Yellow Dog Blues: The Club, #5

Big thanks to Jeff Falk for allowing me to use his song, YOUR WALL, in this novel as the song that Lyric and Maverick write together.

Jeff Falk is an independent rock artist from Oneonta, New York. He found his love for music and songwriting at the age of 14 and has continued his passion ever since. His goal is to one day write a song that will help someone, just as songs have helped him.

One

My hand shakes as I open the front door to The Club. 

I have no idea what I’m doing here. Am I really contemplating selling my body for money?

I consider turning around and trying to figure something else out, but I’ve exhausted nearly every option I can imagine.

My next door neighbor, Cali, referred me to The Club when she found me locked out of my apartment with an eviction notice plastered across my door.

Chad, my boyfriend of six years, decided to join the Peace Corps without telling me. He finally admitted he was leaving when I found him packing for his flight to Africa. He left me with an apartment I had no way to pay for and several months of utility bills that were past due.

Despite all of my best efforts to secure gainful employment I haven’t been able to find a job. Not even a nibble. Not even after a nationwide search.

I guess earning a Master’s degree in Creative Writing was much less marketable than I ever imagined it would be.

Out of complete and utter desperation I dialed the number on the black business card Cali gave me. The gruff woman who answered the phone asked me only two questions: how old I was and if I was a blonde. Then she told me to meet her at three pm, quickly spat out the address and hung up on me.

So here I am at five minutes to three, my heart practically pounding out of my chest, trying to convince myself to go inside.

You have no job and nowhere to live, I remind myself. Not to mention a six figure student loan that’s about to come due in a few months. How I’ll ever be able to afford those monthly payments is something I can’t even contemplate at the moment.

I take in a deep breath and force myself to go inside.

As nondescript as the exterior of the building is, the interior is in sharp contrast. It’s rich looking with dark wood everywhere. The décor reminds me one of those men’s clubs from the movies. One of those places that only admits rich old men and exudes an atmosphere of excessive wealth and old money.

The Club probably caters to the same demographic.

There’s a young woman standing behind a large mahogany desk. I expect her to give me some type of greeting, but she just stares at me with her big doe eyes.

As I get closer I realize just how tall she is. She towers over all five foot four of me. It would surprise me if she wasn’t some kind of model. She’s rail thin and has that emaciated look about her.

I have an appointment with Claudia.

I’m surprised that she doesn’t check an appointment book, or even an electronic calendar, until I realize there is absolutely nothing to check. The desk is completely bare.

Follow me, she says.

She doesn’t give me any time to reply. She takes off down a long hallway at a pace so brisk I practically have to run to keep up with her.

When we get to the door at the end of the hallway she turns to me and says, Go inside. Claudia is waiting for you.

Before I have a chance to reply she takes off back down the hallway leaving me alone with the drumbeat of my pounding heart.

It takes several impossibly long moments for me to gather enough courage to open the door to Claudia’s office.

I bite my bottom lip to keep myself from gasping when I enter the large space. Everything in the room is completely white. Even Claudia herself is dressed in an all-white outfit. The decor is in sharp contrast to the heavy and dark reception area.

She looks me up and down before she instructs me to take a seat.

Claudia’s voice is husky, like someone who has smoked cigarettes for twenty years. She looks like an older version of her receptionist. She’s rail thin, and could have probably been a model a few decades ago.

I sit down in the only seat in the room that isn’t occupied. It’s on the other side of Claudia’s desk directly in front of her.

I have a unique situation with a new client, she tells me. Normally we require clients to pay for at least six months in advance. This client insists on paying on a month-to-month basis. I like my girls to have a little more job security, at least six months per contract, but he’s willing to pay extra. You’re a cute blonde with a hot little body. I’ll have no problem making another more stable arrangement if things don’t work out with this client.

She definitely gets right to the point.

