Are You Ready?

We just sat in the livivng room staring at one another for a while. As soon as we sat down, Roxy came bounding in and jumped into my lap and she eventually fell asleep in my lap. I continued to pet her absentmindedly, but my gaze remained on the boy in front of me. The only sound was the tick tock of the grandfather clock over in the corner.

The maids, which were mysteriously missing yesterday, were all over us at first. I turned down food a few times. It was very difficult because all I've had lately was yesterday's candy. I still haven't had a bite of real food in days. As soon as we get down to business- ugh, bad image in my head- I might allow someone to bring me something, anything. I'll eat about anything at this point because I am literally starving.

My apprehension and fear had faded. I still feel sick to my stomach for what I'm agreeing to do, but I no longer feel scared. But I know that will return once I actually have to... perform my duties. My God, I hate this is what I've resorted to do to make money. In my mind, I've probably apologized to my mother at least three dozen times since I made the decision. Which wasn't even two hours ago.

He sits across from me in an arm chair, staring with an expectant expression with those grayish-blue eyes of his. And his charcoal black hair was getting on my nerves. It's cropped, a total mess and he has a cow lick I want to just stand up, walk over and brush down with my fingers if neccessary. But I didn't. I held his gaze. He had his chin in his hand, propped up on the arm of the chair. He began to tap his fingers against his cheek at a steady rhythm.

I can't stand this silence, so I break it. "How long?" I ask bluntly.

"Be more specific," he replies with no snideness.

"How long would I have to... be you escort?"

"I'm not sure yet." He taps his fingers at a faster tempo, thinking. When he slows down, he says, "A couple weeks at least. Maybe longer depending how well it goes."

"And your parents are okay with this?" I'm sure they don't want a girl sleeping with their son for money walking around their house. Especially with this morning's incident.

"Well, they left not long after I came to visit you. Going on some business trip for a couple of weeks. So you can stay in the guest room for a while. And if our deal continues past the time they're gone, I could rent a hotel room when they return." Living here will bring back so many memories and I guess I have to focus on the positive to keep sane. But this could also be so refreshing. Reliving my old lifestyle.

That gives me an idea. The Russells could stay with me in that hotel. Better than some dumpy apartment. A nice, ritzy hotel. I need to make sure he wants this deal to last longer than two weeks. I don't know how I can gurantee that, though.

"My payment for... my services," I drop focus, trying to hide my blush " ... how much? And how is based? What I mean is, how do we determine my pay?" I hope its not based off how well I do. Because I have never done anything like this in my life.

"Uhh," he mumbles. "I don't really know. I've never done anything like this before so I dont really know how to price this." He sits straight up and scratches his head, only making his hair messier. "What do you want?"

I stop petting Roxy and entwine my fingers and place my elbows on my knees. I don't know what would be reasonable. Should I just aim high then work down from there? Or start low and work up? I say the first number that pops into my head. "Three hundred dollars."

"A week? That sounds reasonable, I guess." He shrugs like it's nothing. That's six hundred dollars he's willing to spend. I figured that would've been aiming high with three hundred for both weeks.

I raise my eyebrows. "Oh." I'm shocked.

"What? You want more?"

"I meant for the two weeks altogether. But-" Why would I admit that? I truly am an idiot. "Wait. How can you afford this?"

"My trustfund that I finally got access to since I turned eighteen a couple of months ago." He gives me one of his now signature smirks. "Don't worry. You'll be getting paid accordingly. Plus you're getting clothes and other junk."

"Oh," I say quietly, with a small nod. "And, umm, how often would we be doing something?"

"Probably everyday, otherwise I wouldn't have you stay here."

"Oh," I repeat. "Will people know about this?"

"Are you crazy?!" he snaps. "Of course not! No one can find out about this deal. If my 'friends' find out about this, I'll be socially humiliated. I just...ugh!" He grunts something under his breath I don't catch. "They're just judgemental people." I raise an eyebrow at him and tilt my head. He makes a face and folds his arms. "More so than me."

"Hmph, I doubt that," I say pointedly.

He gives me a dirty look, but stands up and comes to stand over me. He sticks out his hand. "So is it a deal, or not?" I untangle my hands from each other and extend my left toward his. Just as my fingertips reached his , I pull back at the last second. He bugs out, "Ugh! What?! What is wrong? What more could you possibly want? You're getting free food, free clothes and a place to stay for the extremely low price of nothing but help me out. It costs you nothing. Nothing!"

Actually it will cost me alot more than you think. It's costing me my... virtue... And also my dignity. And there's no monetary value on either of those. I can't exactly buy them back once this is done. "Um, I just wanted to make this official."

