"What are
you doing here?" asked Rachel harshly, uncertain whether to run
or attack Stacy and not sure what good either action would do.
"No, I think
your actions are more in need of an explanation than mine." The
room was dark enough that the two women were not able to see each
other's faces clearly, and Rachel could not attempt to read Stacy's
expression.
"If you
overheard my conversation, you should know what I was doing."
"Oh, I know
what you were doing. You were robbing the brothel,
questioning the motives behind the assignment of members, breaching
security, and displaying unhealthy emotional tendencies that qualify
you as being in immediate need of an emergency medical...and doing
all of it without heels on, no less.” She glared at Rachel's bare
feet on the floor. “What I want to know is why you were
doing it."
"I could
tell you," said Rachel. "But what's the point? You
wouldn't understand."
"What makes
you think you're smarter than I am, Rachel? Even if you are, you're
not untouchable."
"I don't
think I'm smarter than you in an intellectual sense. The reason you
wouldn't understand is because you just labeled my motivations as
'unhealthy emotional tendencies.'"
"Why won't
you try to defend yourself?" asked Stacy and Rachel thought she
could hear a hint of doubt creeping into her voice.
"You see, I
can't because the moral system which I believe justifies my actions
is a moral system you don't believe exists. All trying to defend
myself will do is make you want to commit me and, since you already
do, why should I waste my effort?" There was silence, while
Stacy seemed to be considering what to do next. "If you expose
me, Alice won't be Sacrificed and you won't get your precious plant,"
Rachel blurted out suddenly, leaping to her feet. She saw the faint
outline of Stacy's form tense. "Further, if you do anything to
me, Dave will never spend any money here ever again. In fact, he may
even try to ruin the brothel in revenge and he's very powerful
economically. Luther's will
go down the tubes I tell you."
"Are you
threatening me?"
"Yes."
"You seem
very self-assured. How do you know David will defend you? He might
be completely turned off by your mental instability."
"Because he
values myself," hissed Rachel, keeping her voice low with
difficulty. "And because he is 'mentally unstable' by your
definition as well."
"I'm
listening. Go on."
"Dave is a
virgin. He has never been intimate in any way and this is by his own
choice."
"Okay, he is
sounding kind of insane. Is this going to be a long story? Mind if
I sit down?" Stacy came over and sat on the floor and, after a
brief hesitation, Rachel uneasily sat back down next to her. "So,
he's crazy, but why?"
"He doesn't
want to sleep with a woman unless she wants him for himself alone and
not for his money. That is why he will defend me. Because I
can give him what he wants."
"You desire
him that much? But what about Esteban?"
For the second
time that night, Rachel blushed and this time it was far less
pleasant. "Let's not talk about that," she said
defensively. "I hate him and, if I found him alone in an alley,
one of us wouldn't leave whole. But Dave has treated me so well that
I want him to be happy and I want him to know that he has made me
happy."
"How does he
make you happy if he's never even touched you?" Stacy asked with
what almost sounded like longing.
"He treats
me like an equal," said Rachel proudly. "We met because he
was trying to talk about architecture at a party and I was the only
woman who didn't refuse because the topic was 'too intellectual.'"
"You like
talking about architecture?"
"I like
being stimulated mentally, as well as physically. And that's not all
Dave does to encourage my intellectual growth. You know my painting
project that Grace complains about so much?" Stacy nodded.
"The paining supplies were a gift from Dave. He wants me to
have talents and accomplishments and he lends me books he read during
education."
"Doesn't all
that hard complicated stuff make your head hurt?" asked Stacy
crossly.
"Sometimes
it does," Rachel admitted. "The book he lent me is over
several thousand years old. The language is really strange plus I
don't know half the words they use. I can only read for maybe half
an hour before I get the most awful headache. But it makes me feel
the most wonderful sense of accomplishment when I actually understand
what its saying."
"Accomplishment?"
Stacy mused. "The greatest accomplishment I ever felt was
bagging a better looking guy than the one who hired my roommate, or
winning her favorite eye shadow in a card game
“What about all
your spreadsheets and weird financial stuff?” asked Rachel
nervously, not sure if the reminder would make Stacy feel threatened
or like they had something in common.
Sure enough,
Stacy frowned. “We don't talk about that,” she said crossly.
“It's the dirty job no one else wants to do. But even so, they
can't just leave me to it. I could have us in so much better shape
if I was making all the decisions. But, since common wisdom is that
managing money requires no talent, others...” Despite her own
situation, Rachel felt a greedy longing to know who the “Others”
were Stacy was speaking of so angrily. “...others see nothing
wrong with casually making financial decisions when it's convenient
for them and then going about their business and leaving me to deal
with the consequences. Or even, how they just stop and log their own
hours when they happen to be around the computer, thinking they're
doing me a favor but, as they completely refuse to even try to learn
my system, they just muck up the spreadsheets. I have to spend at
least half the time correcting all the errors they make. It all
makes me feel like I'm running in place on a treadmill, not
accomplishing anything. But buying a plant...now that would be an
accomplishment.”
