Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Even if my urges never brought me to the edge of desperation like that, I understand the feeling.
Whores are trained to play off emotions. They’re trained to trick you into believing they give a fuck so you’ll open up to them. If not emotionally, then opening your wallet will do. So you can’t trust anything they say. Even if this girl was truly interested in me, it would take a lot of convincing for me to believe it.
Of course, as a whore, she knows this. Which means she knows just what to say next. “I thought about you this week.”
I don’t answer, because it’s bullshit. But she doesn’t wait for an answer anyway, just slips behind the bar and brings out a real bottle of whiskey, not moonshine.
She comes back over my way and points to the couch. “Let’s start here.” Then she sets the bottle down next to a little tray holding two shot glasses and makes herself comfortable in the corner cushions of the couch. She’s not wearing much, just a bra with lots of long fringe and some matching panties. So when she sits, the fringe parts in many ways, making her look more exposed.
Everything about whores is planned, I remind myself. She put this outfit on this morning for a reason, and that reason is to trick men into giving her more money than they should.
But I’ve already given her a fifty, so I figure there’s no harm in sticking around for a little show.
“Pour us a drink,” she says. “And relax a little.”
I eye the bottle, but don’t reach for it. I do, however, sit down. Not quite all the way over on the opposite side of her, but very nearly.
She chuckles. “Are you afraid of me?”
“No. I’m just trying to send all the right signals.”
“Well, you’re doing a horrible job, because I’m thoroughly confused. Do you not want a drink? You didn’t pour.”
“It’s like nine-thirty in the morning. No, I don’t want a drink.”
“So why did you come in here with me? I’m only asking because I’m starting to think you’re not here for sex, either.”
“I’m not.”
She scoffs. “So what do you want?”
I lean back into the cushions and sigh.
“Oh,” she says. “I get it. You’re one of those talkers.”
Which makes me actually laugh. “No. I’m really not.” I glance at her now, with a side-eye. “I’m way more interested in listening.”
“Hmmm.” She’s studying me intently. “That’s interesting.”
“Why?”
“You want me to talk?” She points to herself.
I shrug. “Maybe I just like looking at you? Maybe I’m just a watcher?”
She laughs. And it’s real too. “You want me to find a partner so you can—?”
“Sex. Is that really all you think about? I mean, you’ve never heard of people-watching?”
A breath comes out of her, but I can’t tell if it’s resignation or frustration. One of the two, for sure. “Look, you spent fifty bucks, so if you just wanna watch me sit here watching you, it’s all good with me.”
“Everything’s all good with you, isn’t it? You’re the most agreeable woman in the world, aren’t you?”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It’s not a bad thing if you’re partners with someone. But a stranger? Yeah, that’s just fuckin’ suspicious.”
“What’s that mean? You think I’m trying to trap you or something?”
“Darlin’, I don’t know who you are, but it’s blatantly obvious that you have no clue who I am.”
“Tell me then, who are you?”
My laugh is nearly a guffaw. “Why?” I point to the ceiling. “So you can get it all on vid? I work for Edge Security. And yeah, I’m new there, but I earned the right to be part of an operation like that many, many years ago. There are seventeen cameras in here that I can see. Each of them has a microphone, but if I were to take a closer look at, say… the lamps, or that screen on the wall, I’m sure I’d find a few more. So while your little ploy might work on other people, it’s not gonna work on me. And you know what? That sucks. Because I thought about you all week.” I shake my head here. “Stupid, I know, since you’re nothing but a whore. But you’re pretty and if we were friends, you’d probably be very easy to talk to. So it’s a bit disappointin’ that just a few minutes in, you’ve proven yourself to be exactly what I first thought you were and nothing like the person I hoped you’d be.”
I get up and start for the door.
“Wait!” She hurriedly follows me, placing a hand on my arm as I turn the handle. “Don’t go.”
I look over my shoulder at her. “Don’t go? Why the hell would I stay? This place is… weird. Cool, I guess, but weird. And maybe you get that, or maybe you don’t. Maybe you’re some poor single mother just doing her best to make ends meet, so you don’t bother looking real hard at things, but either way,”—I grab her hand and slide it off my arm—“I won’t be back.”