Hot Pink Heels (The Street Series) (6 page)

Now, let’s see if I have enough to put both
of my problems in the past and get out of here.
She started stacking the bills, a nearly giddy smile on her face.

Thirteen
hundred. That’s all there was, even after the $800 leftover from Jackson.
Well, that’ll just have to be enough
, she thought. She’d been pulling double duty for the past couple of weeks, doing “favors” for the Travelodge staff whenever she could just to make a few extra bucks here and there. It was stooping low, even for her, but once she’d found out she was pregnant, she knew she’d need the extra money to get rid of the baby.

If she was
very
careful and she only ate when absolutely necessary, it
should
be enough. The nurse she’d talked to at the clinic had told her it’d be less than a thousand to take care of her little “problem,” and if she was lucky, she might be able to find a little place far enough away from Billy’s streets to keep her out of his filthy clutches for good.

The other issue at hand was that if she wanted to get into the escort service, she knew she’d need a wardrobe adjustment. Her current three sets of clothing were barely enough to completely clothe her body if she wore them all at the same time, and the escort service requi
red attire a bit more “discreet.” The outfit she’d taken from Laura was hardly appropriate attire for either job.

Some guys honestly just wanted a pretty date on their arm for the evening, and she was more than willing to dress up and play nice if it meant more money, less bruises
, and, let’s face it, less health risks.

First things first, Amanda
. Gathering the money, she stuffed it into the bottom of her faded green duffel bag and shoved her favorite sleep shirt plus her “hooker boots” in on top of Melanie’s t-shirt and jeans before pulling the drawstring tight. In her sparsely furnished bedroom, she pulled the chain for the single bulb dangling from the ceiling before moving to the closet. The familiar roaches scattered from the light, giving her more reason to celebrate her move.

She felt along the inside edges of the closet for the
piece of wood she’d loosened. “Ouch!” She gasped when she felt the sharp point, but she smiled in victory as she pulled the small piece of wood away from the molding. A thin silver necklace dropped into her open hand and she slipped it into the little pocket of her miniskirt before sticking her finger in her mouth to nurse the injured digit.

The necklace was the only thing she’d saved from her former life and the only reason she still had it was because she’d been wearing it the day she’d been robbed at the bus station. It had been a gift from her grandma for her sixteenth birthday, and it still meant a lot to her, although she had no idea if her Grandma Rosie was even still alive.

Let’s move, girl. Time to get out of this hellhole and into another
, she sighed inwardly before carefully replacing the wood. Amanda didn’t touch anything else in the apartment after scooping up her duffel bag. She wanted it to look like she was still living here, because maybe it would give her just a bit of a head start when Billy came looking for her.

The other girls wouldn’t know what had happened, and to save face, Billy would concoct some tale about her disobedience that would have them believing the worst about her fate. She felt bad that she couldn’t at least tell Whitney the truth
, but the less Whit knew, the better chance she had of being safe from Billy’s fists when he came looking for Amanda. She’d been the closest thing to a friend that Amanda had had in the past two years.

The cha
nces were slim that Billy’s baboon-faced friends were up at this time of the day, but it was getting close to noon and she knew she’d run into them if she didn’t get going.
No reason to wait around, Amanda
. She walked to the door, opened it, and refused to look back into the rooms she’d called home for nearly two years.

Crossing the street and darting around the corner
, she breathed a sigh of relief but kept moving quickly. She needed to be several blocks away before she could completely relax.

Jack
son looked down at his hands, remembering how small Amanda’s wrists had looked when he held them.
Right before that crazy girl kissed me
, he thought, attempting to clamp down on the memory of her body pressing close to his.

He’d taken the car to get it detailed before returning it to Harry,
the lead pastor. Harry would’ve been in for a shock if he’d asked how Jackson’s run went the night before. He knew Jackson had been heading to that area of town to invite homeless people and street girls to the new church they were starting a few blocks away, but Jackson was strangely silent when Harry questioned him on whether the run was a success or not. Harry didn’t press the matter, to Jackson’s relief.

He’d lent his car to Jack
son, because he knew that Jackson would get much more attention with the late-model silver Camaro than the 1992 faded blue Focus he owned, and it had certainly worked like a charm.

However, now Jack
son was in an unsettling position. He felt guilty for allowing Amanda to return to her abusive lifestyle after meeting her, and especially after finding out she was pregnant. She’d made it clear, however, that she didn’t want his help or his opinion on what to do about the baby.

He knew he’d done what he could, and he sincerely hoped the money had been enough to keep her out of trouble with Billy, at least for today. But he couldn’t get her out of his mind to focus on the task at hand. He was
supposed to be looking at the budget, searching for spots where they could downsize a bit in order to fund the warehouse project.

The numbers on the computer screen might as well have been
hieroglyphics, for all he cared.
God, what do I do? I know you say we’re suppose to do good toward all men, and I certainly don’t care if she’s a hooker or the lead singer in the band at church, but she told me she didn’t need my help. What’s the next step?

Jack
son stared at the computer screen as he contemplated the situation, tapping his fingers on the desk in frustration. Maybe he’d done all he could do.

The next day, Jackson came out of church, ready for another pot roast lunch with his parents, but Clarissa stopped him on his way to the car. “Jackson? I haven’t heard from you in three days!” She moved closer to him, blocking his view of the church as he watched for his parents.

“Is everything ok
ay? I mean, I thought we were going to go bowling or something last night,” she said, sounding a bit disappointed.