"Then let us
help one another," Rachel whispered eagerly. "I will help
you accomplish your desire of getting a plant if you help me
accomplish my desire of being with Dave."
"Sorry but I
can't agree to that," Stacy said with anger in her voice
"Why not?"
cried Rachel defensively.
"Because, if
I do, you'll think I'm doing it for the money. It's perfectly
obvious that you think I'm horribly shallow and you're somehow
superior to everyone else. So, here you go. Enjoy your sick, creepy
emotions without any hindrance from me. Just remember, I'm not the
brain-washed money grubber you take me for. I can be just as fucked
up in the head as you." Stacy stood up, groping at her side as
if for a purse that wasn't there and Rachel thought she could hear
her crying as she moved off towards the door.
"Wait,"
Rachel called softly. "How did you find me? I had the stairway
watched."
"I came down
through the kitchen, of course," said Stacy, her voice distorted
in what was possibly an effort to hide her tears. Then she was gone.
Rachel sat still for a moment, calming her nerves, before creeping
back down the hallway to Alice. But she made sure she replaced the
phone and reattached its decorative cord before leaving.
"So, how did
it go?" asked Alice when they were safely back in their room.
"The
conversation went very well," Rachel replied.
"Conversation?
What conversation?"
Rachel clapped
her hand over her mouth. In her panic caused by encountering Stacy
she had completely forgotten that Alice didn't know she had called
Dave. "Oh...ah...well...you see." She hated telling the
truth when it was so embarrassing. "I actually called Dave but
it's okay because he said he was going to go find Susan for us."
"Well, that
was smart thinking," said Alice. "He has a lot more
resources than we do. But how did you contact him and why didn't you
tell me your plan?"
"I can't
tell you that," said Rachel wretchedly. "I know I
shouldn't lie to you, so I'm not going to anymore. But I don't feel
comfortable telling the truth, so don't ask me to say anything."
"I suppose
that's fair," said Alice uncertainly. Rachel burst into tears
and Alice came over and hugged her. "Don't worry about it,"
she said softly. "You've had a long night and you're tired.
Just go to sleep. I'll play you some music." Overcome with
relief that Alice wasn't making an issue of her deception, Rachel
allowed herself to be be soothed by the rippling notes of the harp
and drift away into an exhausted sleep, able to escape for a few
hours from all her worries. Would Alice continue to be this
understanding, would Stacy think better of her promise to keep
Rachel's secret, and how in the world would she avoid making an idiot
of herself in front of Dave when he returned?
Fortunately she
did not have to remain in this torment for long. Only three days
later, the summons finally came that Rachel had both feared and so
eagerly awaited. The brothel received a message that Dave had come
back and wanted to see Rachel within the hour. Rachel was frantic.
She had done almost nothing but dream of this moment since they had
last spoken. But what to do? What to wear? And only an hour for
everything. To save time, she decided to wear her hair down and just
stuck it into the hair machine for a wash and press. Before putting
her hair in the machine, Rachel pulled a mirror up in front of the
seat so she could apply her make-up while the machine was doing its
work. Once she had finished this, she checked the status of her
hair, puzzled that it was not done yet and realized to her horror
that she had accidentally also set the machine to apply fresh
highlights. She didn't know if Dave liked highlights or not, but
there was nothing that could be done now. She wore her blue boned
top, hoping he would remember how she had worn it the second time
they met, with high silver boots and silver jewelry to match the
silver shade she had chosen for her make-up. Finally ready, she took
a last look at herself in the mirror. The highlights hadn't come out
looking too horrible, though she did look a bit different than usual.
But something was not quite right about her breasts. She didn't
think they looked round enough to set off the neckline of the tight
bodice and wished she had taken a fullness pill. But too late now.
If she took it this minute, it wouldn't take effect for at least
another hour, especially because all she had on hand were off brand
pills and she certainly was not going to ask the other women for any.
Her thoughts were
interrupted by a loud banging on her door and Stacy's voice called
in, "Rachel, your ride is here." Her heart pounding,
Rachel sprang up and ran to the door. Stacy gave her a look as she
came out. "I let you go for this," she whispered severely.
"Make it worth my while."
"Believe me,
I will," Rachel replied with equal intensity. She raced down
the stairs, struggling not to trip in her heels.
"You better
be careful," mocked Elissa, who was sitting at the front desk,
as Rachel came stumbling past. "If you fall and bruise or cut
yourself, you won't be considered fit to go out." Rachel
flicked her off in passing as she hurried out the door. Dave's
Vis11s transport was hovering in the middle of the street and he was
waiting at the foot of the stairs coming down from it. At the sight
of him, Rachel felt as if the breath had been knocked out of her.
Though she had dreamed of him all the time they had been apart, she
had forgotten how beautiful he was, how overwhelming his presence
was. This couldn't be real. She felt like she had been turned to
stone and could not make herself move and thought desperately that
she probably looked like a total fool right now.
©Amanda RR Hamlin 2026
