“A night? Do you mean those cattle auctions?”
Sienna turned sharply to me. “Huh?”
His eyes held mine for a moment. We both knew what he meant.
Sienna looked from him to me. “What am I missing here? Is there some kind of party involving livestock? And if so, where can I get an invitation?”
I chuckled. “You’ll be too old.” I watched Marcus closely to see if he would elaborate or hide beneath that veneer of sophistication adopted by many in our wealthy clique. It would start with a little humour, light chit-chat glossing over their darker sides, as though being of a certain pedigree made it right to take advantage of anyone for the right price.
“Hey, I’m not even thirty yet,” she protested.
“Do you want me to tell Sienna what goes on at Ma Chérie?” I inclined my head.
He opened out his palms. “I was invited to a game of twenty-one, followed by a burlesque show.”
“It’s a brothel, from what I hear.”
My brazen response made Sienna’s eyebrows raise. “Wow. Really?”
Marcus returned a crooked smile. “It’s legal and licenced, I believe. Although strictly members only, Ma Chérie is nothing but a meeting place.”
“Describe it as you like. Our family’s in the throes of having it shut down.”
That was false, given my mother’s refusal to discuss that sleaze hole.
He stroked his neck. “From what I hear, it’s tasteful. The girls are more than happy to partake, and many lives are improved as a result.”
“Mm…” I rolled my eyes.
“Now if you’ll excuse me.” He left us to finish our drinks.
Sienna and I headed to a bar, and as she linked her arm to mine, she asked, “What the hell was that about? I wanted to get his number, and you kind of insulted him.”
“Sweetie, I wasn’t kidding when I said you’re probably too old for him. Ma Chérie is a virgin auction venue.”
Her mouth opened. “Hence that cattle call reference. I thought that virgin-selling only happened via agencies and the net.”
“Evidently, these little clubs have sprouted around the blue-blood scene, so that girls in skimpy gear can parade themselves and have men bidding for them.”
“Ew. That’s desperate, isn’t it?”
“It is. However, if the girl consents and is happy with the arrangement, who are we, privileged little things, to judge? I just don’t want it near Merivale or at the back of Elysium.”
She nodded pensively. “So true. We’re lucky. We just threw away our virginity to some useless boy that we liked the look of.”
“Am I sensing regret?” I asked as we slid into a bar and grabbed a table by the window.
“No. But if only I knew what I know now. That kind of thing.”
“Yeah. Tell me about it. On TikTok, David Bowie said that the fascinating thing about growing old was that you become the person you always should have been.”
“Ew. With fucking wrinkles.” She grimaced.
I laughed. “But really, I have so many regret fucks.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
“My biggest regret is still hanging around like a fucking maggot on rotting meat.”