Gigolo Girl Read online

  “Was that Desiree?”

  “Yep, she did a dive and dash on her last client. She’s waiting for you.”

  Candy Sweet screeched to a stop and eased to the curb. Desiree must have been in the lobby because she came running out. She threw open Mildred’s door. “Are you all right?” Desiree asked, breathlessly.

  Mildred nodded and got out of the car. She was so relieved to see Desiree she fell into her arms and burst into tears.

  “What happened?” Desiree asked Candy Sweet.

  “Well, she lost her shoe for starters,” Candy Sweet replied, holding up the single Jimmy Choo. “And then she proceeded to taser Lucy’s vagina.”

  “Holy shit!” Desiree said.

  “Mmmhmmm,” Candy Sweet said. She pulled her little car away from the curb, muttering under her breath, “Not my circus, not my monkeys.”

  Staff Meeting

  Honey Belle was holding court in her office. She had called an emergency meeting with all her girls. She stood before her desk looking a lot like Sgt. Carter from the TV show Gomer Pyle USMC. That is, if Sgt. Carter were black and big-breasted and wearing a tight powder blue polyester jumpsuit with rhinestones glued to the seams.

  Heavenly Bliss sat on the couch across from her sister with her white toy poodle, Miss Daisy, on her lap. Heavenly Bliss looked like a black version of Dolly Parton from Best Little Whorehouse in Texas. Mildred loved that movie. Now that she thought about it, it was because of that movie she had romanticized her occupation in the first place.

  Miss Daisy jumped off Heavenly Bliss’s lap and sniffed her way around the room until she came to Mildred. She bared her teeth and growled. Mildred tried to shoo the dog away with a flick of her hand. The dog growled louder.

  Mildred bared her own teeth and growled back at the poodle. She had read The Art of War by Sun Tzu one night when Desiree was away on a gig. All she really got from it was never let your enemy sense your fear… that and get the higher ground whenever possible. She had already lost a battle earlier with the doorman, Jabbar Punjab. She couldn’t find any high ground short of standing on his desk.

  Jabbar had stopped her at the front door of the building and wouldn’t let her pass because she wasn’t on his list.

  “What list?” Mildred had said.

  “You have not heard of the list? Then how can I possibly allow you in? You evidently do not belong,” Jabbar Punjab said in his lilting English. If Mildred hadn’t already been late for the staff meeting she would have loved to listen to his singsong voice for a bit longer.

  “I just got hired. That must be why I’m not on the list.” Mildred wished Desiree was here to sort out this whole thing, but she had not returned home after last night’s gig. Mildred knew over-nighters paid double time. Earlier that morning, Candy Sweet had called and told her about Honey Belle’s emergency meeting.

  “Miss Honey Belle would have put you on the list if you were meant to be on the list,” Jabbar said. He cocked his head and closed one eye. “Perhaps, I do remember you, but you look different. You used to have more eyebrows. You came looking for a job as I recall.”

  “Good Lord Almighty, I don’t even want to talk about my eyebrows. Desiree took me to this lady at the mall who plucked them out with dental floss. It was very painful,” Mildred said.

  Jabbar combed his own eyebrows. Mildred thought they looked like a raven’s wings. “I would not wish that torture on anyone. Eyebrows show a person’s true character,” Jabbar said.

  “I was kind of partial to keeping mine but the job requirements required somewhere in the fine print that eyebrows must be fashionably trimmed.” Mildred shook her head. She couldn’t believe she was discussing hair removal with a little Indian man. What was next, telling him about her new bikini-wax?

  Thank God at that moment Heavenly Bliss had come through the front door, carrying Miss Daisy in her arms. “Mildred, you’re going to be late to the meeting if you keep jabbering with Jabbar,” she said. She chuckled at her own feeble joke.

  “Yes, that is very funny,” Jabbar said sarcastically. He drew his great eyebrows together, but still managed to smile.

  “Miss Bliss, I need you to vouch for me. Jabbar says I’m not on the list and he won’t let me go upstairs,” Mildred explained.

  Heavenly Bliss stepped inside the elevator. “She’s a new hire. Put her on the list, Jabbar.” She punched the elevator button.

  Jabbar went to his desk and pulled out a binder. “And what is your occupation?”

