Janeen seats me at the kitchen table while she fixes us both another drink. When she slides into the seat across from me, her face is gentler and more considerate than it was before. I sigh, grateful for it – Janeen has always teased me, and I don’t really care about that, but this is the big sister I came to see. The one who I know has my back through anything.
“Fay,” she starts gently. “Does this contract make you feel like a whore?”
“Um,” I hesitate, awkward, but really considering her question. “I guess…that was my knee jerk reaction? That he was asking me to be his whore, to pay me for sex?”
“And would that be a…bad thing?” she asks carefully, her hands wrapped around her drink. “To be paid for sex?”
I blush as I look away from my sister, realizing that I might have done something very wrong here. I mean, my sister doesn’t get paid to have sex with people – at least, I don’t think she does – but she’s certainly in an industry that has no shame about taking men’s money in exchange for turning them on.
“It’s okay, Fay,” Janeen encourages me softly. “You can tell me what you think, you won’t hurt my feelings.”
“Well,” I reply, turning back to her. “I guess – no, I don’t think it’s a bad thing. I don’t have any problem with sex work, as long as women are respected when they do it and aren’t exploited. I’m just not sure that it’s something I’ve ever imagined myself doing.” I look down at my drink, feeling a little ashamed and not quite knowing why.
“Amongst other things,” I murmur, glaring at her, and she laughs, taking a swig and returning her glass to the table.
“Fay,” she continues as I take a sip of my own drink, looking over the contract. “What it all comes down to is what you want. Because it sounds like you’re already deep within this world, and I think,” she gives me a careful look here, inviting me to tell her she’s wrong, “that you like it there. That you want to stay in it. Because if you don’t, we can pawn that gigantic engagement ring right now and get you on the next plane to Belize.”
I blink at her, wondering what she’s talking about, and then look down at my hand to realize that I’m still wearing Daniel’s engagement ring. I stare at it, shocked, and realize that she’s right – right about all of it. That I could run, if I wanted to, but …
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