Taylor lagged behind Dede and Desiree as they made a run from the car to the hotel room at the EconoMo. Desiree was squealing: “My hair is going to frizz.”
Dede led the way, to the doorway of Room 217. She knocked first, even though she held a key in her hand.
Pressing her hands onto the door, she spoke in an urgent voice. “It’s me.”
Then she thrust the plastic key in the slot and opened the door partway, just far enough to stick her head through.
“Tony?”
Taylor had caught up to them. She wiped the tears from her cheeks. When she pulled her hands away, the light shining out of Room 217 revealed traces of mascara on her wet fingertips.
Following Dede’s lead, they stepped inside the room. It was a double, with two beds. The mattresses were covered by dingy bedspreads in a pattern of tan and brown. A dark-haired man with a tattoo on his neck sat in a chair by the desk, his legs crossed: Tony. When they walked inside and Dede shut the door behind them, he rose from his seat.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” he said with a laugh.
He had an accent that Taylor couldn’t place: not the Southwest Missouri twang, but a Southern drawl. He wasn’t that tall, not nearly as tall as her dad in St. Louis; maybe about her mom’s height. But he had the arms and shoulders of a body builder, and his ink-covered muscles were on display in a tight blue T-shirt.
“You girls are wet as sop. Dede, what have you done?”
Dede flashed a nervous smile. “It’s pouring rain out there. They were wet when I picked them up.”
Taylor could read the unspoken message in Dede’s tone: Not my fault. She’s scared of him, Taylor thought.
That made Taylor scared of him, too.
Tony walked over to the desk and adjusted the position of his laptop computer.
“Okay, girls. We’re going to see what you’ve got.”
Desiree gave a wide pageant smile. “Do you want to see me walk?”
Without waiting for an invitation, she pranced across the worn carpet, pivoted, and walked back, her hand poised on her hip. When she came to a stop, she flipped her curly hair over her shoulder.
“That’s my sassy walk. I can do a fashion walk, too, if you want to see that. It’s for the runway.”
Dede and Tony exchanged a look. Dede coughed into her hand, while he put an arm around Desiree’s shoulders.
“That was sweet, hon. Just darling. But we want something a little more grown-up. I’ve got a chance to get you in a lingerie catalogue.”
Desiree’s eyes glowed. “Love it!”
“So let’s get y’all camera-ready. Dede, show them what we have for them to model.”
Dede unzipped a black nylon suitcase. Taylor craned her neck to see what was inside: a jumble of wadded clothes. She made an involuntary face of disgust; they looked used, dirty.
Dede pulled out a pink teddy and a thong. “Pink would be good for her,” she said, tossing it at Desiree. Digging deeper into the suitcase, she said, “Maybe red for the black girl.”
Taylor’s spine stiffened. “I’m not wearing that stuff.”
The room fell silent. Desiree clutched the pink underwear to her chest, sending Taylor a pleading look. Dede shot a look at Tony.
Tony walked up behind Taylor and caressed the back of her neck. She jerked away from the touch.
“Oh baby,” he said, his voice crooning. “You’re all nervous. All worked up. Sit down, baby.”
He took her by the elbow. She let him lead her to one of the beds, where she sat on the edge. He stood in front of her and squeezed her shoulders.
“Feel how tight you are. You need to relax. A girl’s got to relax, if she’s gonna be any good at this.”
Taylor swallowed, staring down at the floor, focusing on her feet. She felt a scream building in her chest. If he didn’t stop touching her, she was afraid the scream would escape.
But something about him kept the scream bottled inside. She wasn’t sure what he’d do if she made a noise. His arms were on either side of her; she glanced over, saw that he had more ink on his forearm, a picture of a creature baring sharp fangs.
“Dede, make these girls a magic drink. So they can relax a little bit. Desiree, you hustle into that lingerie and hop up on that bed facing the laptop. You can go first, so your friend can see how it’s done.”
Desiree ran into the bathroom, closing the door with a click. Over on the dresser, Dede was pouring liquid into a cup. She dropped a couple of ice cubes into the cup and handed it to Tony.
Tony advanced on Taylor, holding out the red plastic cup. She shook her head.
“I don’t drink.”
He smiled, beaming down at her in approval.
“Well, that’s just fine. That’s real smart. Booze makes a girl’s face all puffy. Did you know that?”
He loomed over her. He seemed to expect her to respond.
“No,” she whispered.
