It was 7:00 Friday night. Jada finished putting the last finishing touches to her makeup, shifted one of her perfectly sculpted curls back into place. Her mother had provided her a bottle of perfume that the older woman had said was Mr. Carson's favorite scent on a woman. It didn't matter that Jada wasn't a woman yet at all, but a girl of 17. Her legal guardians (more specifically her mother) had set this date up, and it wasn't the first time that Szelem Montgomery-Chamberlyn had done so.
It wouldn't be the last time either.
The dress that Jada put on over her slip was a knee-length gold ruched dress with a deep V-neck. Her hose were as high as she could make them. Her mother had personally picked out the dress and shoes to suit her 'friend's' taste. Mr. Douglas Carson was a 48 year old widower with a 25 year old son by the same name. Whether Jada's mother was trying to sell Jada to the father or the son was yet to be determined. The date that she had tonight (and Szelem had used the word date) was with the elder Carson.
The older men always kept their hands to themselves. She might be dating them, but the rules were clear. This wasn't prostitution in the technical sense. Her body wasn't being promised to them, not tonight. Only if they decided they wanted to marry her. The younger ones didn't always, but she'd worked out a way to handle things if it looked like it was going to get out of hand. So what would be her quirk tonight? She chewed thoughtfully on her lower lip. She had used the stutter last time. The time before that she'd pretended to have a twitch in her hand. There had been the head jerk, and the limp. She was running out of classy excuses. She picked up her purse, compared it to the outfit she was wearing critically; it matched well enough.
A quiet knock came on her door, and one of the maids poked her head in. “Miss Jada, your guest has arrived. He awaits you in the sitting room with your mother.”
“Older or younger?” she ran one quick, final checkup, and slid her mascara into her purse.
“The elder, miss.” Jada scowled into the mirror, checked her teeth. White and straight, no lipstick on them. “He's quite impatient, as well, miss. You may like to hurry.” May shifted her weight nervously from one foot to the other.
Jada nodded, checked her hose for runs one final time before leaving her room. She scurried for the stairs; she could hear a loud, unfamiliar masculine voice down below. He sounded pompous and self-important. This was going to be hell. She moved down the stairs; halfway down an older, distinguished-looking man in a black suit, with a black shirt and a black tie. “Your daughter looks the part of a strumpet, Szelem.” his voice was as cold as his eyes. Jada kept her head straight, never met his eyes, only settling them on his cheekbones. “She's a bit forward too. Look at her, brazen as can be. Go put on clothing, girl, and make it snappy. I don't have time for this.”
Jada gave a short curtsy, turned back around and headed up the stairs in silence. Strumpet? Most of the men her mother hooked her up with didn't complain about a young woman looking attractive. Szelem bustled into Jada's bedroom on her daughter's heels, almost diving for the closet. “And what happened to your impeccable taste this time, mother?”
“Don't get smart.” Szelem threw a demure black dress onto the bed, a gold belt following it. “You don't have time to change your makeup, keep the color.”
“Mother, I have gone on dates before.” Jada snapped at the older woman. “I know how to accessorize a black dress as well.”
“Don't get smart with me.” Szelem leaned over, yanked at the gold dress. “Get it off and get the other one on!”
“Mother!”
“Hurry up!” Jada peeled off the gold dress, pulled on the black one. As she was sliding it up her body, her mother was already buckling the belt around her slim waist. “Don't you mess this one up, Jada Chamberlyn.” Szelem grabbed her wrist. “Don't you dare.”
“Mother, I always do my utmost to please you.” Jada's violet eyes were tight.
“I'm not the one you have to please tonight. Mr. Carson is a very wealthy man, and very lonely.”
Even with her very limited relationship with the older man, Jada couldn't imagine why.
It wouldn't be the last time either.
The dress that Jada put on over her slip was a knee-length gold ruched dress with a deep V-neck. Her hose were as high as she could make them. Her mother had personally picked out the dress and shoes to suit her 'friend's' taste. Mr. Douglas Carson was a 48 year old widower with a 25 year old son by the same name. Whether Jada's mother was trying to sell Jada to the father or the son was yet to be determined. The date that she had tonight (and Szelem had used the word date) was with the elder Carson.
The older men always kept their hands to themselves. She might be dating them, but the rules were clear. This wasn't prostitution in the technical sense. Her body wasn't being promised to them, not tonight. Only if they decided they wanted to marry her. The younger ones didn't always, but she'd worked out a way to handle things if it looked like it was going to get out of hand. So what would be her quirk tonight? She chewed thoughtfully on her lower lip. She had used the stutter last time. The time before that she'd pretended to have a twitch in her hand. There had been the head jerk, and the limp. She was running out of classy excuses. She picked up her purse, compared it to the outfit she was wearing critically; it matched well enough.
A quiet knock came on her door, and one of the maids poked her head in. “Miss Jada, your guest has arrived. He awaits you in the sitting room with your mother.”
“Older or younger?” she ran one quick, final checkup, and slid her mascara into her purse.
“The elder, miss.” Jada scowled into the mirror, checked her teeth. White and straight, no lipstick on them. “He's quite impatient, as well, miss. You may like to hurry.” May shifted her weight nervously from one foot to the other.
Jada nodded, checked her hose for runs one final time before leaving her room. She scurried for the stairs; she could hear a loud, unfamiliar masculine voice down below. He sounded pompous and self-important. This was going to be hell. She moved down the stairs; halfway down an older, distinguished-looking man in a black suit, with a black shirt and a black tie. “Your daughter looks the part of a strumpet, Szelem.” his voice was as cold as his eyes. Jada kept her head straight, never met his eyes, only settling them on his cheekbones. “She's a bit forward too. Look at her, brazen as can be. Go put on clothing, girl, and make it snappy. I don't have time for this.”
Jada gave a short curtsy, turned back around and headed up the stairs in silence. Strumpet? Most of the men her mother hooked her up with didn't complain about a young woman looking attractive. Szelem bustled into Jada's bedroom on her daughter's heels, almost diving for the closet. “And what happened to your impeccable taste this time, mother?”
“Don't get smart.” Szelem threw a demure black dress onto the bed, a gold belt following it. “You don't have time to change your makeup, keep the color.”
“Mother, I have gone on dates before.” Jada snapped at the older woman. “I know how to accessorize a black dress as well.”
“Don't get smart with me.” Szelem leaned over, yanked at the gold dress. “Get it off and get the other one on!”
“Mother!”
“Hurry up!” Jada peeled off the gold dress, pulled on the black one. As she was sliding it up her body, her mother was already buckling the belt around her slim waist. “Don't you mess this one up, Jada Chamberlyn.” Szelem grabbed her wrist. “Don't you dare.”
“Mother, I always do my utmost to please you.” Jada's violet eyes were tight.
“I'm not the one you have to please tonight. Mr. Carson is a very wealthy man, and very lonely.”
Even with her very limited relationship with the older man, Jada couldn't imagine why.
