Panties for Sale (14 page)

“Well, honey, I was worried about you.
 
You didn’t answer your phone yesterday.
 
Or return my messages.
 
Why didn’t you come over yesterday?
 
I thought you would at least call.
 
You know it was your father’s birthday.”

“Oh, I thought it was tomorrow,” Alex lied.
 
Shit.
 
She had completely forgotten.
 
How
could she have forgotten her father’s birthday?
 
“What did you do?”

“Oh you know your father.
 
He didn’t want to do anything special.
 
Your sister and Frank bought him a day pass for the Pine Ridge golf
course.
 
And then last night, I got him
that cake he loves from the Market.
 
It
was nice.”

“It sounds really nice,” Alex felt guilty.
 
“Did Dad go golfing by himself?”

“Oh no, Frank went with him.
 
I think they had a good time.
 
Your father didn’t wear a hat though and came
home sun burnt.
 
I think he might have
had quite a bit to drink too,” her mother laughed.

“Oh really?
 
That’s
too bad.
 
Is he ok today?”

“Oh yes, dear.
 
He’s
fine.
 
A bit hurt that we didn’t hear
from you though. But I guess it’s easy to mix the dates up and you are so busy
looking for a job.
 
I know it’s tough to
leave the city and come up here to visit.
  
Have you had any bites?”

“Any what?”

“Any bites, you know, job interviews?
 
That’s what Frank calls them.
 
You know dear, Frank has a really great job
and has lots of contacts.
 
He said he could
send your resume out.
 
He does a lot of
work with many different call centres now.
 
He said they are really hot right now.
 
He could definitely get you a job up here.
 
A really good job.
 
You know, that’s all you need; an entry
position.
 
A stepping stone.
 
To get in and prove yourself.”

“Mom, I am not working in a call centre.
 
You barely get paid minimum wage and the
hours are insane.
 
Forget it, I won’t sit
at a desk with headphones and talk into a phone all day.”

“How do you know dear?
 
You have never even tried.
 
You
might like it.
 
You do have a really nice
voice.
 
It would be soothing to hear your
voice on the phone.
 
You know, I can
never understand the people these days when I call the Bell.
 
No one speaks English anymore.
 
You would do so well.”

“No mom, I’m fine here.
 
The temp agency gets me lots of work.
 
Really, it’s just fine, until I find the job that I want.”

“But how can a temporary job be ok?
 
Don’t you want to be stable?”
 
Her mother emphasized the word ‘stable’ in
that way only mothers can.
 
“Don’t you
want to buy a house, get settled?
 
You
can’t live in that tiny apartment forever.
 
Are you just going to work here and there for the rest of your life?”
Alex held the phone away from her ear and slouched against the lockers.
 
“Did you know your sister and Frank put down
a deposit on a house?
 
Isn’t that
exciting?
 
They’d been looking for quite
a while, Mary said, and they finally found one that they just fell in love
with. It’s beautiful. Just gorgeous.
 
It’s a little far away from Frank’s office, but it’s in a good area. Oh,
they have a backyard and a pool!
 
And a
guest room. It’s a really nice house for them. And honey, they said you could
go and stay with them.”

“No, mom, I’m fine,” Alex rolled her eyes. “I like my
apartment.”

“But what about your landlord? I thought you said he was
going to raise the rent?
 
And did he fix
the hot water?
 
I really don’t know how
he can expect you to pay so much for that tiny apartment.
 
Do you know that Frank and Mary’s house
wasn’t as expensive as they thought it was going to be?
 
Frank was able to pay the down payment with
cash, from his investments.
 
He had all
that money saved.
 
Can you believe it? He
doesn’t believe in bank loans.
 
Says they
only make money for the bank and the bank already has enough money.
 
How true!
 
He is so smart! I wish we had his advice when you girls were growing
up!”

“That’s great about Mary,”
 
She was happy for her sister.
 
Of
course she was.
 
