Chapter 20
“A car will arrive at your dorms at 8 PM. It will take you to the Globe Hotel. You will go to room 640 where the client will be waiting. Dance for him until he is satisfied, then leave. Nothing more is expected of you.”
Those were the orders that were delivered down my phone to me. It wasn't Kyle who delivered the message, it was someone else, a voice I didn't recognize.
I dressed as Mrs Jones had instructed and waited in my dorm room. I didn't realize that I'd be sent off to dance away from the club like this. I'd thought that I'd simply be dancing in the club privately. But no, Mrs Jones had informed me to the contrary.
“The prized dancers don't work in the club, Alice,” she'd told me. “They are taken to private venues for private clients who prefer the anonymity of choosing the time and the place.”
“Don't worry,” she said, “noticing the concern on my face, “you'll be perfectly safe. Every client is carefully vetted to ensure that they are safe. If they pull anything they are dealt with accordingly, no matter who they are. They know not to mess with the girls.”
Her words had given me some reassurance but I still felt uncomfortable. Not only was I being carted off to a hotel room somewhere, but it was my first official paid dance. Talk about throwing me into the deep end.
I had no idea who the client was, I didn't even know his name. All I knew about him was what I could infer - that he was someone who liked to watch girls strip, and that he had money. I guess the first part of that in depth analysis applied to just about every man in the world!
I couldn't help but reach for a glass of wine as I sat waiting to settle the butterflies in my stomach. My room had changed over the last couple of weeks. I'd bought some new bedding and made an effort to glam the room up a bit, give it some color and life.
I looked over at the empty bed across from mine. No replacement for Jen had been found yet, so I continued to live alone, much to my relief, especially right now. I turned to a full body length mirror newly installed against the wall and drank in the reflection. I looked like Jen had that night when she left. In fact, it was almost like I'd taken her mantle, taken her life. My side of the room had blossomed into life as hers was, and I'd been recruited to work as she'd done. I wondered whether I'd pass the baton to my new room-mate, if ever she came.
I noticed a light outside and looked out the window. A car pulled up at the bottom of the stairs, its windows blacked out. “OK Alice,” I said to myself, “let's do this.”
I stepped from my dorm into a cacophony of noise outside of my room. My floor was alive with activity as girls and guys ran amok down the corridor, music blaring through doors, groups drinking in the hallway. It was typical for a Saturday night as everyone gathered into their cliques and prepared to go out into town, crash a floor party, or just stay in their dorms getting drunk and high.
A got a chorus of wolf whistles as I walked towards the staircase from a group of guys smoking weed outside a dorm down the hall. “Whoa Alice, who's the lucky guy!” one called upon seeing my outfit. “How about you join us instead, we'll show you a good time!” He high-fived his cronies as they erupted in laughter and cheers.
I stopped in front of them. “I think I'd be the one to show you a good time actually,” I said, stepping into character. It was the one Mrs Jones had taught me to portray - sexy, confident, provocative.
Their cheers grew louder as I walked off, their shouts howling at me as I descended the stairs. College boys are so easy.
I continued on out and into the car. There was a blacked out window blocking my view of the driver as I stepped in. He didn't say a word as the car quickly lurched forward. It was luxurious inside, the cream leather so smooth and comfortable and carrying that delicious smell. I opened a small compartment to find a selection of alcohol, filling a glass of whiskey to settle me further.
Mrs Jones' words were ringing in my ears as I took my first sip. “Never dance drunk, Alice. You need your wits. When drunk you lose control, and that only ever leads to shady paths.” She had a way of speaking that was so archaic, rarely using any sort of slang or modern colloquialisms.
I finished the drink despite her warnings as the car smoothly glided down the road. As I did the glass window separating me and the driver opened slightly and a voice came through the crack.
“No more drink,” the driver growled, his voice rough. I was slightly taken aback by his sudden intrusion.
I peered through the opening but could see little or him save a thatch of wavy hair beneath his drivers hat, obscured by a high collar. “Who are you to tell me that,” I asked, slightly indignant.
“We're here,” he grunted once more. “Room 640 - ask for Mr White.”
With that the glass window slid up once more as the car pulled to a halt outside of the Globe Hotel.
I stepped from the car without thinking and looked up at the hotel entrance. I'd driven past it before many times on my way to work, but the idea of going inside had never crossed my mind. The street was busy with traffic on theroad and sidewalk, people rushing this way and that looking for restaurants and bars on a cold Saturday night.
I walked towards the hotel and through the main entrance. Inside everything was dripping in money, in luxury, the walls adorned with beautiful large paintings, the floor marble, and the ceiling fixed with the largest chandelier I'd ever seen, it's hundred lights shining brightly to the floor below.
The concierge at the front eyed me as I walked in, his gaze suspicious. “Can I help you Miss?” he asked, keeping his look firmly to my face.
“I'm here to see Mr White,” I said confidently, “I believe he's in room 640.”
I saw his expression alter suddenly, a realization hitting him. “Oh, I see. Please, Raoul will escort you to the appropriate floor.”
He nodded over to a young man who came dashing over. “Raoul, please take Miss....?”
“Newton.”
“Please take Miss Newton to Mr White's room.” The boy nodded and walked briskly away. It seemed he didn't need to be told where this Mr White was staying. I wondered whether White was even his real name.
He seemed nervous as he operated the elevator, standing there twitching slightly and glancing over at me periodically. He looked to be only about 18, so it was probably a case of schoolboy lust.
At the 6th floor he stepped out and started off down the hall. “Raoul,” I called after him, “I'm sure I can find it from here.”
“Yes Miss Newton, apologies.” He turned back and pointed down the hall, his hand shaking slightly. “It's just down there.”
“Thanks,” I said as he backed into the elevator and hit the switch, his eyes on me until the doors shut tight.
I stepped forward in the quietness of the corridor and made my way towards room 640. I could feel my heat rate rising, the nerves beginning to override my forced calmness. This was it. It would be just me and him, no one else.
I reached the room and took a deep breath. OK Alice, here we go.