September Wind (24 page)

             
Then he reached into his pants and pulled out a leather strap from a special pocket, or something.

             
She gasped.

             
He stretched his arm out. “Go on, take it.”

             
She stared, dumbfounded.

             
He moved closer. “Take it.”

             
She sat up, clutching the covers.

             
“
Take it. Please.”

             
She reached for the leather strap, thinking it was better with her than with him.

             
He turned around and as he walked across the room, she noticed several scars across his back. When he reached the corner, he placed a hand on each wall and turned his head to the side.

             
“
Go on, give it to me good. Whip me with all you’ve got. I deserve it.”

             
“
What? What are you talking about?”

             
She tossed the strap aside, rolled out of bed, and began to gather up her clothes.

             
“
Whip me good, young lady. Whip me like you hate my guts.”

             
“
Please get out of here,” she said, kicking her nylons aside.

She went into the closet and peeked out, irritated he wasn’t making any attempt to leave. “Put your shirt on and take that
thing
out of here, you wretched little man.”

She waited for him to pull himself off the wall, and then slammed the closet door. “Hurry it up. Please?”

              “ …
Uhm. Sorry for calling you wretched. It’s just that...”

             
Her bedroom door closed, and she rushed out of the closet and turned the lock.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Emily slept until noon the next day, which didn’t seem right, not after getting up at five and six and sometimes earlier most of her life; although, it was apparent that waking up without a hangover was much easier.

              When she went down to breakfast, everyone was in the kitchen. Felece, Angellee, Ginger, and Blossom were sitting at the table in flimsy nightgowns. Desirae sat on a countertop in a man’s black dress shirt, sipping hot chocolate from her mug. They all seemed to be in good spirits, and except for their attire, no one would suspect they were prostitutes.

             
Toni was in her element. “Grab yourself a coffee, Emily.” She picked up a plate with one hand and flipped pancakes with the other. Emily mumbled a good morning to everyone, poured coffee, then took several gulps to clear the fuzz. She took the plate from Toni and went to find a seat.

             
“
So, Emily,” Desirae said, setting her mug aside. “I was just telling the girls I think you should be the official Palace dancer.”

Blossom moved her plate over to make room for Emily’s. “You do have some unique moves like I ain’t
never
seen. You danced anywhere before?”

“You serious?” Emily poured syrup, smiling at the girls. They just smiled back and nodded. “Okay, well… in the kitchen, and sometimes up in my bedroom.”

              Desirae slid from the counter and did a pirouette across the room. “Once in a while just for fun, I dance uptown. There’s a couple of girls from here that go along.”

             
Felece rolled her eyes. “Oh sure, ballet. If you want the truth, Emily, I don’t recommend it. Did you guys hear that Jasmine was arrested the night before last…?”

             
As the girls talked, Emily decided that dancing would be far better than going up with the men.

             
After breakfast, she went to Beatrice’s office.

             
“
Some of the girls mentioned I should be the official dancer here,” she told Beatrice.

             
“
Ha. Dance all you want, get on a table if you like. But if one of the men wants to take you up to your room, you go.”

             
Emily was disappointed, but didn’t make a fuss. She would just have to figure a way to get through this—preferably out the door and as far away as possible.

             
“Oh, and by the way, Emily. Next Friday there’s a big party in the loft. I think you’ll be ready by then.”

             
She almost asked what was so special about the loft, but didn’t really want to know. If she was still there, wasn’t with Samuel by then, drinking herself into a stupor would get her through the ordeal. Even though this could well be true, her thoughts startled her. She saw herself changing, accepting what she’d wanted to run from—she had to. Yet, inside, where it really counted, in some ways she was still that eight-year-old girl stealing away to her bedroom to play with her doll. It just didn’t feel that way anymore.

The next night, the first person she noticed was Felece with a small crowd of people. “Hold on, Emily,” she said leaping from her chair.

Emily picked a drink off a tray and kept walking as Felece came up beside her. “Listen, girl, Sunday is the big night for gambling. You interested in joining us? Some of us are gonna finish the party up in the loft.”