  “I’m a gigolo girl,” Mildred said.

  Heavenly Bliss stopped the elevator doors with one hand. “No, she’s not!”

  “What is this you say?” Jabbar said.

  Heavenly Bliss wedged the doors open and stepped back into the lobby. She gave Mildred a pointed look and said tersely to Jabbar, “Mildred is the bottled water delivery person.”

  “But I do not see any water,” Jabbar said. He looked Mildred over to see if she had any water she might be hiding on her person.

  “Well, of course you don’t see it,” Heavenly Bliss said. “First, she has to go to the office and take inventory.”

  “Oh, I see. Your full name?” he asked Mildred.

  Heavenly Bliss interjected, “Her name is Milly Jean Twitty.”

  “Yes, that’s right, Milly Jean Twitty with three T’s,” Mildred said.

  Jabbar scrawled the name and looked at Mildred. “Okay, you may pass. You are now on the list.”

  “Thank you, Jabbar,” Mildred said. She followed Heavenly Bliss into the elevator. Once the doors closed, Mildred asked, “Jabbar doesn’t know what we do?”

  “No reason to tell him,” Heavenly Bliss said.

  “Because he wouldn’t approve?” Mildred ventured.

  “It has been my experience that every time we let the outside world in they want a freebie. We don’t do freebies. Then there is always the threat of blackmail or being reported to the police so we keep it low key.”

  “Oh,” Mildred said. She had no idea of all the risks she was taking. Her new profession had taken a sinister turn. It had seemed so fun and innocent at first.

  “Don’t look so worried,” Heavenly Bliss soothed. “Honey Belle and me take care of our own. We’ve got a fancy-ass lawyer on retainer who wears a vest and a bow tie. She’s one of Desiree’s clients. Alice Purcell. Nobody messes with Alice.”

  Heavenly Bliss patted Mildred’s arm to reassure her. Miss Daisy bared her teeth and growled. “She doesn’t like strangers,” Heavenly Bliss explained. “Especially white people.”

  Mildred had taken one look at the dog’s sharp little teeth and backed up a step. Now here she was, only ten minutes later, sitting in Honey Belle’s office with the same little racist dog growling at her.

  “Miss Daisy, leave that poor gal alone,” Heavenly Bliss said. “Come to Mama.”

  Miss Daisy bounded back into Heavenly Bliss’s lap and licked her hand.

  Honey Belle called the meeting to order by saying, “Something terrible has happened. It seems there has been an industrial accident.” She pointed at Fessa who had a bandage around her head and covering her right ear. She looked like Vincent Van Gogh after his accident.

  “Fessa was attacked by a client,” Candy Sweet whispered toward Desiree and Mildred.

  Mildred gasped.

  Velvet Thrust settled her big body down on the sofa next to Fessa and took her hand in her own. “Are you okay?”

  Desiree and Candy Sweet exchanged surprised looks. “Since when did she care about Fessa?” Desiree asked.

  “Industrial accident? What the hell happened?” Heavenly Bliss demanded to know.

  “She was attacked in the library with a vacuum cleaner,” Honey Belle said.

  Mildred gasped again. She couldn’t have been more surprised if she’d been told Mr. Mustard had done it with a wrench in the kitchen.

  “It was an erotic attack,” Honey Belle said.

  “How does somebody get attacked erotically?” Desiree asked.
r />   “I got rug burn once,” Candy Sweet said. “Does that count?”

  Fessa piped up, “She didn’t even give me hazard pay.”

  Honey Belle bellowed, “Quiet! I want you ladies to understand what happened to Fessa must never happen again. Certified sex toys only, no substitutions, especially household appliances.”

  “Are you saying that one of our clients came after her with a vacuum cleaner?” Desiree asked.

  Mildred gasped yet again. She had once gotten her titty caught in the vacuum tube while cleaning the drapes. It damn near tore her nipple right off. The only way she survived was by yanking the plug out of the wall. She had a hickey on her boob for days. It hurt like hell.

  Honey Belle nodded solemnly. “Fessa and the client were playing French maid and Mistress. The client vacuumed up Fessa’s hair and ripped it clean out the side of her head.”