I already feel dizzy with emotion. The only guy I’ve ever been with is my ex-boyfriend. We met our freshman year of college and were together for six years. Now Claudia is talking about the possibility of selling me to not one, but two different men. I’ve barely wrapped my head around the idea of being paid to be with one guy.

He’s willing to fly you home immediately if things don’t work out.

Fly home? I mutter.

The client is located in Hawaii. You’ll have to sign a non-disclosure agreement before we can go any further with the negotiations because you will recognize his name.

Okay... I gulp. My head is spinning. I’ve never been outside of the Midwest.

She pushes a piece of paper in front of me along with a pen. I quickly glance over the document and wonder if I should actually take the time to read it. When I look up at Claudia her scowl says don’t waste any time. So I grab the pen and scribble my name on the bottom of the non-disclosure agreement.

Once Claudia snatches the paper from my hand, she says, My client is Maverick.

I choke.

Did she just say Maverick? As in the musician who had the biggest selling song my junior year of high school?

His music topped the charts for months. He was so popular with teens that Hollywood producers cast him in a movie with America’s sweetheart, Katie Lawrence. The two had zero chemistry together and they blamed the box office bomb on Maverick. Then his second album came out and it failed to gain traction. His downward spiral continued when his movie star fiancée dumped him after he made national headlines with three porn stars in a hot tub. The final blow was his DUI arrest. He completely disappeared after that.

That’s who she wants me to have sex with? A washed-up pop star? When he rose to fame the media portrayed him as an A-1 asshole.

She must see the hesitation in my eyes.

He’s willing to pay you eight thousand dollars for the month.

That’s a lot of money and I don’t have any other options at the moment.

How bad could it possibly be? My neighbor, Cali, made it sound like I’d be his mistress. Mistresses in movies are treated well. Candlelight dinners in secluded restaurants. Weekends in lovely hotels. And plenty of diamond jewelry.

At least he’s not old. Well not that old. Thirty.

I’ll need to get a few photos taken and sent to him. If he approves, we’ll do the paperwork and get you on birth control. I require all of my girls to get implants. No exceptions.

I nod. My ex and I always used condoms, but it’s probably better this way. There will be less chance of getting pregnant. That’s definitely not something I could deal with right now.

If my staff physician gives you a clean bill of health and your background check is clean I’ll have an airline ticket sent over.

My chest tightens. This is really happening.

Tell my receptionist, Cecilia, you’re ready for your photos. She’ll handle the rest.

When she stares at me I assume our conversation is over. Like the receptionist’s desk, Claudia’s is also completely bare. She doesn’t have a phone to call Cecilia so I guess that means I’m hoofing it. 

I hurry out of the office and back down the long hallway.

Cecilia is standing in the exact same spot she was in when I entered the building. I have to admit that both she and Claudia give me the creeps. Not just because they’re all business. They seem to have absolutely no emotions.

Instead of Stepford Wives, I’ll dub them the Stepford Madams.

Photos? she asks when I approach.

When I nod she bolts from the desk and hurries down the hallway. Once again I have to practically run to keep up with her.

The room she takes me to is small, more like a closet. There’s one stool in the middle of the room and photography equipment. That’s all.

I take a seat on the stool. When I look up at Cecilia she’s glaring at me.

You need to take your clothes off.

My eyes grow wide. I want to say, Seriously? but I can see by the stone mask her face has become that she’s very serious.

Our clients pay a lot of money for an arrangement. They need to see what they’re getting for their money.

That makes sense in theory, but I wasn’t expecting to have to pose sans clothing for a photo. Right here and right now. I’m not even wearing something sexy underneath my jeans and sweater. Plain Jane white panties and bra.

I take in a deep breath before I attempt to undress. My hands are shaking as I pull down my jeans. I kick off my ballet flats then slide my pants off. Then I remove my sweater.

There’s no place to actually put my clothes, so I leave them in a small pile next to me on the floor.

She points to my bra and panties. That’s not going to work at all. Take everything off.

When I take off my underwear and bra I feel really cold. Not that the temperature in the room changed, I think the reality of the situation has completely chilled me.