"You mean write out an actual contract?" he asks incredulous. "That's taking this to the extreme don't you think?"

I shake my head, "No!" I blurt out too loudly. In a quieter voice, I continue, "I don't want any record of this. A contract isn't what I meant." He just raises his eyebrows, telling me to come out with it. With a harsher tone, I say, "Jesus Christ! I just think that we should properly introduce ourselves before we make any agreement." Roxy had woken up when I got too loud and climbed out of my lap, to the carpeted ground. I stand up and place my fists on my hips. "So this doesn't feel as... shifty. I don't want to be referring to you as Mr. Hastings all of the time. That would be strange since you're my age. And you have no idea what name is, do you?"

"Okay, I guess that makes sense." You know it does. He re-extends his hand. "Hello then. I'm Oliver Hastings. And you are?"

I take his offered hand in my, "I'm Annabelle Adler-" Is what I answer instinctively, but I catch myself ans shake my head quickly and correct my mistake. "I mean Jensen."

"Which is it?"

"Annabelle Jensen, I swear. I use to get into some trouble when I told me people my real name because my father's horrible treatment of his employees and-"

His jaw drops, "So you're related to John Jensen? You're his daughter? Your family was even richer than mine back then. What happened?"

"Bad investments like everyone else," I say shrugging.

"You lost everything?" He looks horrified.

"Yep. Everything. Consider yourself lucky because you could've ended up like me." I pause, then add, "Nope, you'd be dead by now. Not knowing how to care for yourself will be the death of a boy like you." I replicate one of his smirks.

He shoots me another dirty look. "Whatever happened to him? My father never told me."

Matter of factly, I say, "Oh, he took it really bad. He shot himself in the head."

"A little cold, are we?"

"Nope, just never fond of him. He was never home, always gone on business trips, never cared for my mother and I- when she was still alive- and he was just as cold to me. I tried at first to win over his affections, but was denied everytime."

"Oh," is all he says back.

"Why am I telling you this?" I say coming to my senses. I snatch away my hand.

"Hold on! Do we have a deal or not?"

I groan, "Yes, we have a deal." I reluctantly take his hand again. We shake once and drop our hands. Right there and then, my stomach lets out a low growl. That's embarrassing.

"Are we hungry?" he teases and I glare at him. He calls out for the maids and they all file in with platters of food. My mouth waters at the sight of it all.

For the next half hour or so, I stuffing myself. I eat plenty of finger sandwiches, a variety of fruit and vegetables and a slice of pie. The whole time, Oliver is watching me, but I couldn't care less because I am starving. I know my manners, but that doesn't matter when all I want is all of that food. I didn't forget them, just set them aside for this meal. I also feed Roxy some scraps, but Oliver assures me she's been fed twice today.

I finish when I'm sure I can't eat another bite. My stomach feels like it's expanded twice it's normal size. And that's when I think about what I've just done. For another half hour, I feel naseous for a completely than when I first came here. I'm curled up on my side and he's teasing me, saying he saw this coming.

Finally, I'm on my feet racing to where I remember the bathroom is. Everything I just finished eating is coming back the way it came for another half hour. He follows me. From the door he asks, "What do you want me to-" But I interrupt him with another heave. Oliver attempts to help, but he looks green at the sight of the muck so I send him out. I don't need him sick too. I spend an extra thirty minutes in there for caution, but eventually, weakly, I get up and land in a heap on the chair in the living room then close my eyes.

"Miss Jensen," says a high voice from directly in fron of me. I groggily open my eyes and see an elder maid standing over me. "I've been instructed to bathe you immediately and show you to your room."

"Oh, okay." I stand up and she leads down the hall. She stops in front of my room. "Is this going to be my room?" I'm trying not to seem too eager, but I'm not hiding it well. She tells me it will be and opens the door. I shyly step in and look around the room. I'm disappointed, but I suppose I shoudn't have expected an exact replica of my old room. It's the same blue color I had it painted and the dresser and main furniture were still there, but it didn't feel like my room anymore.

"Miss," beckons the maid from the bathroom. The water was running and as I got closer to the small room, I felt the warmth of the water radiate on my skin. "Please undress," she commands in a soft tone. I shift from foot to foot uncomfortably. "Please, Miss Jensen. You know those clothes are rags and you look like you haven't had a decent scrubbing in... years." I should have taken offense from her words, but I don't. I slip off the rags and wrap myself in a towel until she tells me to go into the tub.

