1
SYDNEY
“If you’re planning to pack all that, I think you’re going to need more than just one suitcase,” my best friend, Clara, teases as I throw an armful of clothes from my dresser drawer onto the bed. I merely roll my eyes as I grab another armful of clothes and chuck them onto the mattress too.
“Yeah, but you never know,” I intone for the millionth time. “London is a crazy place, so I’ve heard. Sunny one day, and hailing pellets the next. Who knows? I don’t want to be caught unprepared.”
Clara throws my huge pile a look.
“But will you really need three raincoats, six sets of stripper heels, and let’s see—” she takes a moment to count all the purses that are scattered carelessly on the mattress. “Fourteen purses?”
I merely giggle.
“Don’t worry, girl, because I’m not packingallof this. I just wanted to see all my options because options are a girl’s best friend! Besides, I love my purses and stripper heels. You know that. I’m not complete without them.”
That statement makes Clara laugh, her brown curls trembling with mirth.
“OMG, you’re so bad, Syd. Just imagine if Mr. Kerfew from high school knew what you were doing now. He thought you were such a great student, and that you were going to be an astronaut or something! Or at least an accountant.”
I roll my eyes.
“OMG, can you imagine me as an accountant? There’s nothing more unlikely. But I know what you’re saying because it’s such a waste that I went to a top-ranked high school. I mean, parents pull all sorts of strings to get their kids into Stuyvesant thinking it’s a straight shot to Harvard, but it was just squandered on me. Instead, I ended up becoming a call girl. Who would have guessed?”
“Well, at least you’re a high-end call girl,” Clara muses. “That must count for something!”
I merely giggle.
“Yeah, I guess. But going high-end in this profession is the only way to survive, in my opinion,” I say. “Who wants to be a street walker? Besides, escorting keeps me busy because you know I’m working for two outfits at the moment, right?”
Clara looks puzzled.
“No, I had no idea. I thought you were just doing stuff with Club Z here in New York.”
I nod.
“I am, but I also hooked up with a hotel in Vegas called the Corinthian. They needed more girls to cater to their high-rollers, and so I signed up. They fly me to Vegas on select weekends, and let’s just say the cash is good. It’s better than good, in fact. It’s supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.”
Clara’s brown eyes go round.
“Are you serious?”
I nod.
“Hell yeah. I’m raking in crazy dough during my weekends in Vegas. Honestly, sometimes I wonder if I should even get out of bed if I’m not going to make at least five figures that day.”
Clara’s jaw drops as she stares at me.
“Holy shit. And here I am, making five figures peryearas a teacher.”
I shrug and grin.
“Yeah, but you’ve made our high school teachers proud, Clare. I mean, you’re exactly the type of upstanding, morally-grounded citizen that makes our country proud.”
She just shakes her head, picking at a stray thread on my coverlet.
“Still, five figures a day is a lot, Syd. Imagine what I could do with that,” she whispers to herself. “I could pay down my debt, and maybe even buy a car.” That’s when I gently nudge her.
“Yeah, but you could become a call girl too if you wanted, girlfriend. I mean, you’re pretty enough and you’re sassy. Men like that, you know,” I say with a meaningful look.