The Blue Room: Vol. 1 (5 page)

          So, this is what desire was
like. Scorching desire. The kind that leaves nothing in its wake but ash.

          “So...” His voice is in my
ear, tickling my earlobe, making my throat close up and my heart race. “What do
you say?”

          “To what?” I already know
what.

          “Me taking caring of you.
Making sure you're at your peak, in terms of health and beauty. And if you so
choose, you'll get first pick of the many, many men who will want to pick you.
Move into Blue Towers. Get a King-Sized bed, a jacuzzi – all the luxury a girl
like you could want.”

          A girl like me. Like he
knows me.

          Like he knows what I want.

          I want the truth. That's
what I hope to find in Blue Towers.

          “Will you be there?” I try
to sound sassy, but it comes out a whisper.

          “Do you want me to be?” He
looks me up and down, his smile so sure, like he's already won.

          I don't answer him. I don't
trust myself to answer intelligently. I think my body will do the talking for
me the second I open my mouth.

          “I don't usually bother
going into the Towers to visit the girls. Day to day maintenance isn't my
style. It's not exactly my area. I don't mix business and pleasure unless I've
got a very good reason to do so.”

          He moves his hand away and
I want to scream.

          “Are all the girls who work
here staying at the Towers?” Meaning,
is Rita at the Towers now
?

          “Most, not all. Some live
with their families. Not a lot, as you can imagine...”

          “Do any – you know – go
away with the patrons?”
Is that where Rita went? Is that why I haven't heard
from her since that last message?

         
“So many questions, Miss Atussi.” He
pulls away completely. My flesh is on fire. “Are you planning on going away
already – when just a second ago you said you didn't want to go away with any
of us?”

          “No – no.” I clarify
quickly. “Why would I?”

          He leans in and kisses me
again. I don't know what game he's playing, but whatever it is, he's got the
upper hand. I bristle at how easy it is for him. “Picture me as your patron.
Your lover. Taking pleasure in giving your pleasure. Taking pleasure in tasting
you.” His kiss is so deep I can barely breathe.

          I close my eyes. Despite
myself, I let him part my lips. I let him put his hand back between my legs.

          “People always think this
business is about women giving men pleasure. But not me. What can I say. I
guess I'm a feminist.” I want to smack that grin off his face. Right after he
finishes fingering me. “I think women should enjoy themselves just as much.
Maybe more.”

          “I have no problem enjoying
myself.” I snap back into sense. “Responsibly.”

          “Everyone here is safe, if
that's what you're worried about. Members have to get an STD test before they
get their card, regular check-ups thereafter. The girls, too.”

          He moves his lips down to
my breasts. I inhale sharply as he takes one of my nipples in his mouth. “Does
this feel dangerous to you?”

          I can only sigh in response.

          “I knew it.” He smiles
wickedly and I can't stand it; I let it happen anyway. “I knew it. I knew there
was a bad girl in there somewhere. I saw it on stage. I saw the real you.
Everyone saw her. And many people – they want to see her again. In a private
room. Alone.”

          He moves his mouth to my
other breast.

          “You are intoxicating, Miss
Atussi. So pure – yet there's a fire in you. I'm sure enough of that. Maybe
you'll even make me break my personal rule. If you want me to. I'll show you
how to unleash that fire. I'll make you crave pleasure. I'll make you need it.
Wouldn't you like that/ Wouldn't you like everything I could give you?”

          I can't tell if he's
playing me or I'm playing him.

          What he's offering me is
access, plain and simple. Access to him. And with it, maybe, the Blue Room's
secrets.

          “Yes,” I said. I don't know
if I mean it.

          “Then move into the Towers,
Staci.”

          I want to moan again.

          “It's time to live.”

          I nod. Slowly.

          Even now, I don't know
which of us is winning.

Chapter
5

         
M
y ears are ringing. The orgasm I've experienced is so
violent, so earth-shaking, that the sky goes black and white above my eyes. I
can't see a thing. I'm shaking, all over. My body is trembling like a twig in
the depths of a thunderstorm. My skin is so sensitive; I can feel every inch of
the satin sheets against my spine.

          I look around me in shock.
For a second, my hands clutch around empty air. My fingers trace nothingness.

          Then...

          Who was it that held me?
Who was it that wrapped his legs around my waist, that thrust inside me, that
let his chest clench against my chest, that let me feel his smooth skin, his
taut muscles, his rippling strength?

          I'm breathing shallow,
hard, so loud I'm afraid I'll wake up the person in the room next to me. I'm
breathing so hard I
can't
breathe.

         
It was only a dream,
Staci.
I feel stupid, saying it out loud. But I have to, to reassure
myself, to stop my heart from beating as fast as a hummingbird's. Whatever I
felt, whatever pleasure I succumbed to in the night – it wasn't real. That
face, those glittering blue eyes with that wicked smirk in them – I hadn't
succumbed, not really. I hadn't done anything at all except dare to dream of
Terrence Blue, the most dangerous man in Los Angeles. And the most sensuous.

          He'd kissed me on the cheek
when he brought me up to the hotel. “Room 342,” he'd said with a grin. “I'll be
sure to remember that.” But he hadn't tried to come inside. He'd been a perfect
gentleman.

          “Tomorrow's Monday,” he had
said before I went in. “It's your day off. You should do something special with
it.”