The feeling of that water... indescribable. I let out an involuntary moan when the liquid touched my skin. I didn't mind her scrubbing my skin off. I didn't even mind having my legs shaved. But I did mind her yanking my hair out. She was also instructed to comb out my hair and she complained that it was all dead ends and a huge mess. Peace returned when I was allowed to sit in the tub with it filled to the top and mountains of bubbles everywhere. It reminds me of the good ol' days.

I know I'm in the water for too long because I'm wrinkly by the time I get out and it's dark outside. The same maid is waiting on top of my bed and she's holding fabrics in her hands. "These are your night clothes. Please put them on. If you need Mr. Hastings, he's the down the hall to the left." She places them on the bed and leaves. I go to close the curtains and I've just taken off the towel when there's a knock at the door. I freeze. "Um, who is it?"

"Sorry, it's me... Oliver. I-I just needed to, um, talk to you?"

"Give me a minute?" I hear footsteps fade away and my heart beat picks up. Is this some signal that it's time? It couldn't be more obvious. The maid explaining where his room is. Him coming to my room. And now that I look at the pajamas, they are nothing like what I remember. It's a light pink silky dress that goes to my knees and a thin robe. I never wore anything like this before, and neither did my mother.

I'm over taken with quivers and I feel a sob coming on. I can't breathe. But I have to do this. I need money for the family back in that dump. I can do this. I can do this. I. Can. Do. This. For Molly, and Teddy, and Jimmy and Jane and Arthur.

Momma?! You were suppose to teach me about these things. Now is the time for a quick lesson. Please! Please? I have no idea what I'm getting into. If I screw up, it could cost me alot, and not just me but the poor innocent Russells.

I rush over to the mirror and look at my face. My mother's amber eyes stared back. My light brown hair is still wet and I try to towel dry it and part it on the right side. I mess it up to give it volume and attempt to make the most seductive face possible, but I make an odd face and slap my palm to my face. "Dear Lord, help me," I mumble into my hand. I walk out of the bathroom, out of my room and to Oliver's room. His door is cracked and I wait there, wanting to control my breathing. Do it. Just do it already. I push open the door and I here the shower from his bathroom so I sit on the bed.

Unsure how to proceed, I lay out on his bed, head propped up on my hand, robe open, rubbing my foot over my leg, but also trying to keep the dress from riding up my leg. It seems to take him forever to get out of the shower, yet only a minute has passed. Way beyond my comfort zone, I slip to the edge and cross my legs. I lean back and wait.

At long last, he comes out. He freezes at the door, surprised to see me. "Oh, Annabelle. Hi there."

In the most sensual voice I could manage, I say, "Are you ready?" God knows I'm not. I probably sound ridiculous. Depsite that thought, I slink over to his side and pull him over to the bed. Once on the bed, I panic. What on earth do I do next?!

"Ready for what?" He contracts his brows.

"What do you think?" I don't bother with that moronic voice this time. "What you hired me for."

I look him in the eye and he looks confused. Suddenly, Oliver jumps up and out of the bed. "You're a prostitute!?" He begins to pace back and forth, muttering some unitelligible things. Then he clearly says, "I can't beleive I hired a whore!"

I sit on the edge again. "Wait, that's not what you hired me for?"

"No!"

"But you- and she- an escort!- and calling me to your room- and these pajamas!" I cover my face with my hands, utterly humiliated. I'm positive my face is as red as my red ribbon. Tears build up and spill over and I'm sobbing.

Oliver looses it. "An-Aannabelle, please don't cry. Umm, I'm sorry I don't... need your services. But, umm, please just stop..." I begin to laugh hysterically. At everything. Oliver. My cherade. I shake my head, rocking back and forth, giggling. "Are you okay?"

"I am in no way a prostitute. I thought that what you meant and I'm desperate enough to do it!" I laugh more. "I'm just so happy I don't have do to..." I squirm at the idea. "So by escort, you really meant an escort?"

"Yes. Why would I want a...?" He trails off, and I laugh even harder.

"You have no idea how much of a relief this is! And I don't know! Men are pigs sometimes!" A rush of adrenaline makes me hyper and I'm bouncing on the bed. I am not in control of my body. Oliver just looks at me like I'm losing my mind, which I may be. Then I'm on my feet and I grabbed his hand and shake it vigorously. "I will certainly agree to our terms,eagerly, now that I'm not losing my dignity...or virginity!" I clap my hands once, but then grab his face and plant a kiss on him. I pull away and giggle even more. "Don't worry! That was free of charge!"

I'm in this state of bliss for another couple of minutes, but then I calm down enough to sit back down on the bed and fold my hands in my lap. I get out one last giggle, but compose my face. He just stares, eyes wide, frozen ever since I kissed him. "Err..." he starts.

"So...what did you want to talk about?" I ask, chipper.