Emily stopped and looked back at the group. “Auh… I’m not much of a card player.”

              “
Oh, come on. You have to join in sooner or later. I’ll teach you.”

             
“
Well, maybe next week.” Maybe by then she’d be gone.

             
Felece returned to her group, seeming slightly perturbed.

             
Emily emptied her glass, picking up a fresh drink as she headed back to the bar. A couple of men sat at a table near the back wall, but there was no sign of Erich.

             
She ordered a brandy, and was starting to feel the alcohol lift her spirits when one of the men came over—the big one. He set his drink on the counter and took a seat next to her. She’d heard the other man call him Moose. She guessed, with his green eyes, nicely shaped face, and blond wavy hair, most would consider him nice-looking.

He took a drink, set the glass aside, and then turned in his chair with an expression that said he had something important to tell her. “When I saw you on the dance floor last night, I just
knew
it was meant to be.”

She didn’t want to answer him, wanted to look away, but she felt cornered. “W-what was meant to be?”

              “
Us,” he said. He moved a finger slowly from her, to him. “Us. I knew it the minute I saw you, and I haven’t stopped thinking about you since.”

             
She smiled politely, picked up her drink, and finished it off.

             
“
Hey, Abe,” Moose said, tapping the counter with his knuckles, “we need a drink here. Make ’em doubles.”

He turned back, moving so that his knees pressed against her leg. His hand slid onto her thigh. She looked down, “Uhmm…” and then up at him.

“I haven’t felt like this in a long time,” he said before she could protest. “Know what it feels like to… to really want someone?”

She was too stunned to move.

When Abe came over with the drinks, she pulled her eyes away, picked up the glass, and took several gulps.

“I heard you were new in town, Emily. Heard you were new at this.  Well… I’ve got plans for us.” His voice was softer now, as if that would convince her they were going to share something lovely. His hand moved up and down her thigh. “Would you like me to fill you in?”

              The brandy made it a little easier for her to play along. “Okay.” She swallowed, forcing herself to look at him. “If you’d like.”

“Maybe we should go up to your room so we can discuss it in private.”

              No!
She turned away in horror. She couldn’t do it, not ever. No matter how gently he spoke to her. There was so much of him that reminded her of Claude. The way his eyes burned into hers, the tone of his voice, and his shoulders wide, ready to pounce on her.

“Another night, I will,” she told him, glancing over for a moment. “But tonight, well, I’ve got this problem.” The problem being that she didn’t want to go up with him. This little fib had worked with Claude a time or two.

              Moose squeezed her thigh. “You promise.” This wasn’t a request, but a command. And as sick as it made her, she nodded that she did.

             
“
I’ll be waiting,” he said. He sat back and watched her take another drink. “Say, your little
problem
won’t keep you from giving me and Sam a little dance, will it?”

So, his friend’s name was Sam. She had noticed him several times sitting over there so gentlemanly, quietly sipping his drink.

              “
Think I’ll check you out so you can dance your heart out. I’ll head over right now and make it official.”

             
“
Make it official?”

             
“
That’s right. Each time we sign out one of the girls, the Palace collects more money. And, well... if you do your dance for us, once you and I take a trip upstairs, I’ll make sure to leave you a nice bonus.”

             
“
So that’s how it works.” Desirae had mentioned something about that, but hadn’t gone into detail.

             
Emily was relieved when Moose left her and headed across the room. Even more so, when she noticed one of the girls latch onto him.

             
Smoke Gets In Your Eyes
began to play on the Jukebox, which instantly filled her with the miserable pain that came whenever she thought of Michael. She couldn’t understand why she still yearned for him. He had taken her heart and crushed it like a bug.

“Abe. Make it a double, please.”

He brought her drink and she took it down slower now as she watched the band set up; the juke went silent, and they began to play. Couples meandered onto the dance floor. The room was filled with laughter and thoughtless conversation. By the time she finished her brandy and ordered another, the alcohol had done its job and awakened something inside of her that couldn’t be ignored.

