“Right. So, what now?” I said when there was another silence. “What do we do while we’re waiting here?”
“We mingle, of course.”
He reached into his top again, pulling out a small device with a thin wide screen and a handle. It looked a bit like a shaving razor from my pre-frozen days, but smoother.
“Keep this on you. Scan the business cards of any potential clients, but don’t get it out until one is offered to you.”
I nodded, taking the small device, surprised by how light it felt.
“You need to find at least four, preferably six, men willing to come to your unveiling. They’ve got to want to spend obscene amounts of credits on deflowering you. While many men will admire you, few will be willing. Or have the pockets deep enough to provide the figure you’re going to need to aim for.”
I let out a shaky breath, my mind serving me several imaginings of what that might look and feel like. It took all my self-possession to hold my emotions in check and merely nod.
“If not everyone has deep enough pockets, do you know of anyone here who does?” I asked. “The sooner I earn back my debt the better.”
Yaru nodded, swivelling to the side. It was only as I did the same that I realised, not only were we tucked away from everyone else, we had been given a table with a good view of the other patrons, especially those drinking by the bar, meals either finished or not required.
I found myself wondering if Yaru had planned this. If he’d expected to sit here and point out potential companions for me. It was a very lucky coincidence if not.
“Hmmm,” he said. “There are a few here so far who might be willing to part with the credits, but getting them to like you will be another matter.”
“Let me worry about that part,” I replied. He chuckled.
“As you wish, my dear, but I warn you, men with money and a willingness to splash it out often have higher demands and expectations. If you truly wish to earn back your debt quicker than Daniel can increase it you must be…
“Perfect,” I suggested.
Yaru tilted his head on the side, considering my word. “Willing. Willing to give them their every fantasy and more.”
“Then so be it,” I replied, gulping nonetheless. I wouldn’t break. I’d be strong. This couldn’t be worse than being trapped inside myself day after day.
“See that young fellow over there, two courtesans hanging off his every word?” Yaru asked, not pointing, but glancing at a pale man. He looked to be barely above twenty, his chin smooth and his clothes loose. He wore a large shirt, unbuttoned over a less than muscular but lean chest. Tight black jeans adorned his lower half, hung low on almost non-existent hips.
“The emo?”
Yaru raised his eyebrows but nodded.
“He richer than he looks, then?”
“Very much so. Daddy has a veritable empire. A business over several planets. But our boy here has very little desire to do anything constructive.”
“Doesn’t want to take over the family business?”
“Won’t get a chance to, even if he did want it, for several hundred years. We live a lot longer now, remember. Daddy had him young.”
“Right.” My mind tried to keep up. I was once more grateful I had a guide in this strange new world.
“The important thing is, he has money, and he likes women.”
“Where’s the catch?”
“So cynical…” Yaru gave me a look.
“There would be more than two courtesans hanging off his every word if there wasn’t a catch,” I replied, not mentioning that I had every right to be cynical given the last thirty-six hours of my life.
“Good point. The catch… It’s rumoured Keaton likes control. And he’s not very forgiving.”
“A dominant?”
“Something like that.”
I nodded, feeling a chill run through me, noticing how the two courtesans interacted with him. The body language was subtle, but they were acting submissive, letting him control the conversation. Could I go there?
“He’s not the only possibility in the room, however, although by far the richest.”
Yaru continued to extol the virtues of several more men of varying ages, evidently going in order of wealth, until he stopped and looked at me, but there was one more who had caught my attention.
“The guy over in the round booth, leather trousers, bleached blond hair, the grunge, punk sort of look. Courtesans all talk to him, but he’s been nursing that scotch alone the entire time we’ve been here,” I said, hoping Yaru would understand my unspoken query.
“Ah, yes, another resurrected.”
“A male courtesan?”
“No, but an interesting idea.”
“So how did he get a sponsor?”
“He didn’t. He was wealthy enough and someone in his family line managed an investment on his behalf. The benefit of being a famous actor before he got sick. He had fans the moment he was healed.”
I opened my mouth to ask more questions, but nothing came out. There were too many.
“He’s an actor now, but a little down on his luck. The novelty of seeing a resurrected on the big screen has gone.”
“So, not a good option.”
“Not if you want to make enough money at your unveiling. He doesn’t have it. I’d also caution against being seen spending too much time with any male resurrected.”
I raised my eyebrows, hoping Yaru would explain why that might be a problem, but he never got a chance.
“So, Yaru, you going to keep this young woman here all to yourself all night, or let someone else have her time?” a man said, one Yaru hadn’t mentioned yet, as he came swaying up to the table. He made a beeline for me, his eyes lingering far farther below my face than I was comfortable with.
I felt myself freeze to the chair, but Yaru was on his feet far faster than I’d have thought possible. His hand came out, grabbing the wrist of my would-be assailant and stopping him in his tracks.
“She’s veiled, and under my care,” he said, his tone a strange mix of ice and politeness. The drunk blinked his surprise, his mouth still shut as his eyes looked between us.
