“And even if I was in love with him, I still wouldn’t let someone watch.”
“I know, I know. I know you’re not that kind of girl.” He smoothed his hand over her hair.
“Sweet Grace,” he said, and she thought she saw tears in his eyes.
“Please, Grace. I haven’t asked much of you, have
I?
“
He hadn’t. Up until now, he’d been nothing but generous and loving toward her.
“And I’ve done a lot for you. Grace,” he said.
“I’m asking you to do just this one thing for me.”
She tried to remember how cute Joey had looked on the beach the day before, with the sun in his hair, and the way he’d grin when she’d strike just the right pose. She closed her eyes, blocking her most recent image of him: the glassy eyes, the sloppy mouth. She was seventeen. Practically no one her age was still a virgin. Even Bonnie had done it a few times. What could it hurt?
She opened her eyes and looked at Brad.
“All right,” she said.
“But … the lights have to be really dim.”
Brad smiled.
“You’re a good egg,” he said.
“Wait here.”
She sat down on the bed. Her hands were damp and clammy, and she pressed them against her dress to dry them. What was she doing? She thought of all Brad had done for her. He’d paid for her classes. He’d charmed her mother into accepting her modeling. This was not such a huge favor. It was time she knew what it was like to make love to a man, anyhow. This just wasn’t the place—or the way—she’d expected to do it.
In a few minutes. Brad and Joey walked into the room. Neither of them said a word to her. Brad nipped off the lights, leaving just one dresser lamp burning, then sat in a chair in the corner. Joey instantly began unbuttoning his shirt, walking toward her.
She stood up and reached behind her back to unzip her dress, but Joey turned her around with a hand on her shoulder.
“I’ll do that,” he said. He lowered the zipper, then slipped the spaghetti straps from her shoulders. As her dress fell to the floor, Joey pulled back the covers on Brad’s bed. Then he reached behind her back to unfasten her bra, glancing briefly at her bare breasts before lowering her panties.
“Hop in,” he said.
She did as she was told, glad to be covered over. Joey unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants and lowered them to the floor, along with his shorts. She caught a glimpse of his penis, which looked impossibly huge, as he climbed into the bed next to her. When he kissed her, she shut her eyes, wondering if that speck of dip was still in the corner of his lips.
It lasted only a few minutes. Joey was not rough or mean, but he was mechanical and she felt nothing except fear and humiliation. She yelped when he entered her and gritted her teeth against the pain, praying that he would be quick. He was. When he was finished, he raised himself above her, smiling to the air, not to her. He climbed off her and out of the bed and dressed in silence. As he walked out of the room, Grace turned to look at the chair where Brad had been sitting. It was empty.
She dressed quickly and escaped from the suite without seeing Brad, without even looking for him. Once back in her own room, she took a long bath, too numb even to cry. She was in her robe, ready to get into bed, when someone knocked on her door. She froze.
“Grace?” It was Lucy, one of the other models. Not Brad. Not Joey.
Breathing a sigh of relief, she opened the door a crack, and was surprised by the look of concern on Lucy’s face.
“Are you all right?”
Lucy asked.
Why would she ask her that? Did she know what had happened? Grace felt her cheeks bum.
“I’m fine,” she said.
Lucy folded her arms across her chest.
“You know, you’re one of us now,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“This is the way Brad pays off his debts,” she said.
“His debts?”
“He owed Joey for the coke. You were the payment.”
“I … don’t understand,” she said, although she was afraid she did.
“Yes, you do, honey,” Lucy said.
“And you’d better get used to it.”