But her mother always
seemed to exaggerate things to make her sister’s life seem so fantastic and
make Alex feel small and meaningless at the same time. “I know she has been
looking for a house for a long time.
 
No,
my landlord hasn’t mentioned the rent.
 
So I’m not going to ask him.”

“Are you going to come down this weekend, then?”

“Um, no, I don’t think I can,” Alex replied quickly.

“Why?
 
Is there
something wrong with your car?”
 
Alex had
been waiting for her mother to mention the car.
 
Her parents had paid the deposit on her car.
 
It was her present for graduating
university.
 
Mary had gotten one
too.
 
All Alex had to do was pay the
monthly payments, and for some reason, her mother never let her forget it. “You
made the payment, right?”

“Yes mom, my car is fine.
 
I don’t like to drive it too much, but other than that it’s fine.”

“Well, I don’t want you to think I’m picking on you,
Elixia.
 
But it is our name on the
car.
 
So if you can’t make a payment, you
will tell us, right?”

“Yes, mom. Don’t worry, I am working this weekend.”

“How can you be working this weekend, if you don’t have a
job?”

“Mom, I told you.
 
I
have a job.
 
It’s just temporary.
 
The office where I work asked if I could work
on the weekend. It’s an advertising company, and they really need help with a
PR presentation they are putting together.
 
I told them I can do PowerPoint, so they asked me to come in.
 
It’s the weekend, so its extra hours.
 
I get paid time and a half, so it’s really
worth it to go in.”
 
Alex tried to sound
convincing, hoping her mother bought it.
 
Of course she bought it.
 
It could
happen.
 
Her mother didn’t have to know
that she was hoping Saturday afternoon she would have an appointment with
Joseph.

Her mother was quiet for a moment.
 
“Well then, when are you going to see your
father?”

“Well, I’ll try and come down sometime next week.
 
Maybe, I’ll get a day off, since I’ll be
working all weekend.”

“Well, I would hope they will give you a day off.
 
They should treat you special.
 
You are not a regular employee.
 
Do they know you have a university
degree?
 
How many temp workers have
that?
 
Maybe they think they can work you
as much as they want, because you are only temporary.
 
You don’t have a contract, do you? Really, I
think you should give Frank a call. He could help you.
 
He said he’d be happy too.
 
You just have to ask him.”

“Yes, thanks Mom.
 
I’ll think about it.”
 
Alex wandered back to the mirror and leaned
close, pulling at the skin on her face looking for blemishes.
 
She stuck her chin out and turned her head
noticing a long black hair.
 
Ugh!
 
She made a mental note to pluck it out with
tweezers when she got home.
 

“You know, your father’s not like me,” her mother was
saying.
 
“He won’t say anything.
 
But he really cares about you girls. And it
hurts him when you don’t remember things like his birthday.
 
You really should call and talk to him.”

“I know mom.
 
I’m
sorry. I thought it was tomorrow.
 
Is he
there now?”

“No, honey, he’s gone fishing.
 
He’ll be home tonight.
 
You can call him then.
 
I won’t tell him I told you.”

“Ok.
 
I’ll call
later.”

“I worry about you Elixia.
 
I don’t want you to work too hard.
 
And I don’t like the idea of you living up there in Toronto, all alone.
 
Have you met any nice boys?”

“No, mom.
 
I’m fine.
I’ll call dad tonight.”

“Ok, honey.
 
Oh, I
have to go.
 
That’s the doorbell.
 
Marjorie from down the street is coming over
to help me with my roses.
 
Did you know
her daughter got accepted to teacher’s college?
 
Isn’t that wonderful?
 
You could
do that too, you know.
 
You would make a
wonderful teacher.
 
Oh, you should see
Marjorie’s roses. They are so beautiful.
 
She plays classical music to them in the mornings.
 
You know I do that too. And give them blessed
water, but mine always seem to die on me. I think they are getting too much
negative energy from the hydro pole.
 
It’s just too close.
 
Yes?
 
Hello, Marjorie!”
 