Try to look sexy, she tells me as she lifts the camera.

I put my index finger in my mouth and look up at the camera through my lashes. My ex always told me that when I bite my finger like that it turned him on.

It’s all I’ve got.

Cecilia seems pleased. She snaps several shots then tells me to get dressed.

That could be the most humiliating thing I’ve ever done.

Once my clothes are back on I follow Cecilia as she returns to the reception area. She removes a large white envelope from somewhere below her desk and hands it to me.

Fill out these papers and bring them back as quickly as possible so we can conduct a background check. You’ll also find instructions for visiting our staff physician.

And that’s it. Cecilia stares at me until I feel so uncomfortable that I assume it’s time for me to leave.

***

My parents were not supportive of my pursuit of a graduate degree in Creative Writing. They said it was a waste of time and money. In retrospect maybe I should have given their advice a little more consideration. Neither of my parents attended college so they didn’t understand my choices. Their idea of a bright future for their daughter was finding me a husband as quickly as possible. One who was like them: a farmer.

Going back to the farm to live with my parents would definitely be a last resort. After all of the I-told-you-so speeches I’d be strongly encouraged to marry a son of one of their friends. I’d spend my life the exact same way my parents did, and the way their parents did before them.

I never wanted that life, which is why I left home for college in the first place. I wanted something different, something better for myself. I didn’t want to be just a farmer’s wife.

What I have now is apparently a completely useless graduate degree plus an enormous student loan debt I’ll have to sell my body to pay.

Luckily Sadie, one of my best friends from graduate school, is letting me stay with her at her parents’ place while they’re away in Europe. I’m not completely homeless yet.

And if things work out with The Club I’ll have enough money to get back on my feet again.

Sadie’s parents have a modest home in one of the many suburbs of the city. I’m staying in her brother’s bedroom. After he left for college her parents decided to redecorate it, but they put the project on hold until they get back from their trip.

The room is like a Star Wars shrine.

A huge Darth Vader figurine stares down at me from the corner of the desk as I fill out all of the paperwork that Cecilia handed me. It’s extremely detailed. Not only do I have to list all of my previous employment, and my educational achievements, I also have to discuss in detail my past sexual experiences. 

Once I have all of the paperwork completed I turn on the desktop computer to do a little research.

I do a search for Maverick to see if there is any recent information about him.

There’s some speculation as to his whereabouts and a few Where are They Now articles, but nothing substantial has been written about him in the last few years.

The guy seemed to have some talent. He had a great voice, and he wrote all of his own music. He was definitely charismatic, at least when he was in his early twenties, at the height of his popularity.

I think the fame inflated his ego to the point of no return.

Abby Gayle, his former fiancée, is now married to an LA Laker. In a recent interview in which she’s plugging her new movie, she gushes about her husband, the love of her life, and how Maverick taught her about everything she didn’t want in a relationship.

That’s a scathing remark.

I have to admit that I had a bit of a crush on Maverick when I was a teenager. I thought he had the most delicious looking chocolate brown eyes I’d ever seen. His dark brown hair always looked a bit tousled, like he had just gotten out of bed. I’m sure it was intentional; to make girls immediately associate him with sex.

There’s a light tap on the bedroom door before Sadie opens it. I hope I’m not disturbing you.

Not at all. I just got finished filling out some paperwork for a new job.

I’m glad you finally found something. When Sadie smiles her big blue eyes always light up.

I haven’t exactly told her what my new job entails yet, and luckily she hasn’t asked. I don’t think she’d approve.

I have some good news myself. I landed a job at a publishing house. It’s an entry level editorial assistant, so I won’t be paid much, but I will be supervising the interns, so it will feel like a higher level position than it actually is.

That’s terrific. When do you start?

Next week. I was hoping we could go out and celebrate this weekend. Girls’ night out. We haven’t done that in a while.

Sure, I tell her. I can’t imagine that Claudia will have the