Young Widows Club Read online

  Trish nodded in turn, leaving Pattie the only holdout. Angie watched her friend battle with herself but, after a couple of minutes, she too agreed, managing to look shocked with her own decision.

  * * * *

  Angie tried to smile overtop of her coffee mug at her neighbor, Pattie, but the smile turned into a wince as her stomach did another tumble.

  “Still paying for it, huh?”

  Angie could only nod. She didn’t feel like talking and, as her stomach lurched again, she made her way to the downstairs toilet. As she closed the door and sank down onto the throne for the fourth time, she heard the doorbell.

  “I’ll get it!”

  Pattie sounded cheerful and Angie just groaned. Cheerful was one thing she wasn’t. The overly rich meal and the copious wine, together with the tension implicit in the room, had combined to give her a monster hangover this morning. The muted sound of female voices came through the door and she sighed. The others had arrived.

  She shuddered and cleaned herself then washed her hands and walked back to the kitchen.

  All four of them looked a little the worse for wear, but Pattie seemed the least worn after the evening. Angie glanced at the clock and noted it was almost eleven, the time they were due at Robert’s house.

  “I suppose we’d best get this over with.”

  The others nodded, with Pattie gulping down the rest of her coffee before rising to her feet, and the four met just inside the front door.

  “Group hug!”

  Pattie grinned and the four friends and neighbors hugged each other. Angie had noticed they’d all conformed to their late night decision in the limo to wear summer dresses. Her own seemed conservative compared to Becky’s halter-neck mini-skirt affair which only came to mid-thigh. The other two were somewhere between them and, since she didn’t feel at all sexy, let alone want to feel sexy, Angie didn’t ask to delay in order to change. A minute later they’d crossed the road and Becky rang Robert’s doorbell.

  Their husbands’ ex-boss opened the door within seconds, ushering them through to the family room rather than the dining room this time. The two leather couches faced each other across a huge solid coffee table and, seeing the small pile of envelopes sitting there, they could guess the contents.

  “Good morning, ladies. Please take a seat. Coffee, anyone?”

  The other three nodded and Angie thought about refusing. She didn’t really want any more caffeine in her system to react with the Advil she’d already taken, and the three mugs she’d already downed, but agreed in turn. The others remained quiet as Robert disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a tray carrying five steaming cups he must have pre-prepared before their arrival.

  Robert pulled up a footstool to the end of the table and sat there where he could see all four of them.

  “Right, ladies. Let’s get the embarrassing money question out of the way first, okay?”

  They all nodded in turn and Angie was struck by the way none of them had spoken since they’d arrived.

  “We agreed a fee for last night, and you’ll find it’s in those…” he pointed to the envelopes “…and the guys were all impressed enough to leave a tip, so there’s fifty dollars extra each.”

  Angie gulped. She hadn’t expected a tip, especially after brushing her dinner partner’s hand off her thigh three times during the meal. She’d tried to do it without giving offence but he’d seemed a little off-hand with her when they left.

  Robert sipped his coffee and Angie watched him looking from one to another of the four silent women. Nobody made a move toward retrieving their envelope. When his gaze came to rest on her, she felt herself flush and noticed his eyes twinkling over the mug, her reaction providing him with obvious amusement. The silence grew and she licked her lips.

  “So, ladies. Did you…well, if not enjoy, at least tolerate the experience?”

  Angie blew out her cheeks and decided to speak before any of the others did. “It was a fabulous meal, thank you, and I suppose…yes, you could say I enjoyed it.”

  One by one the other three agreed.

  “Good, so if I need you for more of the same would you be agreeable?”

  “I guess.”

  The others let her take the lead and she surprised herself by agreeing so quickly.

  “Good. There is one problem though, isn’t there, ladies?”

  “Oh?”

  “To provide yourselves with the income you need, you’ll have to do three nights a week at a minimum and I don’t think I can supply that many escort clients.”

