Serving Mr. Serrano

The Girls

Being a hooker is exhausting.

It wasn't just the s*x itself that took up so much of my energy, but all the preparation for the clients. You had to get your hair done, your brows plucked, and your nails had to be on point. Coochie had to be waxed just right, legs shaved until they were as smooth as marble. Then there was the make-up, the clothing, the lotions, perfumes, jewellery, shoes - everything had to be exactly as the client wanted or you risked making them unhappy.

It was all part of selling the fantasy, you see.

Normal people didn't have time to get ready the way we did. They had jobs, meetings, appointments, children, a life outside of the men and women they dated. Sometimes the wife wasn't in the mood for a quickie in the elevator, or hubby was too tired to get it up after a long day. Other times, their tastes and fantasies were just too weird and kinky to be shared with their significant others. They didn't want their partners judging them for their preferences, their fetishes.

So they came to us.

For every fetish and kink known to man - legal, of course - there were trained escorts available to cater to them. Exhibitionism, voyeurism, b**m, role play, control dynamics… sweetie, you can name it and we do it.

Of course, we don't all do the same things.

For example, there will be women and men with better experience as Doms or Dommes. Others will have a higher tolerance for pain, and some will excel at role-play. Each escort does what they do best, and the clients appreciated that more than I could express. Serrano's brothels… cough… escort agencies were different from the others for a number of reasons.

Firstly, every single employee - from management to the escorts - worked there willingly. We weren't forced, or drugged or coerced into the work like the men and women in other territories.

Two, consent was very, very important and Serrano really didn't take kindly to anyone forcing us to do anything we didn't want to. It didn't matter if the client demanded a specific girl. If she didn't want to do it, then she didn't do it and nobody could force her into it. Which didn’t mean we didn’t normally bend. Our clients were able and willing to cough up so much cash it was difficult to say no.

Three, we had to adhere to a strict diet and exercise routine. And no, this wasn't to keep the escorts slender. The food we ate was more for nourishment and good health than weight loss. Serrano wanted us healthy, with copious amounts of stamina, so we could provide the clients with whatever they wanted.

Four, we weren't allowed to give any of our clients any personal information. It was more for our sake than theirs, though they were allowed to use aliases for their own privacy as well. There had to be a line separating our personal lives from work. Most of our clients understood that we were only providing a service, while some of them didn't. There have been instances where a client became too fond of a girl, stalking her from work to her private residence and it never ended well. Serrano forbade any contact between the client and the escort for those reasons, and anyone who didn't obey his rules were dealt with accordingly.

Like Hudson, for example.

Yara and I were looking through the closet for clothes to wear tonight when she dropped the bomb.

"Apparently, Hudson's missing."

My eyes widened, though I wasn’t very surprised. "Missing how?"

"Like, nobody has seen him since the night of that party, E."

My stomach knotted a bit with apprehension. The very last thing I wanted was for Hudson to end up dead. Looking back at everything Serrano had said, I should have guessed this would be the likely result.

"What actually happened after you knocked him out?" she asked, her hazel eyes searching. We were close enough that she'd know if I was lying. I discreetly glanced around the room, noticed there were several other men and women perusing the newest arrivals, picking out accessories and shoes.

"Can we talk about this a bit later?" I whispered, leaning closer to her. "The last thing I need are people questioning me about Hudson."

"What about Hudson?"

Yara and I shushed Taylor urgently, who immediately frowned at our reaction like we'd gone mad. Chae was close behind her, but her attention was focused solely on the screen of her phone, a soft smile on her face. "What is going on?"

"Remember how I got sick on Monday evening, and asked Eden to take my place as Hudson's date?" Taylor nodded, blue eyes darting between the two of us. "Well, he's missing now and she won't tell me what happened."

"Didn't she knock him out after he groped her?" Chae asked, her voice a little too loud.

"You know what…"

"I thought it wasn't a secret," Chae replied, defending herself. She put her phone in the back pocket of her jeans and folded her arms over her chest.

"It isn't. I just think it's best we talk about this later, when there aren't so many people around to eavesdrop on our conversation. Preferably at Yara's…"

Two hours later, after we'd ransacked the closet and stolen shoes from Le Petite Mort, the girls and I settled on Yara's balcony to smoke a joint. I'd just finished rolling the blunt when Yara stepped back out onto the balcony with a few cocktails on a tray. While she retrieved the snacks, I took a long, deep drag and inhaled sharply.

"So spill. What actually happened?"

I blew the smoke out slowly, taking one more drag before passing the joint to Chae. She reached out, slender fingers taking the blunt from me with ease.

"Well, I told you guys what Hudson did, right?"

Nods, all of them concerned and gentle.

"Turns out I had an audience. Dominic Serrano just so happened to walk in after I knocked Hudson out."

Three pairs of eyes widened with shock and disbelief, but they didn't say anything for a full minute. Then, I'm bombarded with questions.

"What?"

"You mean he came in just after you knocked Hudson out?"