“Aw, man, Clarissa, I’
m so sorry I forgot all about that,” Jackson apologized. “How can I make it up to you?”

Clarissa smiled demurely, “Oh Jackson, that’s okay. I’m sure you had a good reason for it. Don’t worry about it. I did, however, make one of my famous blueberry pies last night, and I’d be happy to share some with you later this afternoon or evening
.”

“You know I can’t resist your blueberry pies, Rissa,” he said, smiling at her. He waved to someone behind her and she turned to see his parents crossing the parking lot.

“Hi Chuck, hi Laura,” she smiled at them. Laura embraced her, as she did everyone. Jackson knew they were fond of Clarissa, but did not share his enthusiasm for their “friendship,” so he was surprised when his mother asked Clarissa to join them for lunch.

“I’d love that,” Clarissa exclaimed. “I’ll just run home and grab that pie and I’ll be right over.” Smiling, she
turned for her sporty little red Miata.

Jack
son looked at his mom, his eyebrow raised. “You don’t usually invite her to come over,” he said.

Laura smiled. “Well, one thing Amanda’s presence reminded me of is that we all need Jesus, and we all need friends,” she said. “Cl
arissa is still dealing with her loss, and although I’m not sure she’s the one for you, she does need family right now. Besides, you know she reminds me…”

“
Of Melanie. I know. Thanks Mom,” Jackson said, leaning over to place a soft kiss on her weathered cheek. “Let’s go. I’m starving, and I’m pretty sure I hear your pot roast calling my name.”

Laura chuckled as she linked arms with her son and headed toward the car. Whether it was Clarissa or someone else, someone was certainly going to be a lucky lady when they finally captured her son’s heart. She knew he was fond of Clarissa, but he was
not
a man in love, of that much she was sure.

Amanda had a slight bounce in her step. She was finally on the right track, she just knew it. She had a job, an apartment and soon all her troubles would be over. Ok, well, she finally had gotten a job with the escort service and she had a one-room apartment that was all her own. It wasn’t beautiful, but it was definitely a step up from where she had been when she was with Billy and for the first time in over a year, she had real hope that she would eventually make it to the big screen.

As far as the baby was concerned, she had an appointment in the morning and then everything would be fine. By this time tomorrow, she would be problem free. Her new job started in four days and she was sure she would be up for it by then, because the procedure was not that big of a deal at this stage of the pregnancy.

The advance she’d gotten from the escort service had barely been enough to secure the little room with the tiny bathroom, but it was all hers. She’d purchased two outfits and some more sensible shoes plus a small amount of food for her tiny kitchenette, but she was hoarding the rest of her money. She had a thousand dollars stuck under the thin mattress that came with the furnished room and she would take that to her appointment tomorrow.

Hopefully it would be enough, but
she would take her remaining $200 just in case. She really needed that money for the rest of her new wardrobe, so she hoped nothing else came up.

Amanda was wearing one of her new outfits, complete with her new black
heels. The two-inch heels were a welcome change for her aching feet, despite the fact that she really did love those pink stilettos. The simple black skirt was a tasteful knee-length and the hot pink shirt buttoned primly up to her collarbone and was both long and opaque, while still a nod to her love of bright colors.

It had been a long time since she’d worn so much clothing at one time, but as she pulled
the door of the diner open, she noticed appreciative glances from the men. It was a testament to the fact that she didn’t have to bare all to be attractive to the opposite sex. With her confidence boosted, Amanda headed straight for the counter and asked for the manager.

Ten minutes later, she walked out the door humming,
an apron in her hand and a part-time job starting the day after her first gig as an escort.

The bed was hard and cold, and the paper gown thin and ridiculous. Amanda was exhausted, having laid awake most of the night.
You’re going through with this, no matter what
, she told herself.
You don’t have time for a baby, even if you give it up for adoption.

She’d chosen the in-clinic procedure, even though she was just under nine weeks and technically qualified for the abortion pill.
The counselor had said it would probably allow her to get back to “work” sooner. She hoped the bleeding would stop quickly, because she was just three days away from her first escort assignment.

Granted, she’d been told that this guy just wanted a pretty girl on his arm for an important fundraiser he was attending,
which is why she’d need that $200 to shop for the right outfit. There was little chance she would be expected to do any other sort of “performing,” but there was no guarantee.

Where is the doctor? If they don’t get here pretty fast, I might change my mind. Change my mind? Get a grip, Amanda, you can’t afford to think like that!
Steeling herself against the emotions raging inside her, Amanda focused instead on the ceiling, which had calming paintings of clouds and sunny skies to relax the patients.

Her mind drifted, wondering what her baby looked like. Mentally slapping herself, Amanda forced herself to think about something else. She was making the right decision, she was sure of it. There was no way she’d make it big in Hollywood if she was strapped with a pregnancy
now, much less if she decided to keep the baby.

She’d just be one of those single moms turning tricks and bringing home
slime balls to sleep with for extra money, her son or daughter cowering in the corner while mommy “worked.” She’d never get out of the lifestyle then. No, she definitely couldn’t afford to change her mind.

A light knock preempted a woman entering the room. She looked at Amanda and smiled, giving Amanda the impression that she cared, but Amanda knew better.
There were girls lined up in the waiting room who were being herded in for procedures like cattle. Her early appointment was the only reason she’d procured the single private room in the facility.

She’d heard someone crying when the door was opened, but now that it was shut again, all she could hear was
the blood rushing in her ears. She took a deep breath, feeling a bit light-headed, but the doctor chose that moment to enter the room.