Read Online Ribbons by J R Evans - Free Book Online

across the foyer to the same doorway Adam had shown him to the night before. The room looked entirely different. It seemed like it should be called a parlor or something. The stage was clear, and the coffin was gone. Now that it was empty, Matt could see that it wasn’t really much of a stage. There was a step up to a raised wooden floor that was maybe a dozen feet wide and just deep enough to hold, well, a coffin. It was backed with red velvet curtains, but Matt didn’t think there was anything behind them.
    Matching curtains covered the windows, as well, and recessed lighting was dimmed down to a seductive level. Bright enough to see but dark enough to hide any flaws. The rows of folding chairs were gone, replaced by a few clusters of plush sofas, love seats, and chairs. They all went nicely with the red curtains. The bar was cleaned up and ready for business, though there was no bartender in sight.
    “Let me guess. This is the Red Room or wait, no, the Crimson Cove!” Matt was proud of himself.
    “We’re not pirates,” Christy clarified. “It’s the parlor.”
    Matt was a little disappointed.
    “After guests check in, they take a seat here and wait for the lineup.” Christy spoke over her shoulder as she reached down to pick up a crumpled napkin hiding under a chair. “Maybe have a drink.”
    “Lineup?” Matt was thinking it must be a sports analogy, but he wasn’t very good with those.
    “Yeah,” Christy said. “The girls who are available line up onstage.”
    “And?”
    “And you pick one you like.”
    She started to leave the room, but Matt was still looking at the stage.
    “That’s not offensive?” he asked. Then he realized he was getting left behind and had to do a little jog to catch up. “That seems like it should be offensive.”
    Christy kept walking. “Would you rather draw a name out of a hat?”
    “I was thinking more like a big wheel that you could spin.” He had his smart-ass grin on, but Christy couldn’t see it. “Like on Wheel of Fortune .”
    She stopped abruptly and turned to face him. “Sure. That’s way less offensive.”
    He had to stop short to avoid running into her. By the time he’d recovered, she was already walking again. This time down a hallway off the foyer. He caught up again. “Equal opportunity, though.”
    Instead of replying, she pointed through an open door. “The kitchen and break room are through there.”
    Matt glanced in and saw a room that seemed out of place. Not that it was messy or crappy looking or anything. In fact, it was nice. Not elegant, not fancy, but simple and . . . lived in, Matt supposed. It had small dining nook to one side, just big enough for a breakfast table and four chairs. On the other side was a worn couch facing a tiny TV. Beyond that was a small kitchen with a sit-in counter. It all seemed very homey.
    “Moving right along.” Christy had stopped halfway down the hall to wait for him. Behind her was a vintage portrait of a fan dancer. They both looked at Matt expectantly as he caught up again .
    Before Christy could continue the tour, Matt had a question. “So how does the money work?”
    “People pay us,” Christy’s expression was deadpan, “to have sex.”
    “Yeah, but there are lots of different types of sex. I’ve read books on it,” he assured her. “Picture books. Is there a menu or something?”
    She cocked her head slightly, as though she didn’t quite know what she was looking at. Then she shook her head and continued down the hall. “Our clients know what they want. Part of our job is to make them feel comfortable enough to ask for it. We’re not concubines. We don’t do tea ceremonies. We know what our clients like because they ask for it over and over again.” She opened the door to another room. “It can be intimidating. Usually we just start with a drink and then discuss business on a little tour.”
    He leaned in to take a look. The room was dominated by a large king-size bed with a