collectors.
Most of the people in the room were there to tell Hiram what a terrific addition he had made to the museum. In other words, to admire him. Only a couple of museum curators were there. Hiram obviously preferred to rub shoulders with money rather than knowledge.
Even though I knew I looked good, I still felt underdressed in my simple but elegant dress compared to the haute couture—dressed people in the room. Should I have worn something more ostentatious? A line from the movie
Working Girl
suddenly popped into my mind, something about if a woman wore cheap clothes, people noticed the clothes, but if she wore expensive clothes, they noticed the woman.
I wondered if people were staring at my clothes… or me. Why should I care anyway? That was my father’s practical voice. But the truth was, I guess a part of me did care.
On my way over to the bar, I talked briefly to a couple of gallery owners whom I knew. Eric’s back was to me, so he hadn’t seen me yet.
“Miss Dupre?”
I turned around and stared at a spitting image of Dolly Parton, big breasts and all. Only this one was younger, very much younger. She was perfect for the role I had cast her in for the night.
“I’m Chastity. The agency said I should speak to you.” She had a slight southern accent.
I gave her a big smile. “Okay, just give me a few minutes. There’s someone I need to speak to first.” I wanted to be sure the arrangement was still on before I made a commitment to her.
My reason for being at the party was more than just social. Eric wanted me to take care of a business matter for him. The girl from the agency was the reason Eric wanted to talk to me. I smothered another champagne laugh when I thought about the girl’s name.
“Hi, Eric,” I said to his back.
“Maddy, what took you so long?”
“Traffic,” I lied. It had been champagne, bubble bath, and mellowing out after the stress of the auction the day before. I ordered an apple martini instead of champagne for a change.
“The Huntzbergers are here. Have you made the arrangements with them?” he asked.
“No, I just got here, but I’ve met Chastity. She looks perfect for the job.” I nodded in her direction.
“She does, doesn’t she.” He drooled like a horny college kid when he looked at her. “I certainly wouldn’t mind getting some southern comfort from her.”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t,” I said. I almost added that his wife might object to it, though.
“She comes highly recommended,” he added, as if that qualified his reason for desiring her.
“I’ll bet she does.”
What was it about a girl with blond hair, big boobs, and a short skirt that made men go all gaga? I didn’t get it.
“So where are the Huntzbergers?” I asked.
He pointed to a couple in the opposite corner of the room. They appeared to be fiftyish. Even though they were dressed in designer clothes, they looked a bit stuffy to me, but one could never tell from outward appearances what lurks underneath. This PG-rated Midwest couple wanted X-rated excitement.
“These people are very wealthy, Maddy. They want to loan a valuable collection to the museum. It’ll turn into a donation if we play our cards right.”
People who donated pieces to museums and galleries nowadays often wanted something else besides a tax break and a little recognition. The perks were increasing. I wasn’t sure what else Eric had promised, but sex seemed to be high on the list for this couple. And they wanted more bang for their buck than a simple fuck: I was told to get someone they both would enjoy.
Pimping wasn’t supposed to be part of my job description, but somewhere along the line since the sexual revolution of the sixties depravity had become more and more acceptable in social and business arrangements.
I had arranged sex for other people before. Eric didn’t want to do the dirty work himself and made me make the arrangements. I hated it. Now that I had arrived career-wise, so to
Most of the people in the room were there to tell Hiram what a terrific addition he had made to the museum. In other words, to admire him. Only a couple of museum curators were there. Hiram obviously preferred to rub shoulders with money rather than knowledge.
Even though I knew I looked good, I still felt underdressed in my simple but elegant dress compared to the haute couture—dressed people in the room. Should I have worn something more ostentatious? A line from the movie
Working Girl
suddenly popped into my mind, something about if a woman wore cheap clothes, people noticed the clothes, but if she wore expensive clothes, they noticed the woman.
I wondered if people were staring at my clothes… or me. Why should I care anyway? That was my father’s practical voice. But the truth was, I guess a part of me did care.
On my way over to the bar, I talked briefly to a couple of gallery owners whom I knew. Eric’s back was to me, so he hadn’t seen me yet.
“Miss Dupre?”
I turned around and stared at a spitting image of Dolly Parton, big breasts and all. Only this one was younger, very much younger. She was perfect for the role I had cast her in for the night.
“I’m Chastity. The agency said I should speak to you.” She had a slight southern accent.
I gave her a big smile. “Okay, just give me a few minutes. There’s someone I need to speak to first.” I wanted to be sure the arrangement was still on before I made a commitment to her.
My reason for being at the party was more than just social. Eric wanted me to take care of a business matter for him. The girl from the agency was the reason Eric wanted to talk to me. I smothered another champagne laugh when I thought about the girl’s name.
“Hi, Eric,” I said to his back.
“Maddy, what took you so long?”
“Traffic,” I lied. It had been champagne, bubble bath, and mellowing out after the stress of the auction the day before. I ordered an apple martini instead of champagne for a change.
“The Huntzbergers are here. Have you made the arrangements with them?” he asked.
“No, I just got here, but I’ve met Chastity. She looks perfect for the job.” I nodded in her direction.
“She does, doesn’t she.” He drooled like a horny college kid when he looked at her. “I certainly wouldn’t mind getting some southern comfort from her.”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t,” I said. I almost added that his wife might object to it, though.
“She comes highly recommended,” he added, as if that qualified his reason for desiring her.
“I’ll bet she does.”
What was it about a girl with blond hair, big boobs, and a short skirt that made men go all gaga? I didn’t get it.
“So where are the Huntzbergers?” I asked.
He pointed to a couple in the opposite corner of the room. They appeared to be fiftyish. Even though they were dressed in designer clothes, they looked a bit stuffy to me, but one could never tell from outward appearances what lurks underneath. This PG-rated Midwest couple wanted X-rated excitement.
“These people are very wealthy, Maddy. They want to loan a valuable collection to the museum. It’ll turn into a donation if we play our cards right.”
People who donated pieces to museums and galleries nowadays often wanted something else besides a tax break and a little recognition. The perks were increasing. I wasn’t sure what else Eric had promised, but sex seemed to be high on the list for this couple. And they wanted more bang for their buck than a simple fuck: I was told to get someone they both would enjoy.
Pimping wasn’t supposed to be part of my job description, but somewhere along the line since the sexual revolution of the sixties depravity had become more and more acceptable in social and business arrangements.
I had arranged sex for other people before. Eric didn’t want to do the dirty work himself and made me make the arrangements. I hated it. Now that I had arrived career-wise, so to
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