"Was he angry?"

"Is he the reason Hudson is missing?"

"What the f**k happened next?"

With a drink in one hand, and a hors d'oeuvre in the other, I told them everything that happened between Dominic and I the night of his birthday. The discussion about Hudson, how we flirted with each other, touching him…

Taylor flipped her blonde waves over her shoulder, then leaned forward with a smile on her face. "You touched Dominic Serrano?"

"Yes," I said, taking the joint from Yara.

"What was it like? What was he like?"

I mulled her question over, thinking back to how I'd felt in his presence. Granted, he hadn't been cruel or discourteous towards me, which you'd expect from a man like him. Actually, he'd been rather nice. Charming and sweet, even. But his kindness didn't take away from that dark, dangerous air that swirled around him, his intimidating presence. If anything, it made it all the more apparent.

"Honestly, the man is f*****g terrifying. He has this uncanny ability to make you feel so much smaller than him without even trying. He takes up all the space in the room, you know? Like a titan."

I didn't know why I'd just said that, but now that I was talking about him, I couldn't stop.

"And there's an arrogance about him, a ruthlessness that many of the clients we know have to fake. But it comes naturally to him, like breathing. He exudes this air of power and competence. Plus his s*x appeal is off the f*****g charts. The man is walking, talking, breathing sex."

And there had been something there; an unexpected connection that had stolen my breath away the second our eyes locked. Those dark blue orbs had lowered to take in the rest of my body, slowly, as if he had all the time in the world to just look. My body warmed, and a need as intense as that dark gaze had grown in my belly. It was because of that need that I was suddenly so aware of his presence, his scent, those impressive eyes. And every time he spoke, my heart beat just a little faster in my chest.

"He clearly made an impression on you," Yara said.

He had.

To the extent that I'd forgotten all about his no-touching rule and reached out to fix the slightly skewed bow-tie around his neck. I remembered too late about his dislike of human contact, but by then, I was already too close to pull back. So I lowered my hand to his chest, felt the heat radiating from his body, and the powerful, steady beat of his heart beneath my palm.

And just like that, I was a f*****g goner. I wonder - I've been wondering, actually - what he would have done if we'd been entirely alone at that moment. Would he have pushed me against the wall and had his wicked way with me? Would he have taken me to his bedroom upstairs, thrown me on the mattress and then f****d me?

Would I have let him?

Of course, I would've.

By the time I left that room, I was so wet I was surprised he didn't notice. Or maybe he just knew the kind of effect he had on women.

"Why not reach out to him?"

I arched a brow at Yara's question, then polished off my cocktail. I now had a nice little buzz going on that I didn't want to waste.

"As much as I'd love to, darling, I'm not sure a man like that has any need for a hooker," I admitted, standing from my seat. I picked up the empty tray of drinks and took it with me.

"You don't know that, though," Chae admonished, following me inside. "He might be interested."

"And if the look on your face is anything to go by, you'd jump his bones if you saw him again."

I shrugged, silently acknowledging her point.

The subject is dropped as we focused our attention on more important things.

It's girls' night.

With January coming to an end, business was a little slow. Pockets were a little flat after paying off tuition fees, wives were still upset about spending the festive season with the in-laws, and executives were preparing for the end of the financial year, which gave us the weekend off to have fun.

We were lucky to all be free for the next two days, though, especially since Taylor's been entertaining some big name she couldn't tell us about. He's been keeping her quite busy, so we haven't really seen her since New Year's Day at Chae's party.

After getting dressed, the girls and I call one of Serrano's rental car services. We were always encouraged to make use of the services available to us, especially when we went out. This way, we were guaranteed protection for the night and we could get as drunk as we wanted.

The driver allowed us to play music from the radio, and Yara turned the volume all the way up on our drive to SpLoosh!. Drake's Nonstop blasted through the speakers, causing the windows to vibrate furiously from the bass.

Once we arrived at our destination, we're welcomed by loud music, flashing lights and the warmth of a hundred, sweating, young bodies in their prime. I was already moving to the music before we'd even been led to our seats. Enjoying the pound of the bass from the current song, I asked Yara to join me on the dance floor.

We twerked and we wined and we swayed our hips to the trap song blasting through the speakers, ignoring the crowd around us. It has always been easier for us this way. We never came to these clubs looking for men or anything like that. We came to drink and let loose, to dance and have fun, because we usually had to dedicate our time and efforts to the pleasure of others. Nights like these were meant entirely for us, to remind each other that we were still young and we had our whole lives ahead of us.

At some point, Yara and I wandered upstairs to our VIP table, where Tay and Chae were enjoying a bottle of chilled champagne. I reached into the bucket and grabbed the bottle, taking a large sip directly from the mouth before passing it to Yara.

"Gross," Chae remarked, scrunching up her nose dramatically.

The rest of the night passed by very well, with everyone in our group enjoying themselves enough to stand when a Nasty C song came on. Even Chae was shaking her cute booty by the end of the night.