  “And there’s a possibility it won’t grow back,” Fessa said, beginning to sob. “The doctor said my follicles were destroyed.”

  “There, there,” Velvet Thrust cooed, comforting Fessa in her gigantic arms. “It’s not so bad. Lots of lesbians have one side of the head shaved and long hair that flops down over it from the top. I heard it’s popular in Canada right now.”

  Fessa erupted into giant boo-hoos and buried her face in Velvet Thrust’s massive pectorals.

  Desiree elbowed Candy Sweet and whispered, “Can you get them on film?”

  “No worries,” Candy Sweet said. She aimed her smartphone at Velvet Thrust and Fessa and recorded their moment of weakness and compassion.

  Heavenly Bliss snatched the phone away. “Stop that! We don’t need discord at a moment like this. This is serious business.”

  “That’s right. This is serious. The client claims it was Fessa’s fault and she won’t pay damages,” Honey Belle said.

  “Which is a direct violation of the Client Contract,” Heavenly Bliss added.

  “And that contract is air-tight,” Honey Belle said. “Believe you me, Heavenly Bliss and I come from the place of bad johns and worse pimps. We won’t stand for that.”

  “So sue the bitch,” Desiree said. “I’ll give Alice a call. Just say the word.”

  “We could, but that means publicity if it goes to trial and how are we going to explain who Fessa is and why she was found naked and hairless on this rich bitch’s floor while she’s vacuuming? Nope, we are going to have to do this hard way. I need volunteers,” Honey Belle demanded.

  “For what?” Desiree asked.

  “To do some intimidation work,” Honey Belle replied.

  “I’ll do it,” Velvet Thrust said, dropping Fessa and leaping to her feet. She put her hands on her hips like a superhero ready to do battle. “I demand justice!”

  “Not you. Sit down,” Honey Belle said.

  “I thought you wanted volunteers,” Velvet Thrust said, picking up the still sobbing Fessa again.

  “You’re a loose cannon. You’d end up in prison,” Honey Belle said. She pointed at Desiree and Mildred. “You two. Desiree is clear headed and Mildred could do with the training.”

  “I thought you wanted volunteers,” Desiree said. “I didn’t raise my hand.”

  “I’m volunteering you,” Honey Belle said.

  Desiree sighed. “All right, but I get to use the dog,” she said, gesturing to Miss Daisy.

  Heavenly Bliss nodded. “Agreed.”

  “And I need the company credit card.”

  Honey Belle sighed, but nodded with the resignation of one who understood nothing was free. “Keep it under a five pop, you understand?”

  “Will do,” Desiree said.

  Miss Daisy’s New Look

  “I’m not sure this is such a good idea,” Mildred said. Sometimes these big city girls gave her a scare. Actually a lot of the time. They reminded her of Mr. Fitzherbert—the crazy veteran of WWII who sat in front of the Terrence barbershop and yelled “Fire in the hole!” for no apparent reason. It scared the bejeezus out of anybody who happened to be walking by. Mrs. McDougall tinkled her pants once it frightened her so badly. She had worn Depends ever since.

  Mildred, Desiree and Miss Daisy stood on the downtown sidewalk in front of Maison de Chienne. It was an upper-crust dog grooming studio. The outside of the building was painted pink and had so many filigreed curlicues that it looked like cake fondant gone rogue.

  Desiree had Miss Daisy tethered to a diamond-encrusted leash. “Now remember, if you’re a good girl, afterwards you can go to the bakery and pick out anything you want,” Desiree said.

  “Oh, goody! Can I get a chocolate eclair?” Mildred asked.

  “I was talking to the dog,” Desiree said.

  “Oh.”

  Miss Daisy yipped.

  “Okay, let’s do this thing,” Desiree said.

  Mildred held the door open and Miss Daisy led the way inside. Mildred wrinkled her nose. The place smelled like a French whorehouse with an undertone of wet dog. Despite the smell, Mildred had to admit it was the fanciest shop she had ever been inside. The floor was faux marble and the wallpaper had black velvet fleur-de-lis on it. There were several gold-framed mirrors hanging at dog height.