  Angie opened her mouth to say something then shut it again. Despite her optimism at coping as well as she had the night before, the idea of doing it on such a regular basis wasn’t appealing. She glanced over to the other women and felt a little exposed by the fact they were all watching the conversation between her and Robert—not joining in themselves. Angie turned her attention back to Robert who’d been watching the silent byplay between them.

  “There’s no nice way to say this, so I’m going to be blunt. There’s no way you can make enough money by doing vanilla escort work.”

  “What?”

  “I said…there’s no way…“

  “No, I heard you. I want to know what you mean by vanilla?”

  Angie had a pretty good idea what he meant, and the series of sharp intakes of breath behind her told her the others had reached the same conclusions she had.

  “From your faces, you already know the answer. Vanilla means no extras. You want more money, you’re going to have to go a step further—actually several steps further.”

  Angie could feel heat rising to her face as her pulse quickened and her breathing sharpened. She rose to her feet, the anger inside her threatening to boil over. “Are you some kind of fucking pimp? Setting yourself up in a new line of business?” Her voice rose in pitch and volume as she fought to control herself. “I am not going to fucking prostitute myself for anyone. You can keep your fucking money!”

  She stormed out, her kitten heels clicking on the wooden floor as she marched to the front door, and opened it—almost forgetting to open the screen door as well—and strode down the driveway. She was aware she was being followed, but she was back inside her own house before turning to find Pattie and Becky with her. A few seconds later Trish walked through the door to join them, having stopped to sweep up the envelopes for the four of them for the previous night’s work.

  The atmosphere in Robert’s family room had been strained and Angie remained livid, but she couldn’t understand why the other three had kept quiet. She took a deep breath, forced her temper down and turned to face the three women.

  “Right. Spill it. Why did you three remain quiet?”

  Pattie hung her head and wouldn’t look her in the eye. Trish licked her lips, held Angie’s gaze for a second, then looked away. Becky stared at her and sighed. A deep knot of suspicion formed in Angie’s stomach.

  “You…you knew, didn’t you? You knew what he was going to say?”

  She watched as Pattie bit her lip, and then she turned her attention to Becky, expecting her to be the one to answer, but instead it was Trish who spoke up for the three of them.

  “Yeah, we knew. Well, I knew, the others suspected it. I’m sorry, Angie, but we kind of guessed how you’d react and I left it to you to do so. Guess I chickened out a bit.”

  Angie took a step toward the other woman, forcing her fists to unclench, and stood nose to nose with her, speaking staccato to keep a rein on her feelings. “How…did…you…know? And why didn’t you tell me?”

  Trish looked back at her calmly, their faces only inches apart, not flinching. “Because the bastard rang me this morning and laid it out for me.”

  “So, he wants to pimp us out as high-class hookers. What does that make you? The madam who turns the fucking occasional trick? Jeez! I never took you for that.”

  Trish stayed calm, although a hint of color tinged her cheeks. Angie took some satisfaction from getting that mu
ch through her guard.

  “Not like that at all. Look, Angie, we’re all in the hole here. No income, no prospect of income, and a monster rent to pay. In a couple of years we’ll all be on our feet again and we can put it behind us. In the meantime, this gives us a chance to stay together as friends and stay in the houses we love, close to the memories of the husbands we loved.”

  “Yeah, by betraying those same fucking memories!”

  This time the barb got through and Angie saw Trish’s eyes tear up, her lip starting to tremble.

  “Why don’t you all get the fuck out of my house and leave me alone.”

  The silence dragged for several seconds until Becky spoke up. “Okay, Angie, but we’ll come back in a couple of hours when we’ve all calmed down a little, okay?”

  She knew her friend was simply trying to play peacemaker so she nodded and, closing the door behind the three of them, leaned against it and hung her head. “Oh, Darrell… What am I going to do?”

