I was just thankful it wasn't the Cortez Casino that I got the call from this time. Maybe he wasn't even allowed there anymore, because it had been a while since I'd gone there to get him. Each time was more humiliating than the last. The owners, Aaron and Justin Cortez, always looked at me with sad eyes, then it would follow with one of them asking me to dinner in one of the fancy restaurants they had at their casino. They would openly hit on me in front of each other, and I was starting to think it was a game for them to see who could get to me first. I had no plans to do anything with either of them. They’re the richest men in the city and have a reputation that goes with that. I didn't need their pity or to be a part of any games they were playing. I didn’t understand what they were getting at, but I didn’t have time for it. They’d ask if I needed someone to talk to, and hell, I probably did. Over the years my friends seemed to slowly drop off one by one. Some going away to college and others frustrated with the lack of time I had to spare to hang out with them. But I didn’t want the Cortez brothers pitying me, and I didn’t need their charity, I needed a father who could pull it together. I didn’t have anything other than the farm, and it’s probably why I’m still a freaking virgin.
I wasn't trying to save it, but I wanted to give it to someone I loved, and if you're too busy working, you sure aren’t going to find time for silly things like love. There is no one even close to my age at the farm. I spent most of my days with Tim, who just mainly grunts his responses. He puts just as much work into the farm as I do, working hard for his own family. I don’t think I could handle things without him, but I know if we don’t start turning a better profit that I could end up losing him.
“So what do think?” I ask, looking at Kim through the mirror. She’s clearly a pro at this, and I’ll take any advice she can give me.
“You look like you're going to make a killing.” She winks at me again, and then goes back to fluffing her hair.
The double doors burst open, and Samantha comes strutting into the dressing room. She checks over all the girls one by one, her redheaded assistant running around, frantically trying to make sure it all looks perfect for her. Samantha’s quite interesting to watch; I can’t help but be in awe of her and this business she’s built. I feel like there’s a really good story there, but I’m sure with the kind of secrets she keeps, she’d never tell it. She’s stunning and looks almost like a Stepford wife, but I don't see a ring on her finger. Her shiny blonde hair is pulled back into a perfect chignon with not a strand out of place. She has very little make-up on, and her outfit, though just a simple black dress, looks like it cost more than I can imagine. She oozes class and sophistication, which is odd because she’s basically running a high-class prostitution service, if you were to call it what it really is.
Meeting Samantha was a stroke of luck. She was at the private poker game when I came to get my father. I'm guessing she was there to get business from the high rollers for the Mistress Auctions. When she saw me, and the bind I was in, she pulled me to the side and told me how she could help.
She said if I met all the requirements, I’d go up on the auction block and would be given to the highest bidder. She collects a percentage of all sales, but insisted there were lots of rules and guidelines to protect everyone. She told me a few of the rules that first night, and the one that stuck out the most was the virgin clause.
In the agreement, virgins must have their first coupling on the property right after purchase. Maybe they wanted to be sure the girl was really a virgin, but I thought the extensive physical should have proved that. Either way, that rule stuck out in my mind because I knew once the hammer went down on ‘sold’, it was time to pay up and put out. The thought terrified me, and I tried not to dwell on it. If I did, I’d be out the door in three seconds flat.
Samantha looks over all the girls, inspecting every detail, and when she gets to me she stops. She looks me up and down and nods. “You’re first.” Her smile is wicked, and she seems a little smug. “You're going to make me a fucking killing. I’m thinking those two would pay anything.”
I give her a questioning look, thinking someone is already set to bid on me. Maybe they gave out our pictures when people first arrived or something.
“I should’ve put in a decoy to jack up the price,” she mumbles, clearly talking to herself as she walks away.
“Drink it,” Kim says, shoving a glass of champagne in my face.
“I’m not old enough.” I push the glass back from my face, needing to keep my head straight tonight.