June shrugged this off and headed inside, hands laden with her own bags. The Manoir was its usual Sunday quiet. It should have been reassuring, but June couldn’t help but feel that something was amiss in the perfumed air.
Once she stepped upstairs and turned toward her room, she noticed a salon door open – and voices drifting out from within.
Everyone was in there. “Everyone,” meaning the other four girls and Monique, who was the only one sitting, her flats scattered on the floor in front of her. She was deep in discussion with the others, one hand absentmindedly rubbing her stomach while the other waved back and forth in front of Chelsea’s face.
“I had to do it last time,” the only blonde aside from June said. “It’s someone else’s turn to deal with that kind of client.”
“Make Holly do it,” Yvette grumbled. “She’s new, and the youngest. It’s not as creepy.”
“Excuse you!” Red curls bounced with fervor as Holly whipped around and gaped at Yvette’s face. “I may be the youngest, but that doesn’t mean you get to foist difficult clients on me. I get some say in it, right?” She turned back to Monique. “Right?”
“Of course, you all get a say in it.” Sighing, Monique pushed herself up in the chair, that business demeanor sullying the salon. “Nobody has to do anything that makes them feel uncomfortable. You all know that’s the first rule of my house.”
“It’s too uncomfortable to bear!” Yvette declared. “I absolutely refuse. Gross!”
Holly caught sight of June in the doorway. “June’s back! We’re saved.”
The named woman put her bags down and approached the group with trepidation. “What have I been volunteered for?”
Before anyone else could blurt out what was going on, Monique explained, “We have a Code White client downstairs.”
Certain situations that required absolute discretion were described in “Code Colors.” Code Black meant a demanding BDSM dominant. Code Blue meant someone with severe emotional hangups and trauma looking for sexual therapy. Code Green meant someone was sick.
Code White screamedvirgin.
It was not unusual for wealthy virgins to come up to the Manoir to take care of their perceived problem. Some expressed surprise when they found this out, for the rich should’ve been able to take care of it with no problem, regardless of how repugnant or otherwise shy they were. There were clients, however, who came from repressed backgrounds looking to start a new life or get experience before their arranged marriages.I once had a religious princess come all the way here for my tips after her betrothal was arranged. “Tips,” of course, meant thorough instruction on cunnilingus and G-spot search and rescue. In the end, Her Majesty was still hopeless.I tried.The fact that a religious woman had come toherhad not gone over June’s head, but she had long stopped attempting to discern why some people did what they did.
“What’s wrong with a virgin? Charge them extra like we always do.”
“It’s not any virgin, hon,” Grace said. “It’s Lenny Gretzky.”
“That name sounds familiar.”
“Because his father is Kyle Gretzky, the shipping magnate.”
“That guy! He’s been here before.”
“Yes. Now he’s brought his son. His freshly minted eighteen-year-old virginal son.”
“Oh…oh.” June paled. “Wait, you mean some guy brought his son here to lose his virginity? That’s really old school.”
Monique nodded. “Mr. Gretzky has asked for one of you fair ladies to help his son on his road to manhood. The boy is over eighteen, so it’s legal as long as we don’t serve him alcohol.”
“You said so yourself. He’s a boy.”
“You’ll do it, right, June?” Holly crossed her arms. “You always say you’ll take on anyone if the price is right.”
She groaned. “Don’t forget I have rules. Rule #3 isno teenagers.” She adopted that the day she turned thirty, and she would only break it for the biggest sum in the universe. Once clients became young enough to be her own kids, she was done with them. She’d deal with a forty-year-old, but eighteen was adult only in legalities. Even early twenties pushed it.Give me women like Sette and Miquela any day. They were both older than her. “So, no thank you. Besides, I have an appointment that I need to get ready for.”
“Be that as it may,” Monique said, “I still need someone to deal with this.”
“What definition of virginity are we talking here, anyway?” Grace asked.They say I’m a ho for money. Grace was the next most adventurous woman after June. Evenshehad her ethical limits, though. “Are we playing loose with third base counting as a score? Or a full homerun?”
“The way Mr. Gretzky described it, he didn’t come up here so his son could be teased.”
“What about senior Gretzky?” Grace asked. “I’m betting he wants something, too.”
“Not unless his son is getting some.”