  A skinny man wearing a tux and tails and sporting a pencil thin mustache pranced in from the back. He stood looking at them with one eyebrow raised and one hand on his jutting hip. He was wearing a nametag on his lapel that read Claude. “Miss Daisy!” he exclaimed in a thick French accent. “How wonderful to see you again, ma cherie!”

  Claude clapped his hands and yelled toward the back of the studio, “Coffee! Toot suite!”

  Claude bade them sit on the pink and white satin chaise. A woman in a maid’s outfit came out from the back holding a carafe of coffee and a milk and sugar set on a silver tray. No wonder they needed the company credit card, Mildred thought.

  The maid poured the coffee then left as quietly as she had arrived.

  Desiree sipped her coffee. Mildred picked up her tiny coffee cup, being sure to keep her pinky extended, and tasted it. She wrinkled her nose again. The thick brown liquid tasted like coffee that had been left on the burner all day. She put the cup back onto the tray and gave Claude a tight-lipped smile.

  “Mademoiselle, what have you in mind for our petite bebe?” Claude asked Desiree. “The usual shampoo and cut with, perhaps, a massage and pedicure?”

  “No, Claude,” Desire said. “We need you to do a special job this time.”

  Claude lifted his other eyebrow and looked down his sharp nose at Desiree. “Special?”

  “Oui, Claude, tres special. I want you to dye her black. Entirely black. Give her a spikey faux hawk. And paint her toenails blood red.”

  Claude gasped.

  Desire continued, “And put one of those studded leather collars around her neck.”

  Claude squinted at Desiree. “If I am understanding correctly—you want Miss Daisy to look like a… gang-banger?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Hmm…” Claude studied Miss Daisy. He raised his eyebrows. He pursed his lips. He tapped his chin. Mildred thought she even saw him wiggle his ears.

  Claude said “Aha!” and grabbed a clipboard from the counter. He quickly drew a sketch. He erased. He drew again. Then he handed the clipboard to Desiree. “Something like this perhaps?”

  “You’re an artistic genius!” Desiree exclaimed.

  Claude bowed his head slightly to acknowledge the compliment.

  “How long will this transformation take?” Desiree asked.

  Claude checked his gold watch. “Three hours.”

  “Perfect,” Desiree said, handing Miss Daisy’s leash over to him. “Don’t forget the studded collar.”

  Claude cleared his throat. “That may be a problem. We have nothing like that in stock. Perhaps The Pleasure Chest would have a collar?”

  “Good idea,” Desire said. “I’ll try there.”

  “Good afternoon, ladies,” Claude said. “If you will excuse moi, I have a canine masterpiece to create.” He
tugged on the leash and Miss Daisy followed him to the back room with her little white pom-pom tail wagging happily.

  Women in Black

  Desiree and Mildred went to Macy’s and bought black leather trench coats. Next, they went to the Sunglass Hut and bought dark glasses. At the Harley-Davidson store they outfitted themselves in black leather pants, vests, and boots. By the time they were finished, Mildred felt like she was wearing an entire cow. Sweat poured down her back. It was hotter than hell inside a cow. And she was pretty sure she even smelled like a big sweaty heifer. She didn’t understand how cows could stand wearing leather all the time.

  Desiree drove them to the other side of downtown to The Pleasure Chest. Mildred sat in the car and stared at the building over the rim of her sunglasses. It was dark purple and shaped like a pirate’s treasure chest. “Please don’t tell me we’re buying more leather.”

  “Well, it does have some leather things in it. Maybe you should stay in the Jaguar. This may give you a bit of at shock. I’ll go in and you can wait here in the air conditioning.”

  Mildred noticed that Desiree always referred to her car as the Jaguar. It must be a rich person’s thing. You never heard any poor people say, “Sit here in my Sentra.” Or, “Can you bring the Kia around front?”

  Desiree added, “I’ve got a Cat Stevens compilation CD I think you’d like. You can sit out here and listen to that.”

  Mildred shook her head and asked, “Is this one of those stores that sells sex toys?”

  “Yes,” Desiree said.

  “I think it’s a good career move for me to expose myself to such things.” Mildred pulled back her shoulders and pretended to be confident.

  “Well, it’s not for the faint of heart. It specializes in S & M,” Desire said.

  “S & M? What’s that stand for? Spaghetti and meatballs?” Mildred asked.