"So...nothing at all like my Antosha?" she teased with a smile as she examined the knife. "It does look like something he would have, doesn't it?"
Anton had been as close to an actual
boyfriend as she had ever come, meeting with him a few times a year and occasionally taking John along with her. They would go for dinner or to the playhouse or something similar; once he had taken her for a trip around the bay on his boat. She had liked him immensely, and was sad when after ten years he commented seriously about how long they had known each other and how she looked the same as the evening they had met. She had stopped seeing him after that, and last she heard he'd gone back to Moscow and was much happier with his second wife. She was sure that her absence probably had something to do with that. Still, they had tried going back to St. Paul once and one of his grandchildren had recognized her from stories he had told them as children. They had both played it off as coincidence and laughed about it, but that was enough to make her a little shy about going back to Alaska for the next decade or two.
"Yes, some big, stupid brute. I've had my fill for now of posh bastards who think they can take what they want because they're rich." Ben hadn't exactly been posh, but certainly of higher social regard, and she had spent the night with a few men over the years who had thought the same. "Give me someone who
knows he can take whatever he wants because he's strong." She smirked and watched him think before laying out his plan. It was perfect.
~*~
"How much?"
"I beg your pardon?" Jenny was a little chilly in the early Spring evening as she waited on a street corner near what she knew was one of the more upscale brothels of the city. They'd been there a number of times over the years and were pleased with how well Drusilla had done for herself. Of course she was thought of as the "old madame" now, but considering the bedraggled little gutter whore they'd picked up thirty years ago and taught how to dress and act--between fucking her, of course--Jenny was very proud of how far she'd come. She'd gone to the brothel earlier to ask permission to look for business near the house since it was so well known for its upscale clientele, and because she'd reminded Dru so much of an old friend who had done so much for her she'd naturally been allowed to. A couple of backalley fucks against an old wooden fence and a blowjob on the hard pavement, but
this man was what she'd been looking for. She didn't know where John was at the moment, but maybe watching her go out on a date with someone else might encourage the kind of jealous violence she was looking for.
"How much?" he repeated, before leaning in. "For your...
services. I mean, you
are with the House, are you not?" He inclined his head toward the townhouse where Dru did her business.
"Aye..." she answered slowly, "but how much depends on what it is you want, love. Man like you looks like he could show a girl a good time if he wanted. The missus too busy with her bridge club to come out with you?" He fidgeted with his hat and mumbled something under his breath and she smiled gently. "So it's the mistress experience then. We'll go to a play or a symphony or something, then it's back to the club to show off your prize to the boys while you play cards, and I show you exotic and unknown lands a few times, yeah?" Once he'd managed an embarrassed nod--clearly he hadn't done this often before, if at all--she smiled and took his arm and started walking with him as though they were a proper lady and gentleman out for an evening stroll. "Fifty dollars for the first three hours. May charge extra depending on what you want and how long you're gonna keep me, but I'll tell you beforehand if I do." The sun was barely beginning to set; she likely stood to get at least a hundred off the poor man before the night was through and John raped and robbed the whore.
"Well, that seems reasonable," the toff said, sounding relieved and indicating that he was wealthy enough she would get perhaps more than a hundred. Jenny smiled.
"I try to be. Name's Shannon Wiles."
"Montgomery," he returned. "But I've noticed you're...I mean...I don't mean to be rude, but could you try to be..."
"A little less Irish?" Jenny smiled though inwardly raged at the prejudice which still plagued her people here, even as she changed the way she held her mouth and tongue to imitate Cutler Beckett's accent. He had been posh, after all. "Get it all the time, love. I imagine your friends wouldn't be quite as impressed with an Irish whore, would they?" She smiled and winked as they passed John, who was casually leaning against a lamp post as though waiting for someone.
"Thank you." Montgomery sounded relieved. "I personally have nothing against you people, it's just--Ah! Thaddeus old man, how
have you been?"
She was introduced as Miss Wiles, an up-and-coming socialite and daughter of a close family friend visiting from upstate, to the portly and prodigiously-mustached Thaddeus, monacled Archie, and John, the only man near Montgomery's age and an Englishman. John had also brought a young lady, introduced as his wife's niece though the two women exchanged knowing looks with one another. Somewhere near the aria Miss Winters disappeared from their box seat and John excused himself shortly after. Jenny for her part discretely slid her hand into Montgomery's lap and undid his trousers, using a handkerchief to make sure he didn't make a mess as the second act reached its climax. After the opera they retired to their gentleman's club, where Jenny pretended to know nothing about poker or how terrible a gambler Montgomery was and instead opted to sit on his lap and learn this man's game while providing him a generous view of her decolletage. Englishman John kept watching her in a way which reminded her of some sort of predatory animal, but she paid it no mind. She could kick his arse six ways to Sunday if he tried anything, and she'd seen her
husband John following at a discrete distance and knew he could back her up if she for some reason couldn't handle the toff herself.
"Ooooh you're such a bad boy, Monty," Jenny moaned as she rode him on a creaky bed in the back room of the club, unaware that Englishman John lurked at the door to listen to them. "You're so naughty and wicked."
"Tell me how wicked I am, goddess," Montgomery begged, sitting up and burying his face in her breasts as he wrapped his arms around her middle.
"You're such a wicked man," she panted, gripping his hair and pulling so he was forced to look at her, "you deserve punishment."
"Punish me, goddess! Punish me so that I may learn to properly worship at your altar!"
Jenny slapped him sharply, earning a gasp and a look of shock from him. "Sounds an awful lot like you're trying to tell your goddess what to do," she said threateningly, burying his cock deep inside her but no longer moving on him.
"No, goddess!" he gasped, peppering her neck and breasts with kisses. "No, I would never! Please...!"
~*~
"Thank you for a very lovely evening, Miss Wiles," Montgomery said as they stood beneath a street light near Drusilla's brothel.
"Oh, thank
you, Monty," Jenny returned, pocketing $300, twice what she'd asked.
"Tell me, may I...may I call on you again some time, Shannon?" He took both her hands in his and smiled genuinely at her. "I would like very much to take you to dinner. Do you like the ballet? The Russian Ballet is doing Don Quixote this Wednesday, if you would like, just you and me. I happen to like your natural accent much better." The way he smiled at her broke her heart.
"It's a date," she promised, squeezing his hands. A clock somewhere struck ten and she saw her husband over his shoulder waiting across the street. "But I'm afraid your wife is waiting for you, and it wouldn't do to keep her waiting up." She smiled and leaned up to kiss his cheek. "Wednesday, you naughty boy."
He turned his cheek so that he caught her lips and pulled her close. "Wednesday, goddess." With that Montgomery dashed off to be seen catching a handsome in a better part of town. Jenny turned to walk toward the slums and as she did saw that John had disappeared. She smiled and started humming quietly to herself, drawing her shawl tighter around her shoulders as she heard someone following her at a distance.
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