Page 300 of Summer Heat
Oh God, this Saturday.
“How much money will you earn?” he says easily. “It depends on the tenor of the evening, how high we can push the bidding. I think you’re looking at a couple hundred thousand, at least.”
“A couple hundred…” My voice trails off, and I feel faint. At one time those kinds of numbers wouldn’t have fazed me. There were savings accounts and investment funds galore. All of that has evaporated into nothing. A couple hundred thousand dollars would pay the real estate bill several times over. I’d be able to keep the house and pay for a full-time nurse.
“Maybe more. We’ll have to play it by ear.” I can hear his smile over the phone. “Naturally I want my percentage to be as high as possible.”
“Naturally,” I say, still feeling faint. I guess this is what hope feels like. “And they won’t…they won’t hurt me?”
I can’t forget what the man said to me in the narrow hallway, about my father’s enemies taking recompense out of my skin. How much can I endure for a month? Sex, definitely. But pain?
“Look, I won’t lie to you,” he says. “Some of the men attending dabble in some of the more…daring sexual activities, I’ll say. It’s a natural consequence of dealing with rich men, with too much time and money on their hand
s to be content with plain old vanilla.”
Does he count himself in that group? Probably. I press my hand to my eyes, trying not to imagine him doing things that are daring. I especially don’t want to imagine Gabriel Miller doing anything at all.
“There have to be boundaries, right?”
“Of course. You’ll be the same girl coming out that you were going in. Nothing permanently harmed or changed. Except for one small portion of your anatomy.”
The air in the pantry seems to get thinner. “I see.”
“Don’t worry. A hymen is more rare around here than whips or chains could ever be. Hopefully you’ll keep them entertained for the whole month.”
“Whips and…chains?” My stomach clenches hard.
“Well, the auction begins at nine p.m. We’ll start the drinks flowing before that to make sure they’re loose with their wallets. You should arrive by seven to get you ready.”
Two hours is a long time to get dressed. “Are you sure I need—”
“I’m sure,” he says, almost cheerful. “I’ll see you then.”
The click over the line seals my fate.
CHAPTER TEN
In ancient mythology the Minotaur was a creature with the head of a bull and the body of a man. He lived at the center of a maze. Athens had to send seven young men and seven unwed girls as a sacrifice on a ship.
In my case the maze is the Den, which looms high in the dusky sky, orange rays of sunset split by the intricate turrets. There’s only one sacrifice this Saturday night.
Someone waits at the curb to take my keys. I wobble on my heels for only a moment before catching myself. The last thing I need are skinned knees as I go in front of the wealthiest men in the city. Then I’m standing in the foyer, marveling as people bustle around. I hadn’t quite realized how much of a production this would be, but with that much money on the line, it makes sense. My stomach pitches with nerves because I’m going to be at the center of this hurricane.
Damon emerges from a door, looking sharp in a three-piece suit. He’s one of many turns I’ll take tonight, going deeper into the maze. Only at the end will I find out who’s won the auction. Only then will I meet the Minotaur.
“The woman of the evening,” he says warmly.
A shiver runs through me. That sounds ominous. I force myself to smile. “I’m not sure it will take me two hours to get ready, though.”
He laughs. “Candy asked for the whole day. I told her she’d have to make do.”
“Candy?”
“Ivan’s girl. She’ll be the one taking care of you.”
Ivan Tabakov? I’ve heard his name spoken, but only in whispers. And didn’t his wife used to strip at one of his clubs? I guess I couldn’t ask for a better guide in the art of selling sex to dangerous men, but I’m almost more afraid of her than the men. This is a different world, requiring a different set of skills than the ones I’ve been building my whole life.
He directs me up the stairs and into the room where the photographs were taken.
