Throwaway

Throwaway

by: Heather Huffman

Smashwords Edition

* * * * *

Throwaway

Copyright © 2010 Heather Bodendieck

Cover Image Copyright © 2010 Emily Stoltz

All rights reserved. Without limiting the
rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication
may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system,
or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic,
mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the
prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above
publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the
author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author
acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various
products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used
without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not
authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark
owners.

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* * * * *

To Emily Stoltz & Erica Fitzgerald—God
blessed me with two amazing sisters through blood and then two more
when I met you. I would never have continued writing without your
encouragement. This book is possible because of you. Thank you.

* * * * *

It was the kind of gray day that made Jessie
glad she didn’t have a regular nine-to-five job. She took one look
at the overcast St. Louis sky and crawled back into bed. There
might be no power on earth that could make her grateful for the job
she had, but she could be glad for what it wasn’t.

She had nearly dozed off again when there was
a knock at the door. She reminded herself the roommate she’d been
assigned was little more than a scared kid. That fact alone kept
her from throwing something heavy at the door.

“Give me five minutes and I’ll meet you
downstairs,” Jessie called to the willowy brunette she knew would
be on the other side before pulling herself out of bed with an
exaggerated sigh. She stretched and padded barefoot to her
bathroom, cringing a little at the sight of the rat’s nest in her
platinum blonde hair. She gingerly worked a brush through it,
trying to remember the color it had been. Before.

Just like she did every morning, Jessie
stared intently at her face in the mirror, searching for any signs
of a wrinkle. Her baby doll face and large blue eyes made her look
quite a bit younger than thirty-two, but the day when she couldn’t
mask her age was creeping ever closer.

That was a day she didn’t want to think
about. Somehow she doubted Spence would put her out to pasture.
That sounded much too pleasant.

“Jess, are you ready? I’ll walk down with
you,” Harmony called.

“Sorry. Give me one more minute,” Jessie
quickly changed for her daily workout. She knew Spence well enough
to know that as long as he desired her, he’d keep her around. Her
lithesome, leggy body was one card in her favor—even if she was
ancient by street standards.

“I made you a smoothie,” Harmony was waiting
at the front door, holding a glass out.

“Thanks,” Jessie took the offering with a
smile. “How was class this morning?”

“Fascinating,” Harmony lit up and instantly
dove into a dissertation on the merits of studying quantum physics
over just plain old mechanics. Jessie didn’t even try to keep up,
she just smiled and nodded.

Harmony was different than the rest of the
girls. Even Spence saw that. She was there to pay for school and
she’d move on when the time was right. For some reason, Spence
would let her. Jessie believed him when he said he would.

Not Jessie. She was a lifer. He’d made that
much clear since the day he took her under his wing nearly fifteen
years before. She pushed memories of before from her mind, gulping
down the rest of her smoothie so she could beat an old lady to the
last bicycle.

Jessie pretended not to notice the dirty look
she got in return. She’d made the mistake of deferring to age once
and the woman had stayed on the bike for a full forty five-minutes.
Not this time.

Other than dodging the hate glares from the
old lady, Jessie enjoyed her workout. There was something very
cathartic about stretching her muscles to their very limits. The
sweat, the pain, the test of endurance… they felt good. They
cleared her mind.

That evening, as she carefully applied her
mascara before work, Harmony settled in on the countertop beside
Jessie’s makeup bag.

“Do you ever wish you’d gotten married and
had kids?”

“Not really,” Jessie answered without
thinking. “What brought this on?”

“I don’t know. I guess I just wonder
sometimes if I’ll ever get to do those things,” Harmony seemed
embarrassed by the admission.

“I don’t think we’re missing much.”

“Really?”

“The way I see it, we have a husband.
Sometimes we even have several husbands in the same night.”

“I don’t think a john is quite the same.”

“Have you heard how the suburbanites talk
about their husbands?” Jessie routed through her bag for her
favorite lipstick. “They count tiles on the ceiling. They make
grocery lists in their heads. They think their husbands are too
smelly, too fat, too predictable….”

“You can’t write off the entire notion of
love based on a couple of sexually frustrated moms in Bread
Company.”

“How do you know I’m talking about those
women in Bread Co?”

“I was with you, I heard their conversation,
too,” Harmony reminded her.

“I bet their husbands are about as nice to
them as johns are to us,” Jessie got in one last barb before
relenting. “But if anyone can find the one love story this world
has left to offer, it’s you sweetie.”

“I think this old world has one up its sleeve
for you, too.”

“Sure thing,” Jessie didn’t believe it for
one second. She was the very definition of used goods. But arguing
that with Harmony wasn’t going to accomplish anything beyond hurt
feelings, so she let it go.

They locked up and went to hop the Metrolink
across the bridge. East St. Louis was much more tolerant of their
livelihood than its neighbor to the west. It didn’t matter much to
Jessie which side of the river she worked on. Her clients were
happy to follow her across the Poplar Street Bridge and she liked
staying out of jail.

A sleek black car pulled up alongside them
and the tinted window slid down. “Ladies, looking lovely as
always.”

“Hey Spence,” Jessie smiled saucily,
wondering if there would ever be a day when her stomach didn’t
tighten just a little when she saw him. She learned a long time ago
how to keep that feeling from showing.