Happily drunk and exhausted, we left shortly after three, and stopped at a drive-by to get some much-needed food into our bellies.

"Aren't you supposed to meet up with a client tomorrow?"

The question was raised by Yara to Tay. The blonde shook her head, reaching for the fried chips in the centre. We were all sitting around the dining table in my apartment, occupying four of the six chairs. All the food was spread out on the table, our plates in front of us. I'd placed some serving spoons and tongs for dishing up, and forks to eat with. Bottles of vodka, juice and water were on offer to quench our thirst, as well as a pot of coffee for those who needed it.

"He cancelled. Something about his wife giving birth. Or her sister giving birth. I'm not sure," she said, shrugging.

Chae gave her a look that told me she didn't believe Taylor at all, but moved away from the subject by popping a few fries in her mouth.

"I'm getting tired of this job, to be honest. It's always the same thing all the time," Tay admitted, propping her chin on her palm.

I had to agree with her on that. She hadn't even been in the game as long as we have, but I could see it was taking a toll on her.

"How do you do it? Stay so sane, I mean?"

Chae shrugged, her expression contemplative. "I escape into my mind. Somehow, I'm able to detach from the moment while still being present enough not to be catatonic. One of the other girls told me about it, actually, and it's worked ever since."

Yara nodded drunkenly. Tay listened, processed the words and then nodded slowly. Her gaze flicked to mine briefly before lowering to the food on her plate. "Do you ever think you made a mistake? Taking a job as a hooker?"

There was a beat of silence as we all considered her question.

"Honestly, I wouldn't recommend it to others, and if I had a daughter, I wouldn't want her doing any of the s**t we do. I'm just using it as a means to an end," I said.

"Exactly. I want to open up my own restaurant. A fusion of Caribbean and Indian cuisine, in honour of my parents. Mama had this recipe book where she wrote down everything. It was basically the only thing they'd let me keep after they disowned me. There's a spot I've been eyeing over the past few weeks," Yara announced.

"Aw, does that mean you won't be working with us much longer?" I asked, pouting sadly at her. Yara laughed, leaning over to place her head on my shoulder. I kissed her forehead, with sauce on the corner of my mouth and everything, but she just smiled up at me endearingly.

"What about you, puddin' pop? What are your aspirations?"

For as long as I could remember, I have always been great with computers. I mean, f*****g amazing. My mother had enrolled me at some posh academy, where I beat every single one of those snobs to get the highest grade in my school's history for mathematics and computer sciences. Immediately after I graduated, I had offers from some of the best firms in the world, but my mother had advised me to get an education first.

At least, that's what I told everyone.

That I was kicked out of varsity for some stupid mistake, and every single one of those scholarships and job offers disappeared in a heartbeat. That I'd had to adjust my goals a little when I realised people would never hire me to work for them with the stain on my record.

My plan was to save up enough cash to open my own software development company one day. Already, I have two dozen businesses I designed cybersecurity programs for. Most of whom also happened to be clients of Le Petite Mort.

Yes, I was breaking Serrano's rules, but what he didn't know…

Chae shared that she had always wanted to have her own fashion line. A luxury brand that caters to the wealthy, with custom-made pieces for the exclusive clientele. She showed us a few of the designs she'd drawn, and we ooh-ed and ahh-ed at them like children in a candy store.

"I think the trick is to have goals and a life outside of this. You can't look at it as the end goal, you know. In five years, nobody will want to f**k us anymore. We'll be too old, even though we're not yet thirty," Chae said, and there was a murmur of agreement from everyone sitting at the table.

"What do you enjoy doing? Maybe we can help you narrow down what to do," I suggested.

"I've always loved helping people. My mother was a nurse and she enjoyed her job. Said it was always interesting. She wanted me to be a doctor, but I dropped out of college when she died because I couldn't afford tuition anymore," she responded, her tone wistful and sad.

Taylor's mother had been as good a parent as any, from what she'd told us. She had passed on after a long battle with kidney disease. The two had been very close, which was obvious from the way Tay still cried every few weeks.

"So why don't you start saving up for it? You only started a few months ago, and you're younger than the rest of us. You can keep the job so you have a stable income and somewhere to live. Selena could help rearrange your schedule to allow time for classes and exams. You can do it," I said.

She sat up suddenly, her expression beaming with the possibilities.

"Yeah? You think so?"

We all nodded, happy to see that she was thinking about a future that didn't involve pleasing men and suffering through their fantasies.

"You can do it, Tay. Just because we're working this job, doesn't mean we can't make something of ourselves. You just need to believe in yourself and work towards your goals every day," Chae says, wrapping an arm around the younger woman and squeezing her warmly.

Tay returned the hug with one of her own, her previously sombre expression replaced with one of hope. I looked at each of the women sitting at my table and smiled to myself, glad that we had somehow managed to find each other in this f****d-up, corrupt world. I prayed we'd always be in each other's lives, even after we all went our separate ways.