like a model for sports clothes. As she turns to lock her door, she looks over her shoulder.

“I can’t wait to get to know you. We haven’t had any new blood in months.”

“Druscilla,” Juniper reminds her.

“That girl’s as exciting as a roll of toilet paper.”

Juniper elbows Loveless. "A soft, sweet roll."

“True,” Loveless says. “But Scarlett, she’s got secrets."

I laugh, though my heart is in my throat. “Secrets?” I shake my head. “I’m afraid I’m an open book.”

But Juniper nods. “Richard hasn’t told us anything about you. I mean, flat-out nothing. You’re shrouded in mystery.”

“Am I?”

“Well, a few of us know you want to keep everything quiet,” Loveless says.

I chew my lip. “Wow. I didn’t realize Richard had discussed me with anyone else.”

“Just Loveless and Rachelle,” Juniper tells me. “Rach is the manager here, as I’m sure you know, and Loveless is the Head Girl." I arch a brow, and they both laugh. "We try to keep it light," Loveless says. "And I do give mean head."

I blush, and Juniper says, "You will, too, before it’s over. We’ll teach you."

When my eyes widen, she says, "Don’t worry. We’ll use a dildo."

Loveless nods as I try to get my face to return to its regular color. "A big, blue dildo. You’ve got a whole box of treasures waiting in your room. But we can talk about the sexin’ later. For now, we want to hear more about you."

My stomach flips, and I hate myself for it. For being so un-smooth. I’m in my twenties now. I should be more confident. Less afraid of what everyone thinks. After firing off a quick, sarcastic thank you to my Mom, who’s got to be the source of my perpetual fear of others’ judgments, I sigh. “What do you want to know?”

“Where are you from?” Juniper asks.

Seeing no reason to lie, I say, “I’m from California.”

“Wouldn’t be the Napa Valley area, would it?” Loveless asks me. She’s wiggling her eyebrows.

I gape, truly taken aback, and they eagle-eye me.

I quickly pull it together, feeling a little more confident as we file into a stairwell. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” Juniper says. “We’ve got one of those Superman kind of clients. Loveless and a few of the other girls are half in love with him. Quite pathetic, really.”

“I am not,” Loveless says defensively. “He’s just a mystery. Well, he was," she says, looking troubled.

“Who is he?” I ask, trying maybe too hard to be one of the girls. Honestly the thought of any client scares the poo out of me..

Loveless looks over her shoulder, casual as can be. “His name is Hunter.”

“Hunter.” I barely have enough air in my lungs to get the word out; I’m slayed by the image of Hunter locked around beautiful Loveless.

“We should go by first name only,” Juniper interjects. “Privacy,” she tells me with her brows arched. “Hunter’s been a client here for years, but he mainly just sees Sarabelle, Loveless, and Marie V.”

I’m silent as I imagine Marie V. and Loveless with their paws on Hunter.

Hunter visits Love Inc.? The shock of it makes my chest ache, although why am I surprised? His BBF owns the place.