girls that go that route give up their real name, their identity, everything, because they’re with men who can’t be seen doing what they’re doing or ever be connected with that part of society under any circumstance. We protect all of our clients, but for these men we also take care of travel and security. They don’t just walk into The Rex. They show up in private cars to events and use service entrances in the night. These are politicians, judges, powerful men who shape the world. Those are the men the Elite girls entertain. You will become an Elite girl.” Gen touched the corner of her coaster. “Do you have questions?”
“Yes.”
“Ask them.”
“All right.” I took a deep breath. “How does this work, exactly? How do I meet clients?”
“We don’t have a dedicated room where men come to meet our Elite girls. We hold events. Some of the events will take place at The Rex, where we are the hosts. Some will be at other locations. Mansions, private estates, nightclubs, even ski resorts. Those sorts of places. We are their guests at such events. Sometimes we fly girls out to private locations, with security of course. Dubai, Paris, London.”
“Okay,” I said, gripping my thigh to keep myself steady and alert.
“But you will choose the men you sleep with. Every girl does. No man can claim a woman; he can only make her an offer. The choice is always yours. Security does not tolerate any sort of force whatsoever when it comes to our girls. You will be protected by men who are absolute professionals.
“The keys I discussed earlier, the pendants; they are more than symbols. The keys signal to our clients what you’re available for, but they can’t take them from you or claim you. They will have to”—she paused and smiled—“woo you into choosing them for the evening. Once you choose a client, you give him your key. No money exchanges hands from them to you, and you never ask for, or talk to them about money. All of that is already taken care of, and security knows every client by face and name. They are all vetted and have accounts with us. You and our clients are watched like a hawk from the moment you begin speaking to them to the moment you begin to entertain them.”
I blinked in confusion. “Hold on. I really get to choose?”
“You get to choose,” she repeated.
“But isn’t that—well, doesn’t that seem counterintuitive? If a man wants to pay for sex, why are we giving them hoops to jump through?”
“These men are alpha males. They enjoy the chase; no, they thrive on it. The Rex is not an average hotel and The Fifteenth Floor is not your average brothel. Just like our clients, The Rex is elite. Everyone who works here is elite in some fashion. The bartenders, security, everyone. The Rex stands for the best, and in our world of decadence and sin, our girls are desired worldwide.
“The way we operate means that our clients never grow bored. It’s not just about sex, Sterling. It’s about the art of seduction, and the keys given by our women are like trophies to them. You’re not regular prostitutes,” she emphasized. “You’re courtesans. We use our femininity, our sensuality, and our minds to charm them into wooing us. It’s reverse psychology at its finest, a clever game of cat and mouse where they see a woman they want, and even if they’ve already been chosen by her in return, they have to earn their time with her. After a night with you, they will feel like they have really won something of value that can’t be bought with any amount of money, and they’ll have a key to prove it.”
She cocked her head to the side and studied me. “If it was just about sex, we’d do things like every other high-class escort business. They’d come in, pick a girl on looks alone, have sex with her, and then leave. But that market is saturated, and believe it or not, men grow bored of that. Particularly these men.”
She’d thrown a lot of information at me, but the only thing I focused on was the fact that Rex girls got to choose who they slept with.
“I need to use the restroom,” I murmured, slipping off the stool.
“Other side of the room.” Genevieve pointed.
I grabbed my clutch and almost jogged to the bathroom, but I forced myself to keep my steps steady. I was retreating—and I was