             
She picked up her glass and turned back to watch the couples dance, unable to stop herself from moving along to the rhythm and the beat of the sultry music. Another sip and then a delicious burn sizzled through her veins like a wildfire. It was incredible how fast things could change. She glanced over at Sam and could no longer deny the stirring in the pit of her stomach.

When she couldn’t hold back any longer, her new self slid off the stool. She let the music take her where it pleased, the beat finding its way into the grains of her flesh, spreading like hot flames as she swayed and twisted.

              She noticed Sam watching her, and moved closer. What a handsome man he was. Blame it on the drinks. Blame it on those eyes that pulled her in, it made no difference. She loved her new self and she didn’t want to lose a bit of the sensation.

             
His deep blue eyes wouldn’t let her go, and so she went to him.

             
He stood, took her hand and began to sway with her. When the band moved into a slower melody, Sam pulled her onto the dance floor, folding his arms around her. She placed her head against his chest. She felt safe.

             
“
You dance with such passion,” he said. “Where does that come from?”

             
She looked up. “The music.” She smiled. “The drink. Both?”

             
He brushed a wisp of hair from her face. Then he kissed her nose at the brow, her eyes, and slowly about the face. “I want you, Emily. I really want you.”

The sound of his voice and his breath against her cheek sent goosebumps tingling down her spine. He pulled her closer and they moved together as if they had danced before. She was happy again. Then, for no reason, she felt sad to think this would end. But, maybe it wouldn’t.

He lifted her chin, wiped a tear from her cheek, and then bent to kiss her. His urgency surprised her, not only because of its intensity, but mostly because she wanted more.

“You’re beautiful,” he said.

And when the music stopped, he took her hand and they passed Moose as they left the lounge and went upstairs.

Sam loved her that night. She felt it in every fiber of her being. For the time, she didn’t have a care in the world except for the moment... with her old self nowhere to be found.

* * * *

Before her eyes opened the next morning, Sam was on her mind. She sat up, but of course, he was gone. She noticed a pile of bills on the table. The money was a reminder that whatever had happened between them, whatever feelings she had, didn’t matter. After last night, she was nothing but a pathetic whore, and in most eyes, probably had been for years. No decent man would ever want her for keeps. She lay back, feeling empty, the booze not so friendly now, and thoughts of Sam squeezing out every last bit of happiness.

              She wanted to throw the covers over her head and sob. Although, she knew that would just make things worse. She forced herself out of bed and went to take a shower. It perked her up enough so that she dressed, and went down to the kitchen, planning on a hearty breakfast. Toni had scolded her several times because she wasn’t eating, and she wasn’t in the mood for another lecture. Still, she had to admit, the woman’s attention pleased her.

             
Toni gave her a good looking over when she walked in, several ta ta’s, and then turned back to the stove. “I’ll bet you’ve lost five pounds since you got here, Emily. Soon you won’t have the energy to climb the stairs.”

Emily chuckled. “I’ve got plenty of energy, Toni.  Haven’t you heard?”

              Toni smiled suggestively.

             
“
Dancing. Dancing, Toni. I’d far rather do that than climb those stairs.”

             
She pulled down a plate and handed it to Toni, letting her room, planning to finish everything off, but when she picked up her fork, she had to force it down. She wrapped the leftovers in a paper sack and stuffed it at the bottom of the garbage can, and then put the empty tray into the hallway.

             
She locked her door and lay across the bed with a book, although she couldn’t get past the first few words before her mind wandered back to Sam. If only he had wakened her before he left, and reassured her. If only she had never seen Maxine. If only Michael hadn’t betrayed her. If only she had never run into Claude that morning.

Her regrets were unbearable, and she began to think of the glasses of cool drink downstairs waiting to give her a lift. She took a deep breath and smiled, imagining the potent aroma of brandy, its tang sliding over her tongue and down her throat into her veins where it would saturate every cell of her body and make her happy again.