All of the girls at the club have different crystals that symbolize what they're into or what they have to offer. A list of all of these was mentioned in the contract.
Rose quartz - virgin
Orange calcite - soft BDSM
Red carnelian - all levels of BDSM
Green aventurine - voyeur
Yellow citrine - multiple partners
Black obsidian - dubious consent
A couple more kinks were included, but these are the most common ones. Some girls own multiple pendants thatthey switch out throughout the week. Even the waitresses are required to wear them because it adds to their sex appeal.
"This is made of rose quartz, right?" I ask, enveloping my hand over the pendant. "I was told that it stands for love. But over here, it stands for something else."
"It stands for innocence," Mrs. Hendricks says.
"I don't understand why we're still having this conversation," I say. "You told me that you wouldn't push me to?—"
"Because this client is a war veteran who detests physical touch."
My heart starts pounding in my ribcage.
A flush works its way up my body. The rose quartz pendant feels too cold against my heated flesh.
"You know who I'm talking about, don't you?" she asks.
"Mr. Sinclair is here?" I ask.
He never talked about it himself, but I heard stories that he was a high-ranking soldier once. I heard that he's never been the same since he returned.
"I'm not allowed to give out names, but you can see a photograph before deciding whether you want to spend the night with them." She opens her iPad to show me a photograph of Mr. Sinclair.
Seeing his photograph has a visceral effect on me. It feels like he's in the room with me, watching me with those piercing dark eyes.
"Is it enough to make you reconsider?" she asks.
I don't even know what to think. My mind reels with too many thoughts, and I don't know which one to focus on.
"What if I were to decline?" I say.
"Then I'll have to find another girl for him," she says.
Fire licks a nasty trail over my heart. I don't like the idea of him even looking at another woman.
"I'll do it." The words escape my lips before I can stop them.
"You're certain about this?" Mrs. Hendricks asks, raising her eyebrows.
I only know one thing for certain—for whatever reason, I detest the idea of him with anyone else. This possessiveness has sneaked up on me out of nowhere.
I think I have a major crush on my boss.
"Emma?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.
"I'll do it," I repeat. "I'm certain."