  * * * *

  Angie raised her chilled and frosted Margarita glass to her lips and sipped the bitter contents. It was her second and she’d made them strong. She leaned back, allowing the sun to warm her face and bare legs. She still wore her sun dress, although the day felt warm enough for a bikini. Given the conversation she had been planning, a bikini wasn’t the right attire. Almost on cue, a row of three heads appeared over Becky’s fence and she waved her friends over. As they came through the gate, Trish hung back a couple of paces behind the other two, her anxiety obvious.

  “There’s a tray with some more of these in the kitchen. Be a darling and fetch it, Becky, I’m already one up on you three. Grab a chair, everyone.”

  Pattie sank into the lounger opposite her while Trish pulled up a reclining chair beside her but perched on the end of the seat.

  “Temper tantrum over, relax. I’m not mad at you about earlier.”

  Trish tried a wan smile and then took a glass from Becky as she emerged from the kitchen balancing a tray with four drinks on it.

  Pattie looked puzzled. “Four?”

  “Yeah. Well, I thought we might ask his royal pimpness to join us in a bit. Once we’ve talked this through. I think he deserves an answer, to his face, whatever that answer is.”

  “You’ve changed your mind?”

  Angie shrugged in response to Pattie’s question. “Not sure yet. Let’s just say checking my bank accounts reminded me where I stand.”

  Trish finally spoke up. “Yeah, desperate housewives, for sure.”

  “Nope, more the Young Widows’ Club!”

  “I’ll drink to that!”

  The conversation that followed was spirited, and required another round of Margaritas before Angie picked up her cell. Robert answered on the third ring. Angie giggled, the alcohol having its effect.

  “Get your sorry ass over here before the ice in your pimp’s Margarita melts!”

  “Sorry?”

  “You heard me. Get over here.”

  Angie hit the kill call button with a flourish and grinned at her friends. “What’ya reckon? Two minutes or five?”

  They all sat and waited for their husbands’ ex-boss. In fact, he walked around the corner of the house about two minutes later.

  “Afternoon, ladies.”

  Angie motioned toward the table where the last full Margarita sat and pointed to a chair next to the table, a position facing the four of them. “So, Robert…”

  “Yes?”

  “First, let me apologize for shouting at you like that earlier.”

  Robert shrugged. “Understandable. No apology needed.”

  Angie forced a small, tight smile. “We’ve talked about it, and we want to hear what you have to say. I’m not saying we’ll agree to it, but we want to hear the numbers as well.”

  “Numbers?”

  Angie felt her cheeks flush. “Money.” The other possible meaning had been unintended.

  “Oh, that’s all right then.”

  Robert chuckled and the four women joined in with him, the tension somewhat broken. Robert took a sip of his Margarita, raising an eyebrow at the strength of it. He nodded his head in appreciation to Angie who, as hostess, had to have been in charge of providing them.

  “Nice.”

  “Careful, they’re strong. I’m on my third and that’s a little much, even for me.”

  “You’re right. It’s not a good idea to talk business on too many of these.”

  “So quit stalling and lay out the proposition. Hooker one-oh-one, as it were.”

  The other women laughed again and Angie regretted the way they’d persuaded her to take the lead in negotiating with this man.

  Robert put his glass down and leaned forward. “It’s quite simple, really.”

  “Do tell.”

  “I will if you stop interrupting me.”

  Angie acknowledged this with a nod and Robert continued.

  “My idea is this. On Friday and Saturday nights I’m going to throw parties for a few select guests—all male, of course. You four ladies will be the hostesses, just as you were last night, with one major exception.”

  “Let me guess.”

  Robert stared at her. “I’m quite sure you don’t need to guess at all. At some point during the evening you will have, shall we say, an assignation with a guest. That’s it, really.”

  “No. It’s not it, is it?”

  Robert shifted uncomfortably.

  “Spill.”

  “Well, sometimes the guests will be understandably nervous, they’ll want some encouragement.”

  “Encouragement?”

  “Yeah, a little floor show, to get them worked up.”