“Well, it’s the damn truth. Just look at Dede over there. Used to be tight as hell, but now that she’s a boozehound, she’s getting the old moon face.” He raised his voice. “Ain’t that right, Dede?”
Dede crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him with a pout. Taylor peeked around Tony and inspected Dede covertly. Actually, she could kind of see what Tony was talking about. Dede had puffy bags under her eyes.
Taylor shifted her gaze to Tony. His face was baggy, too. And he had broken veins around his nose.
He put an arm around her shoulder. “This little old drink doesn’t have a drop of alcohol in it. Just try it, you’ll see. Tastes like fruity punch. It’ll hydrate you. Models need to stay hydrated.”
Taylor accepted the cup and took a tentative sip. It didn’t taste like liquor, not that she’d had much experience with alcohol. But he was right; it tasted like fruit punch, maybe with extra cherry flavoring.
And she was thirsty. Maybe because she was so nervous, and she’d sweated a lot during the basketball game. She tipped the cup up and drank.
Desiree emerged from the bathroom, dressed in the pink lingerie. When Taylor saw her friend in the overhead light, she gasped and looked away, mortified. The teddy was see-through. Desiree’s nipples were visible; she could even see a triangle of dark blond pubic hair through the lacy thong.
Desiree cleared her throat. “Is this for Veronica’s Secret or something?”
“Baby! You’re gorgeous!” Tony rose from the bed, strode over to Desiree, and wrapped her in a bear hug. “You’re so hot, you gonna set this room on fire.”
When he released her, she stood uncertainly, her shoulders hunched, as if to keep the teddy from touching her chest.
“Is it a catalogue shoot? Who for? My mom will want to know.”
A shadow crossed Tony’s face. He picked a plastic cup off the top of the dresser and filled it from bottles that sat nearby; then lifted it and swigged.
After he swallowed, he said, “Tell your Mama? Y’all still at that stage where you’ve got to run everything by your mommy?”
His voice ended on an inquiring note, and he paused, looking at Desiree with a sardonic half smirk.
She hastened to say, “Not everything. I mean, I’m eighteen now. I do whatever I want.”
“That’s my girl.” He took her by the hand and led her to the other double bed, the one that faced the computer. Setting his cup on the bedside table, he placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her down onto the mattress.
“Now, when a place like, say, Veronica’s Secret, wants to hire models, they have to see what a girl can do. How she can carry off the product. You got to make the lingerie look hot, baby.”
Desiree scooted back onto the mattress, sitting with her legs thrust out in front of her. She still wore her Converse tennis shoes, the canvas soaked with rainwater.
He sat beside her. “Let’s get these off, what do you say?” And he slipped the shoes from her feet.
“You ticklish?” He rubbed his fingers down the bottom of one foot.
From Taylor’s vantage point on the next bed, she thought her friend looked nervous. Real nervous. Almost as keyed-up as Taylor had been. But Taylor was feeling better now. Almost a little sleepy. She sipped from her cup again. It tasted good.
Still, Taylor felt duty-bound to stick up for her friend. She said, “Des, if you’re feeling weird about it, you don’t have to do it.”
“Oh baby girl—you turning nervy on me, Lola? You just need a little magic. Here.” He picked up his cup and waved it in front of Desiree’s face.
Her eyes grew frantic as she stared at the cup, then up at Tony.
His voice crooned like he was singing a lullaby. “Now this is a magic potion. Like in an old fairy tale. You drink up, and it will take all your nerves and worries away.”
He put the cup to her lips. Obediently, Desiree drank; though she coughed violently between swallows.
Sliding her back against the headboard, Taylor lifted her own cup and followed suit.
Tony spoke to Desiree in a coaxing voice that sounded like warm honey. “Let me rub your shoulders a little. Get those kinks out. Dede, get over here with our makeup box. Let’s get some color in her cheeks.”
Desiree tried to hand the cup back to Tony. He held up a finger and spoke sternly. “Drink.”
Taylor watched them in a daze as Dede brushed her friend’s hair and painted her face. Tony stroked her arms and legs then placed her in position on the bed.
It looked like Desiree was starting to enjoy it. She got a fit of the giggles when he told her to be sexy, to open her legs to show them what she’s got.
At Tony’s urging, Desiree pulled off the pink teddy and tossed it aside. Taylor knew she should intervene. She should tell Desiree to stop, to cover herself up. She should get up and get Des’s clothes out of the bathroom and hand them to her, so they could leave.
But she was sleepy. So sleepy, she couldn’t keep her eyes open.
So sleepy, she couldn’t move.