          “I don't want to do
anything,” I'd said.

          “Suit yourself. But I want
you to know – you have the option.”

          I'd spent a few hours just
walking around the room, in shock. The Blue Tower was everything they'd said it
was and more. I'd never even dreamed of luxury like this. Satin sheets,
four-poster beds, a balcony with a view over Los Angeles, twenty-four inch
plasma television screens, a minibar stocked with the finest liquors a girl
like me could want.
If my mother could see me here,
I thought – with a
pang –
she wouldn't believe her eyes.

         
If my mother could see me here.

          The thought filled me with
shame. Me, here, in a hotel room that probably cost as much per night as a
whole course of chemotherapy. I had a wild urge to steal something, anything –
the art on the walls, the beautiful mahogany carvings on the mantlepiece – to
pawn it that very night and run to my mother with the cash in hand and tell her
to make one last attempt, one last-ditch try, to get out of that hospice. To
survive.

           Stupid girl, I'd chided
myself then. Believing in last-minute miracles. Believing that any good could
come out of a place like this.

          I was here for one reason
and one reason only. To find out what happened to Rita. To expose this place as
the evil it was.

          I walked through the room,
letting my fingertips trace the satin on the bed. I took a bath in the Jacuzzi
and tried to watch the sweat, the sickness, the shame off my skin. But they'd
got it sticking to me good. Even after an hour in the tub, scrubbing myself
fervently, I couldn't stop smelling Terrence Blue on my skin.

          And now I'd dreamed about
him.

          A knock comes at my door.
Breakfast – this early? On my day off? I groan as I pull on a lilac silk
dressing gown and go to the door.

          “Good morning, miss.
Courtesies of Terrence Blue,” the maid holds out a silver platter. “He says to
spend your day off wisely.” She looks up at me. “A car's waiting downstairs to
take you to the airport.”

          I look down in shock at the
platter. There it is, a first class ticket to Los Vegas.

          My mouth drops open.

         
Does he know?

         
No, he can't know. He thinks I'm like
the other girls, that I want to go squander all my winnings in the slot
machines, that I want to get drunk and party. Maybe he thinks a weekend in
Vegas among all those high rollers will loosen me up, make me more willing to..

          I shake my head.

          He has
no
idea that
what I want most in Vegas can't be found coming out of any slot machine.

          Before lunchtime, I'm
taking a taxi up to the Sweet Ranch Hospice. I've taken off all my makeup, worn
my most girlish dress.

          I'm here to see my mother.

          Her face lights up when she
sees me. Even under the sickness, there's a woman there, a woman capable of
such incredible joy when she's near the people she loves. Not even cancer can
ravage that smile, that smile of pure love. Of real love – true love – not the
sordid fake affection you buy and sell at the Blue Room. Seeing her, in this
simple place – the only hospice we can afford for her – makes me feel ashamed
at the luxury I've left behind.

          “Honey!” Her voice is still
strong. “I've missed you so much.”

          “I've missed you too, Mom.”

          I wish I could be with her
all the time. I wish I didn't have to leave.

          “How's your new job?”

          I flush. “It's good, I
guess. They pay me pretty well.” I feel a sudden burst of pride when I'm able
to leave a stack of bills on her table. “I want you to order anything you want,
ok? Order delivery from the finest restaurant in town. All the dessert you
want.”

          “The good life, huh?” Her
laugh is a croak, and brings tears to my eyes. “Careful, Staci, you know I
can't have too much fat. I might get a heart attack.”

          The humor is black, but it
binds us together.

          “You found an apartment
yet?”

          “Actually – the club puts
the girls up. In a hotel they own.”

          My mother''s brow furrows.
“That's pretty unusual, honey.”

          “It's normal for them. It's
how they keep an eye on us – make sure we're working out, practicing, eating
all our vegetables.”

          “They're not...” she sighs.
“They're not making you do anything you want to do, are they?”

          “No, Mommy,” I place my
hand against her cheek. “Don't worry. I'm totally in control.” Involuntarily, I
summon Terrence to mind again. I shiver at the thought of him.

          “You be careful, hear?” She
pulls me closer. “These places, some of them. They exist to make money off the
backs of beautiful, naïve girls like you.”

          “I'm not naïve.”

          “You know that world – it
isn't all glitz and glamour.”

          “I know, Mom.” I've known
that since before I was born.

          “Any boys out there – to
keep you on the straight and narrow?”

          “One...” I answer in spite
of myself. “But I don't think straight and narrow is exactly his scene.”

          She looks worried again. “I
don't like the sound of him.”

          “Don't worry,” I tell her,
patting her hand. “I have my head screwed on straight.”

          “There are mistakes I don't
want you making.”

          “Don't worry, Mom. You
raised a responsible girl.” I try not to let the tears fall. “One who knows how
to be careful.”

          Now my mother is smiling
again. She's positively beaming.

          “I know, Staci. When I see
you coming in here, looking the way you look – you're so beautiful. Not just
outside, but inside. You're radiant. Healthy. Happy. I'm so proud of the way
you've grown up. I know it hasn't always been easy for us, but you've never let
the challenges you faced set you back. You know they'll only ever help you get
stronger. You've seen so much, done so much. And I believe you could have the
life I....”

         
I never got to have.

          But she won't say that. Not
for a second. She won't ever admit that having me ruined her life, ruined her
dreams.