  “Oh, right. So now we’re not just hookers, we’re strippers too?”

  Robert drew a deep breath and hesitated before continuing. “Probably a bit more than that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The intention is for the guys to fork out a grand each, plus a hundred or so, to cover the drinks and food. That means they’ll want more than just watching a sexy lady gyrate for them as she peels, and more than a quick screw afterwards.”

  Pattie leaned forward, allowing Angie to sit back as she took over questioning him.

  “What exactly do you mean…more?”

  “Well, the floor show will have to be a bit more complicated. Like two of you undressing each other, that sort of thing.”

  Angie giggled. She couldn’t help the fact she felt so light-headed. “You mean you expect Pattie and me to get it on and get down and dirty with each other.”

  “Hey, why did you pick on me?”

  “Simple, sweetie. Men always want to see a brunette and a blonde together.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Duh! I’ve seen enough on-line porn. It’s always a blonde and a brunette, so I guess you’re going to be the busiest of us all.”

  Pattie sniffed and the other women started laughing.

  Robert took another sip on his drink and waited. “That’s not always the case, ladies, but from where I’m sitting it paints an appealing picture.”

  “As long as all it does is paint it, you can close your eyes and think about it all you like.”

  Angie could tell Becky felt pleased with the way color rose to Robert’s cheeks following her barbed comment, and she waited for her friend to go on.

  “So, two of us get naked as a floor show and then what? All out orgy?”

  “Well, I guess it depends on the theme of the party.”

  “Theme?”

  “Well, one party might be set up like a charity auction instead. You know, each of you auction off a kiss, then a dance, then your dresses. You get the idea, I’m sure.”

  They all waited for him to continue.

  “We might set up a games night—you know, poker.”

  “Jeez. How corny can you get? Strip poker? Can’t you do better than that?”

  “Well, poker, pool, something like that. Something to get them interested. After al
l, that’s what it’s about. It might be corny, but it’ll work. Maybe a football night.”

  “As in, we’re the cheerleaders providing the half-time entertainment?”

  Robert smiled and nodded in answer to Trish’s question. “Yeah, or each of you in turn is the prize for the next score. Something like that.”

  Angie decided to get involved in the conversation again. “You’ve got a hell of a nerve, proposing something like that!”

  The smile fell off Robert’s face and he glared at her. “Listen, sweetie. Facts of life here. You want to live in this house, next door to your friends. To do that you need an income. I’m offering you one. You can say no—up to you. But tell me, what are your alternatives? Other than running home to Mommy and Daddy.”

  Trish suddenly sobbed and Angie remembered the other woman had lost both her parents before she’d married Cliff.

  “Low blow, Robert. Low blow.”

  “Sorry, Trish, but I’m just laying out the options for the others. I didn’t mean anything.”

  Angie decided to pursue him for more information. “So, what do you get out of it?”

  He grinned. “Twenty percent and a side benefit.”

  “Twenty percent is a bit high. How about ten?”

  “No, and I still get the side benefit.”

  “Oh, what’s that?”

  He stared at her and Angie felt the color rising to her face yet again. It didn’t take an Einstein to work out his meaning. Once he was satisfied she’d understood him, he looked at each of the others in turn, until they too blushed or looked away.

  “So you want it on tap as well?”

  “I wouldn’t put it quite like that. I’m not that insatiable, but, yes, every so often.”

  “How often?” Angie looked at her friends who had settled back into the pattern of letting her do the talking.

  “Maybe a weeknight once a week, each. Maybe less frequently, but no more.”

  He stared her down and Angie bit her lip as she looked away and stayed silent.

  Robert pressed what he had to see as his advantage. “What? No outrage? No pleading, no negotiating? I’m not impressed. But that’s the deal, ladies. I guarantee you an income of around sixteen hundred dollars a week for two nights work, and one evening a week each. That’s enough to keep you the way you’ve been accustomed to and keep you close to each other.”