“Hey Spence,” Harmony’s eyes didn’t quite
mask her own unease.

“Join me for a minute, girls.”

“You’re going to make us miss our ride,”
Jessie didn’t like the look on his face.

“I am your ride,” he motioned for them to
join him again and this time they relented.

“New car?” Jessie made conversation as she
eased into the seat beside him.

“You like it?”

“It’s great.”

“What’s up?” Harmony didn’t seem inclined to
discuss Spence’s new Mercedes S600. Jessie preferred not to think
how many nights she’d worked to buy the car they were sitting
in.

“You two get to be part of an experiment,”
his eyes lit up as if they should be happy with his words.

“How so?” Jessie was almost afraid to
ask.

“Downtown is coming to life again. I’d like
you ladies to work this side of the river tonight.”

“We’ll get picked up by the cops in five
minutes. You know that.”

“Don’t tell me what I know,” anger flashed
across his face before being replaced with a beseeching expression.
“Come on. You are my two classiest girls. If anyone can fly under
the cops’ radar, it’s you. Just go hang out in a few bars tonight.
Have a drink or two on me. Get a feel for it. Then we can talk
about it tomorrow. Okay?”

“Okay,” Jessie agreed hesitantly, her eyes
meeting a pair of hazel eyes in the rearview mirror. It wasn’t like
Spence to be reasonable. He must need something from them. Besides
testing the waters west of the bridge, that is. If anyone would
know, it would be Vance. As Spence’s guard, he’d be privy to what
was really going on. If Jessie could get him alone, he’d probably
tell her. Friends might be a strong word, but Vance and Jessie
looked out for each other.

“Sure Spence,” Harmony grudgingly agreed as
well, following Jessie’s lead.

“That’s my girls,” he planted a kiss on
Jessie, his hand running up her leg. The car pulled into a garage
on the riverfront.

“Looks like our stop,” Harmony bolted out the
door the second the car was parked.

“See you tomorrow,” Jessie was right behind
her.

“You girls be careful. And have fun,” Spence
thrust a wad of bills at Jessie before the car peeled out, leaving
the two women to stare at each other incredulously.

“What just happened?” Harmony was the first
to speak.

“I have no idea,” Jessie shook her head.
“He’s up to something. He must want eyes on these streets for some
reason. Let’s stay close to each other, eh?”

“I’m okay with that.”

“Tonight, we’re just a couple of girls out
for girls’ night. We’ll go dancing, hit a few bars… and we’ll go
from there tomorrow.”

“Jessie?”

“Yeah baby girl?”

“I’m not twenty-one.”

“Crap, I forgot. You are eighteen,
right?”

“Nineteen,” she seemed to stand up a little
straighter.

“Alright. Just stick close. But you’re not
drinking—got it?”

“Fine with me,” Harmony wrinkled her nose and
Jessie was briefly overwhelmed by just how young her roommate
was.

With good enough legs and sufficient
attitude, they didn’t have much problem getting passed the gorillas
at the door at Club Aruba. Harmony drank orange juice; Jessie stuck
with a light beer.

Despite her concerns Spence was up to
something that was going to land her in jail, Jessie had to admit
she was looking forward to a night off. If not a night off, per se,
at least a change of duties.

She and Harmony alternated between dancing
and hanging out in the lounge, neither seeing much of anything that
should interest Spence. No cops, no competition, not even a
thriving drug scene that particular night—which was a little
surprising. Just a whole lot of drunken kids and desperate looking
men. If the desperate looking men had any money, maybe they would
interest Spence, but Jessie doubted they did.

It didn’t take them long to be sick of Club
Aruba. They wandered in and out of other bars. The Drunken Sailor
held their interest for a while, but neither knew what they were
supposed to be looking for.

“Wanna try Memphis Blues?” Jessie suggested,
not really sure why.

“But Spence dropped us on the Landing.”

“And we’ve been up and down it. Call it a
hunch. It’s not that far.”

“You don’t think Spence’ll be mad?”

“If he is, it’ll be at me and he always gets
over it.”

“I don’t want him to hurt you, either.”

“He won’t hurt me,” Jessie replied with more
conviction than she felt. Sometimes when she had a night off—a real
night off—she’d hang out at Memphis Blues. If she wasn’t at
O’Malley’s, that is. It wasn’t too far from their apartment on
Cherokee and they had a respectable beer selection and better
music. There was something about a good blues or rockabilly beat
that could massage away the tension in her body.

“Jessie girl, you’re looking fine tonight,”
the bartender greeted her with a broad grin.

“Hey Chad,” she accepted the beer he extended
to her. “What can I say, it’s girls’ night.”

“What can I get you, kid?” he nodded to
Harmony.

“Ice water with a twist of lemon?” She looked
like she’d had enough orange juice to last her for a while.

“Sure thing,” he smiled a little and turned
his attention back to Jessie. “Wow, really—you look amazing
tonight.”

“I clean up okay I guess,” Jessie tried to
shrug off the attention. Maybe this was a bad idea. She usually
came in wearing jeans and a t-shirt with her hair in a ponytail.
Now that Chad realized she was a girl, she wouldn’t be able to hang
out undisturbed. Oh well, she told herself, the damage was done.
She might as well enjoy the music while she was here.