Alex’s mother’s voice faded as the receiver
fell onto the sofa with a thud.

Alex looked up at the clock’s reflection in the
mirror.
 
12:00.
 
Shit!
 
Where did the morning go?
 
Ahmed
was due at her apartment in an hour.
 
“Mom?
 
Mom!
 
I have to go!”

Dear Diary,

Yes, ok.
 
I am still writing.
 
Actually, it’s nice.
 
Sitting up here at night.
 
It’s quiet, dark and still.
 
John isn’t home yet.
 
He took the boys to hockey practice.
 
I have to say.
 
He has really, well, no he hasn’t completely
changed.
 
That takes time.
 
But I can tell he’s really trying.
 
He really doesn’t want to lose me.
 
To lose us.
 

Tonight he came home early
from work.
 
Scared the shit right out of
me.
 
With roses, cheeky bugger.
 
He hasn’t been home early for years.
 
He came up here when I was on the phone and
started screwing around.
 
Sure, we made
out.
 
I can’t not kiss him.
 
I love kissing him.
 
But I had to stop.
 
I don’t know why.
 
But we lay down on the bed.
 
Our bed.
 
And well, I couldn’t.
 
That was
our bed.
 
I know we don’t use it
anymore.
 
It’s for photo shoots and
whatever.
 
But it used to be so romantic
and magical.
 
And shit, after all that
man has done.
 
I think, well, I can’t use
the bed anymore.
 

I know he’s trying and if
he’s a good man, he’ll be patient.
 
He
has to be.
 
What choice does he
have?
 
I don’t think he’s screwing around
anymore.
 
Who can be sure though,
right?
 
I told Ahmed to keep an eye on
him.
 
You should have seen his face.
 
“I can take care of him if you want,” that’s
what he said. Can you believe it?
 
“You
should be treated like a queen,” he said.
  
I had to convince him it was nothing, that I was just suspicious.
 
That was all.
 
Shit.
 
I hate doing that.
 
Hate letting other people know what’s going
on in my private life.
 
Especially
Ahmed.
 
He’s a gossiper.
 
He’d tell everyone and their sisters.
 
But I know he tries his best.
 
And he does care.
 
But I have to know.
 
It’s killing me.
 
I have to be sure that John is alright.
 
That he is committed.
 
I don’t know why.
 
It’s because he said he was a sex addict.
 
And I’m not the stupid girl from down the
street.
 
Sex addict.
 
Means addict.
 
Even if you don’t want to, you’ll slip up.
 
So I need to know just how much of an addict
I’m married to, right?
 

I can trust Ahmed.
 
Funny guy.
 
Shame actually.
 
He’s damn handsome.
 
Women just don’t seem to be comfortable
paying for sex.
 
I can understand
that.
 
I mean most women could easily be
paid for sex.
 
And damn, women are also
so timid.
 
There are so many out there
that don’t know good sex.
 
Don’t know
that you should be pleasured.
 
The fact
that the man cums does not make good sex.
 
It’s a shame.
 
Ahmed is very good
at what he does.
 
I think women just
don’t allow themselves the simple pleasure of sex.
 
Or maybe they don’t know about the pleasure
they are missing.
 
Women always have to
put their hearts into it.
 
Make it about
feelings.
  
Stick love into it.
 
They don’t just enjoy the sheer physical pleasure
of it.
 
Damn culture conditioning.
 
They still have that bloody bible ringing in
their ears that if they enjoy it, they are whores or evil or something.
 

That’s really what I would
like to do.
 
Open a pleasure house for
women.
 
Teach women how to find their
pleasure.
 
But, sigh, there’s no market
for that right now.
 
Women just won’t pay
for that.
 
Only men.
 
God damned horny men that will pay, pay,
pay.
 

Dora said there’s something
up with that Cohen guy.
 
Alex’s
client.
 
The Arab.
 
That’s what he is.
 
I thought he was French.
 
He does have a sexy voice but he’s from Morocco
or something like that.
 
Dora said for
sure he’s Arabic.
 
