The King and the Courtesan Read Online Free PDF Page A

“A regular came looking for you last night. Where were you?”
    “Poor him. What ever shall he do without me?” I sneered.
    “It’s your loss, not mine,” Yogi said, then went into the barbershop.
    I was sick of that damn barbershop. It wasn’t even a
good
cover for a brothel. No one in there knew a damn thing about cutting hair, save their own experimentations in the bathroom.
    I eventually went inside and hung out with the other girls, who smoked and talked about their children and dogs. In fact, a few of the children were there. Yogi took it upon herself to care for each one. She handed out candies and tweaked their noses, the kids laughing as she did. They clung to her skinny legs and asked her to tell them stories about unicorns. When someone came in the back door looking for their mothers, Yogi pushed them into the next room.
    “You know, Yogi’s as close as they’re going to get to a positive male influence,” Beth informed me as she sucked on a joint. “Which is fucking pathetic.”
    “Geez, Beth, she ain’t
a man
,” snapped Kerrick. “Thought you woulda known that by now.”
    When no one came for me in the first hour, I went outside to get some fresh air. My heels clicked against the concrete as I walked to the curb, wrapping my arms around myself to ward off the chill. The night stretched on, swallowing the houses that the yellow glow of streetlamps couldn’t reach.
    Suddenly there were headlights illuminating the road behind me. I turned, wiping the corners of my lips in case any lipstick had gathered there. I had expected the usual gently used vehicle, but this was something too new and shiny for Metro, a black so sleek that it reflected the world around it.
    I nervously wiped my sweaty palms on my back pockets and approached the car. The car loomed like a great beast, its bluish lights glowing like eerie eyes. I finally stopped at the driver’s window, waiting for the tinted glass to slide down. Instead, the rear window lowered and a hand gestured me forward. When I took the few cautious steps to my right, I instantly recognized the car’s occupant.
    “E-Ezekiel!” I gasped, raising my hand to my mouth.
    “Hello, Melissa,” he greeted in a voice as polished as his car’s silver grille. There was no inclination that he saw me any differently now, dressed as I was, standing on the curb popularly known for sexwork. “Why don’t you get in?”
    “Um, but—” I straightened and pushed the hem of my shorts down, as if that would make them any longer. “Of course.”
    I reached for the door, but one of the bodyguards from before at Blade’s extricated himself from the front seat. He swung the back door open to admit me, all the while staring straight ahead.
    “Thanks,” I whispered. I slid in beside Ezekiel, feeling strangely shy. The car was wide enough to retain my personal boundaries, though I suppose I didn’t take up much room. Everything was leather and gleaming wood accents, nothing I had seen outside of car commercials. The bodyguard slipped back into his place beside the wheel, and the car pulled back onto the street.
    I sat there feeling incredibly awkward in my garb amongst this decadent luxury. Ezekiel studied me.
    “I see your life goes beyond Blade.”
    My tongue swelled as a sweat broke out under my arms. I tried to avoid Ezekiel’s eyes. They were boring deeper and deeper—so deep that I worried he’d find some scrap of emotion I hadn’t disposed of.
    I could only nod, feeling ashamed for no reason I could discern. This was how I made my living. How was that any different from any other job?
    “So,” I said thickly, trying to speak despite my dry mouth. “Where are we going to do this?”
    Ezekiel laughed lightly. It sounded a bit hollow. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry. I didn’t pick you up for
that
.”
    “You mean you don’t want to—?”
    “I think not. You’re far too exquisite a package to simply use up and throw away.”
    They use us like condoms and