Page 21 of The Upgrade

KIT

“Any questions about the project, Dr. Plier?”

“Please, it’s just Christopher.” Or Chris or Topher or even Kit, which I’ve already told Ashton Holyfield twelve times since he hired me to study his staff’s mental health at Crystal Bliss Retreat.

I guess when you’re the grumpy-as-fuck billionaire owner of a chain of luxury resorts, you call people whatever you feel like calling them.

Holyfield clears his throat. “I want to make absolutely certain employees within the Jilted Brides Honeymoon Club system are satisfied with their jobs, their pay, and their overall well-being.” His forehead furrows. “You understand it’s a delicate situation, given the services they provide.”

“I do.” And his concern for the staff is admirable, so I cut him some slack on the name thing. “I feel confident I’ll be able to extrapolate a solid set of data by the conclusion of the assignment.” That’s a whole lot of words to say what Ireallymean. “Serving alongside sex workers as a member of the team will allow me to not only conduct the research you’ve hired me for, but to give my first-hand impressions of the working conditions.”

Holyfield nods, appeased by my answer. “I’ll leave you to your training then.” He glances at Kora Neville, my manager here at Crystal Bliss. “Please inform me immediately if any employees express concerns with the study.”

“Yes, sir.” A dark shock of hair slips from Kora’s tight ponytail and she smooths it back. “You’re not requiring anonymity around this, correct? If anyone asks about Dr. Plier’s?—”

“Topher,” I correct. “In my role as a sex worker, that’s how I’ll be listed on the menu.”

“I’m sorry, you’re right.” Kora offers an apologetic nod. “Your study and your role here are not anonymous, but employee feedback will be, correct?”

“Correct.” That’s how I insisted we roll out this study. “They can know the nature of my research and why I’m here, but I’ll protect their right to privacy every step of the way.”

It’s also why I really need them to stop calling me Dr. Plier. I might not be anonymous, but I’d rather not beme. At least not for the next few weeks.

“Very well.” Holyfield turns for the door. “You know how to reach me if you need anything. I’ll expect daily reports.”

He exits before I can say that’s what I’d planned. This might be one of the most unusual assignments I’ve taken in my career, but I plan to handle it with the utmost care and transparency.

“Okay.” I turn back to Kora, who sits ramrod straight at a bank of computers. “Where were we?”

My manager tips her head to the laptop in front of her. “We’d just finished the first training module for new consorts at Crystal Bliss.”

That’s what I am. Aconsort.

It’s a fancy way of saying “sex worker” or the person tasked with satisfying the desires of resort guests. The Jilted Brides Honeymoon Club has its own bizarre language, and I can’t quite decide how I feel about it.

“Got it.” I get my head back in the game. “I’m impressed by the expansiveness of the menu.”

Kora lights up like I’ve complimented her personally. “While our primary goal here is to satisfy guests, we pride ourselves on selecting team members who truly enjoy the experience.” She must be concerned I’ll say something negative to Holyfield.

But everything I’ve observed so far points to one simple fact: Crystal Bliss Retreat takes good care of its staff. And guests, obviously. But my job here is making sureworkersare happy.

“May I ask if employees are?—”

“Consorts,” she corrects, and I nod.

“Consorts.” It feels cheesy to say it, but I get why they do this. It adds an exotic ring to the role. “Consorts are given the option to rescind consent at any time, correct? Say, for example, a consort agrees to a certain type of bondage or group sex act, then changes their mind or doesn’t feel like performing the service.”

“Enchantment,” she says, and I blink.

“Enchantment?”

“That’s what we call all our services at Crystal Bliss. Guests book anenchantment.” She’s perfectly straight-faced as she says it, so there’s no telling how Kora feels about the resort’s lingo.

“But to answer your question,” she continues. “You’re correct. Consorts are allowed to change their minds at any point. They can also turn down any enchantment that doesn’t feel right to them.”

I tap out a note on my tablet, then set it aside. I’m here to be trained as a consort. Most of the time in this office, I won’t wear my shrink hat. This is where assignments get doled out to sex workers.

Consorts, I mean.

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