And he’s up to
something.
 
I can tell.
 
If we weren’t in Toronto, I’d say the prick
wants to buy Alex and take him home to his harem.
 
Ha!
 
Ok.
 
Maybe not.
 

Dora’s a smart cookie,
though.
 
She’s been with me a long time
and can tell what a man is after pretty much after one conversation.
 
And she thinks he is after more than
appointments.
 
Today, she reminded me of
Shariff.
 
Oh what a bastard he was!
 
He did the same thing.
 
He was from Dubai.
 
Came over here on business trips.
 
Tried a few of our girls.
 
Picked the girls he liked (the blondes with
big tits) and hounded them.
 
Called every
day.
 
Actually, he did that with a few of
my girls.
 
And within a few months the
god damned prick opened his own escort service and stole my girls.
 
Ha!
 
Not that he treated them well after they left.
 
Two of them came back to me within a month,
telling me horror stories about the god damned prick.
 
He made them give him free appointments in
exchange for clients.
 
And he had all
these strange clients that barely spoke English.
 
It gave the girls the willies.
 
Yeah, no.
 
I doubt that’s what Mr. Cohen is after.
 
He hasn’t tried to book any other girls.
 
I told Dora to keep her eye on him though.
 

What else?
 
Chieko!
 
What a gem that girl is turning out to be.
 
I wouldn’t have guessed, but the men
absolutely adore her.
 
She was even able
to get Mr. Roberts off.
 
No one could.
 
Bloody man.
 
His pecker was dead.
 
But she did
it.

What is wrong with men these
days?
 
That Mr. Roberts went through most
of my girls. Beautiful, sexy girls.
 
They
all got naked and did what they could and he could barely get it up.
 
Man, was he really that afraid?
 
Afraid of women?
 
You know he might just have been.
 
Yes, that makes sense because Chieko’s a
small little meek thing.
 
Yes, he
probably felt like she couldn’t hurt him.
 
Wow.
 
Men.
 
Is it really our fault?
  
Have we done this to them?
 

That’s what my husband said:
it’s women’s fault.
 
He doesn’t feel like
a man.
 
He feels emasculated.
 
Here at home because of what I do.
 
He says that I just use men for money.
 
And have no respect for them.
 
And at work, he says his secretary always
tells him what to do.
 
Never mind that
that was the same secretary he was screwing.
 
Wonder if she told her husband?
 
Yes, it’s true I make more money than him.
 
But you would think in his job, he would feel
all masculine.
 
He’s a construction
worker for god sakes.
 
How more of a man
can you be?
 

I don’t know what he
wants.
 
Seems like he just wants to blame
me.
 
Fine.
 
It’s my fault.
 
But really, he knew what I was when I met
him.
 
We bloody met because he hired
me.
 
I’ve got no secrets.
 
Sure, I stopped doing calls when we got serious.
 
And I keep my business separate from the
family.
 
Hidden away on the top
floor.
 
The boys never come up here.
 
They don’t know what I do.
 
What else can I do?
 
Quit all together.
 
Wait at home for him to come home with dinner
ready and me in a black lace slip?
 
That’s not me. Never has been.
 
I’ve given him the best sex of his life.
 
That I know.
 
I’m damn good at sex
and I do love him.
 
I don’t know.
 

Luann said that I can’t worry
about him.
 
Not now.
 
He’s come forward and that is a start.
 
A very good start.
 
She said that maybe my problem wasn’t with
him, maybe it was with myself. That I’m ashamed of what I do.
 
And that allows him to be ashamed of what I
do.
 
Are you kidding me?
  
Not proud of my Angels?
 
Of this business that I started from
nothing?
 
I am damn proud.
 
Angela’s Angels are the number one elite
escort agency in Toronto.
 
We have the best reputation for quality girls
and we are an honest business.
 
I am my
business.
 
I need my business.
 
How can I not be proud of it?
 
Bloody hell.
 
There’s the door.
 
Boys are
home.
 
I love you Angela.