Page 17 of Unlock My Heart

With my backpack slung over my shoulder and a box containing my sewing machine, I make my way to the ticket counter. “Where is that bus going, the one that’s being loaded now?” I ask the attendant, realizing for the first time my knuckles are bleeding.

“Dallas, and on to New Orleans,” he says in an extremely bored tone.

New Orleans.

All the little hairs on the back of my neck are standing on end. This has to be a sign.

“One-way ticket to New Orleans, please.”

Soothing my grief with the creative process, I get to work threading my sewing machine Pfff. I blow a strand of hair that’s escaped my messy bun as I guide the cherry fabric through the path of my sewing machine needle.

The last stitch is finished, I try on my upcycle. Examining the once ill-fitting dress in the mirror, it’s been transformed into the cutest mini dress that ever was.

With a wide grin, I run my hand lovingly over the cherry fabric, checking myself out from every angle. Styling it with one heel and one combat boot, the heel is sexier, but the boot is more me, so I decide to go with the boots.

My phone buzzes, and I cross the tiny room and grab it from the charger. “Hello?”

“Cherry, this is Jade. I need you at the lounge in an hour,” she says in a rush.

“Why?”

“The auction has been moved to tonight.”

“Tonight? But I didn’t think it would be so soon,” I stammer, my heart skipping its next beat. “I didn’t have time to do any of the things⁠—”

“Shave your legs, slap on some lipstick, and get over here,” she instructs me.

“Alright, I’ll see you in an hour.”

The call ends, and I gently peel the dress over my head and kick off my mismatched footwear before racing for the shower.

The silver lining? There’s no time for me to overthink what I’m about to do.

Chapter Five

Sienna

Eighteen-years-old

Don’t throw up.

Turns out there is still plenty of time for me to overthink what I’m about to do.

Stale air tinged with cigar smoke permeates the basement of the hotel—a basement I didn’t even know existed—as I wait to be auctioned off to the highest bidder.

Why did I think this was a good idea again?

“Gentlemen, tonight I have a special treat,” Jade announces over the microphone as panic bubbles in my chest. “Let’s give a warm welcome to our newest hostess, Cherry.”

Oh shit, that’s me.

Forcing one foot in front of the other, I move from behind the curtain and walk to my mark discreetly sectioned with a small piece of tape. The stage lights are blinding, making it nearly impossible to see the faces in the crowd.

“Eighteen years old, Ms. Cherry is looking for someone to show her the ropes⁠—”

“I’ve got some rope,” a man calls, and laughter fills the room.

“But do you have the cash?” Jade counters. “Because our little cherry here is a virgin.”