“Oh,” he said a moment later. Yaru slowly let go, and my eyes were immediately drawn to his wrist. There were white marks where Yaru’s fingers had dug in. The man rubbed at them with the other hand, almost absentmindedly. It appeared Yaru was also stronger than he looked.
Although I’d been threatened, something about the result lent me a calm I hadn’t expected. I was in good company, and for now, at least, I had a sort of defence against the unwanted attention of other men.
Despite the man staggering away almost as quickly as he’d appeared, Yaru remained on his feet and held out his hand to help me to mine.
“Time to mingle,” he whispered as he did. “You need to gain the interest of at least one of the men here tonight if you want to succeed.”
“No pressure,” I whispered back as I moved as gracefully as I could beside him.
“Be yourself on your best day,” he added before he was too far away to talk, making it clear I was to do this alone. I found myself wondering what kind of advice that was. I’d heard the first part before, but not the second.
But I didn’t get time to ponder on the reason for the elongated instruction. As soon as Yaru was gone from my side, men looked my way, some of them more subtly than others, some evidently hoping to get my attention.
One man flicked his head to indicate the empty seat next to him, another pulled a chair out, and even more smiled. I was the centre of attention for almost the entire room.
For a second I froze again, my feet refusing to budge from my tiny section of the patterned diner floor.
You can do this. You know how to read people. How to get them to like you.
As my eyes continued to rove over the crowds, they caught the gaze of Mr Loaded Emo. The corner of his mouth twitched up just enough, the courtesans beside him ignored, one of them unable to hide her annoyance despite continuing to appear meek and submissive.
Before I could stop my body, it moved, bearing me towards him as I held my line of sight steady, fixed on his face. I returned the slight smirk.
Let’s see what he makes of a confident woman.
“I assume Yaru told you who I was,” Keaton said when I arrived at his table, saving me the trouble of trying to open the conversation myself. For a bachelor so young, he appeared to have plenty of confidence. Before I left my table, I didn’t take long to drink most of the drink, and now I could feel a warm fuzziness spreading through me. Perhaps relaxing a smidgen was exactly what I needed.
“He might have,” I replied, stopping far enough away I could keep an eye on the other two women with him in my peripheral vision.
“Either he did or he didn’t.” His eyes flicked with fire.
I let a small smile flash across my face again, but didn’t answer.
“Aren’t you going to introduce yourself?”
I tilted my head to the side slightly, studying him as if I was considering his words and if I wanted to obey them.
“Auralia,” I said, dragging the syllables out.
“Well, Auralia, you’re bold.”
“More… curious.”
“Curiosity killed the cat.”
“Haven’t you heard? I’m a resurrected.”
He let out a barking laugh, his eyes lighting up for the first time that evening.
I could feel the stares the other two courtesans gave me, their eyes no longer cast downward, but I kept my gaze on Keaton, Mr Loaded Emo.
“Why don’t you let me buy you a drink?” Loaded Emo said a moment later. I lowered my eyes along with my chin for a fraction of a moment, giving my consent.
Barely looking, his hands tapped across the nearest table surface. The courtesan on the left’s mouth dropped open, but she didn’t speak.
“Leave us, Hannah, Erin.”
Neither woman moved, now both their jaws hanging low.
“I won’t ask again,” he said, his voice dropping deeper. This time they got to their feet and hurried away. I tried to hide my surprise. His attention was now all mine. I hadn’t expected it to be that easy.
He motioned towards the nearest chair, now vacated for my use. Still holding his gaze, I slid into the booth. For now I’d cooperate a little.
I imagined many women had tried to get his attention by either being perfectly submissive, or the complete opposite. The truly interesting path would be to find the sweet spot in the middle. To challenge him at times and submit at others.
As soon as I was sat, our drinks arrived. Two small glasses with three layers of different coloured liquids, the bottom a creamy looking white, the middle bright red and the top a bubbling green. He didn’t drink his right away, and I was in no hurry either.
“I must confess, I was wondering if you were this Auralia people have been talking about. They’re saying you must be something quite special.”
“People like to talk,” I replied, deflecting the attention away from myself. This seemed to throw him, and an awkward silence started to form.
“So, what’s in this drink?” I said, picking it up and giving it a slight swirl. I’d expected the colours to begin mixing, the layers to blur slightly, but they remained separate, pure and pretty.
He smiled but didn’t answer, merely picking his up and downing it. There was only one way I could keep this conversation going and keep him interested. Fixing my eyes on his again, I tilted my head back and tipped the drink in.
I coughed at the sting before the final layer soothed the ache and washed it all down, leaving behind a slightly sweet taste of honey and almonds. A warmth spread all the way down into the pit of my stomach as my eyes widened. A tingling sort of sensation followed the heat, sinking deeper. I squeezed my legs together, almost instantly aroused.
“Interesting drink,” I said, not sure what had just happened. He let out a small chuckle.
“Only five hundred credits a shot.”
My mouth fell open. It merited me another laugh.
“I told you I’d buy you a drink, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but in the year I was frozen that meant a glass of wine or a beer or something.”
“I think this is better,” he replied, studying me.
“I can’t disagree.”
He gave me a nod, my words evidently pleasing him. But how much? It was too soon to tell.
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