Cherry Pie

Pretty Woman

[Rayne]

Dean opened the car door for me and offered me his hand to help me get out. Despite the heels and the floor-length dress, I thought I managed to do it rather gracefully.

We had parked on the side of the street a little ways from the club because if they had pulled up to the front, the valet would have taken it who-knows-where and Dean and Sam preferred their weapons close.

The club was a part of what looked like to be an old abandoned factory. It was decorated with white lights and a neon sign displaying the name. I would have thought it was a trashy overpriced bar if it weren't for the crowd of elegantly dressed people lined up at the front.

Dean and Sam came to stand on either side of me and I slipped my arms through the crooks of their elbows. "Shall we, gentlemen?"

"Just remember to channel your inner Pretty Woman," Dean snickered.

The bouncer studied the forged invitations carefully but I guess we painted a rather impressive picture because he let all of us go through. He didn't even ask who I was or what I was doing there; it was like I was nothing but an accessory on Dean and Sam's arms. I was beginning to realize just how many escorts must have walked through those doors.

The inside of the club was the complete opposite of the outside. It was decorated with Corinthian style white pillars, gold ceiling trimmings, candles, statues of marble women draped in stone coverings, and a giant crystal chandelier in the middle of the ballroom. Classical music was playing softly in the background. The place looked like the love child of the Victorian era and The Vatican. An odd combination, but somehow it worked.

Waiters carrying glasses of whiskey, rather than champagne, were traversing the room and men were conversing in small groups, clouds of cigar smoke hanging above them. I noticed that nearly every group had one or two women amongst them. I guessed that would be my job very soon.

Leaning into Dean, I whispered, "Showtime?" 

He nodded. "Showtime." He then bent down till his lips were near my ear. "Remember," he added quietly, "I'll have you in my sights the whole time." He told me this in a reassuring tone, rather than a menacing one, and so when the two of them gently nudged me, I actually found the courage to walk forward. I peeked behind me but they had already blended in with the crowds.

I began my sashay into what I was imagining to be a pool of very hungry sharks. Each man's eyes roamed over my body unreservedly and greedily. I was simply there for them to have something to look at. I titled my chin up, pulled my shoulders back, and had my gaze pointed straight ahead. I knew I should have tried to appear more welcoming, but being put on display like that made me sick to my stomach. I was hoping I appeared dignified and mysterious rather than angry.

Pausing to appreciate one of the statues I felt something move my hair away from my face. Before I could turn, an uncomfortably warm and almost sticky breath reached my ear. "And who might you be, my dear?" someone asked in a sultry voice.

Swiveling in my heels, I came face to face with a tall, broad shouldered man in his mid thirties. He was the only one wearing a white tuxedo in the room and it made his tanned skin look even more bronzed. His eyes were a pale, lifeless blue, and his dark stubble matched the wavy hair on his head. He was beautiful in a very unearthly and unapproachable kind of way.

I plastered a fake smile on my face. "I'm Cherry," I replied, using the first name that came to mind. For some reason I didn't want him knowing my real name. The more I could pretend to be someone I wasn't, the easier this would all be.

He studied me approvingly. "You're new here."

"This is quite a party." I leaned in to adjust his bow-tie, hoping that action would come across as flirty.