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Bianca takes a deep breath. “You know how I always tell you I have gigs to waitress at parties?”
“Yeah?” Bianca is a waitress at a diner, but her job doesn’t pay well, so she’s always doing extra shifts or going for one of her gigs.
“Well…the thing is, I work for an escort agency, Passion Palace. They provide escort services for the Elite, and I’m one of the escorts,” she says in a low tone.
“What?” The word slips from my lips, my mouth widening in shock. “You’re joking, right?” I ask, chuckling in disbelief.
“No, I’m not. How else do you think I’ve been able to afford my Mama’s diabetic drugs and pay for my brother’s college tuition?”
I open my mouth, but words fail me. I wouldn't have believed it if someone else had told me Bianca was working as an escort. Even now that I hear her say it, I still can’t believe it. “You’re an escort?” I ask, still in disbelief.
“How about you pick up a megaphone and announce it to the whole world?” I sense a hint of anger in Bianca’s voice, and I immediately feel sorry.
“I’m sorry, I just find it hard to believe.”
“You promised not to judge,” she reminds me.
“I had no idea it was… was this.”
“Passion Palace pays well,” she says, her tone a little persuasive. “You earn an average of three thousand dollars every week, or even more. Depending on the services you offer.”
My mouth falls open at the mention of that amount. “You earn that much?” I ask, unable to hide my curiosity.
“And even more, girl,” she says with pride, leaning back in her seat.
“Wow! That’s a lot of money.” Compared to the meager salary I earn monthly as an office assistant, my salary pales in comparison.
“Now, if you join, you’ll be able to save money for Andrew’s transplant and add it to whatever financial aid you guys might get.”
I’m quiet as I contemplate what she said; I can’t believe I’m even thinking about it. “No.” I shake my head. “I can’t do it. It’s against my moral beliefs. My Mama would have a heart attack if she learned about it.”
“And you think she won’t have a heart attack if your brother isn’t able to get the transplant because of lack of funds?”
I become silent as I brood on her words. She does have a point. Should I join? I’ll make a lot of money and be able to afford Andrew’s surgery. But this stands against everything I believe in. And everything my Mama has taught me. My family are devout Catholic, and Mama would be totally disappointed in me if she found out.
“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Bianca says softly. “But think about what’s at stake. Andrew needs you.”
Tears well up, and I look away, trying to collect my thoughts. My heart aches with the weight of the decision. Joining Passion Palace would provide the funds we desperately need, but at what cost to my morals and my family’s trust?
“I don’t know if I can do this, Bianca,” I whisper, my voice choked with emotion.
Bianca reaches out and takes my hand, squeezing it gently. “Just think about it, okay? No one can make this decision for you. But whatever you decide, I’m here for you. We’ll find a way to get through this.”
I nod, the internal battle raging within me. The thought of losing Andrew is unbearable, but so is the thought of betraying my values and disappointing my Mama. The stakes have never been higher, and the future has never seemed more unclear.
***
Later that night, I’m lying in bed tossing from one side to the other, unable to sleep; Bianca’s words keep running through my mind. I think about Andrew’s smile and carefree spirit. I picture him healthy and happy. He deserves a chance to be happy again, a chance at life.
Sighing, I sit up on my bed. I reach for my phone and type Passion Palace into the Google search bar, but nothing related to what Bianca said comes up.
So, I decide to text her. —tell me more about this Passion Palace.—
She responds almost immediately how about you come to see for yourself? We have a waitressing service on Sunday evening. How about I talk to the boss and have him put you in?—
I contemplate her suggestion for a while before I finally respond. —all right, let’s do it.—
The moment I hit send, Bianca’s response comes in. —Yes! You are so going to have fun, you’ll see.—
