sure Genevieve knew it. It was one thing to discuss the idea in the abstract. It was quite another to venture forward with the details.
I quickly found the empty restroom. I took a moment to grip the marble counter. Forcing my gaze into the glass, I studied my reflection.
“You can do this,” I whispered to myself. “You have to do this. Stop looking scared. Stop looking like a wounded bird. She sees it all.”
I opened my clutch and found the mint tin and popped a tiny breath freshener. After the quick reprieve, I headed back to the bar.
Gen impassively watched me stride across the empty room toward her. She was a keen observer and even though I didn’t know her, I found that I admired her shrewd acumen, her discerning eye, her ability to cut through the bullshit and tell me what I needed to know.
I settled on the stool and set my clutch aside.
“Better?” she asked with wry amusement.
I arched a brow. “Better than what?”
She chuckled knowingly and then picked up where we’d left off. “All of The Rex girls go through a six-week training period—”
“I don’t have six weeks. The car accident…I’m on camera...I need a new identity now.”
Genevieve paused for a moment and then said, “Okay. There’s an event three days from now. You will be there.” Her eyes bored into mine. “Due to your circumstances, I’ll skip the formalities and you can train later. If you give your key away to a client at the event, the job is yours and you will become an Elite tier Rex girl. We’ll get you set up with a new identity, a new social, a new name. Your old life will be dead to you. As far as the world will know, you’ll have suffered a terrible car accident and been buried hastily, without family. We’ll publish an obituary in the local paper to confirm your death. The old you simply won’t exist. That’s what we do. You’ll be completely anonymous in your new life, and more importantly, you’ll be safe. Now, pour yourself a second drink and finish it quickly so we can move on to phase two.”
I blinked. “Phase two?”
“Phase two is the physical exam.”
Chapter Six
Hours later I was back in Tiffany’s plush apartment, curled up on the couch with a red and black wool blanket around my shoulders. My mind glided over the events of the afternoon—and I realized I was processing everything with a clear sort of detachment.
I’d seen a doctor who had drawn my blood to test for any abnormalities or blood-borne diseases and to confirm I was actively taking birth control, and then she’d given me a gynecological exam. She’d been gentle and efficient, but I felt violated, nonetheless.
I’d also had to stand naked in front of Genevieve, who’d studied my body like I was a piece of livestock. It was beyond intimate, and there was no part of my being that hadn’t been examined.
Somehow, I’d managed to remain aloof and disconnected, realizing that at some point I’d have to bare all to a man I’d give my key to.
“We’re not looking for perfection,” Genevieve stated after I’d slid back into my dress. “We’re not looking for a perfect stomach or a size four woman with a specific hair color. Women come in all shapes and sizes. This is about making sure you aren’t trying to hide track marks or scars from self-harm.”
Genevieve had told me to come back to The Rex the next morning at nine for my spa and salon appointment. After, she’d get me sorted with an outfit for the event.
I was beginning to feel like a doll being dressed up. None of it felt real and I was having trouble wrapping my mind around what I had agreed to do.
Tiffany blew through the door and then locked it before striding across the floor, her heels clacking against wood.
“Hey gal,” she said, eyeing me warily. She set her clutch down on the coffee table and took a seat next to me, crossing her legs. She was wearing dark skinny jeans and a rhinestone bustier. She looked oddly ready for a night out. I glanced at the clock. It was only seven p.m. Fatigue made it feel like two in the morning.
“How was the interview?” she asked.
“Long,” I said.
She plucked the mug of tea from my hand and sniffed it. “There’s no bourbon in this.”
I smirked. “No. Just good old-fashioned chamomile.”
She fell silent and then said, “Okay, let’s hear it.”