Chapter 16

So Gladys wandered in at about six. I had no idea what she was going to want, so I went upstairs with her and she pitched her idea to the girls, "Can I go out with one of you?"

Darla and Cheryl and Evelyn eyed one another; Ted was downstairs on the desk, hoping no one called for him. "Um, Gladys, Honey, if you go out with one of us, you have to BE one of us. Clients won't want someone around just watching. Things would get incredibly sticky -- really, really fast!"

"Well..." I could tell that set Gladys on her ear. "I want to know. I want to be able to help, to advise."

Cheryl pursed her lips. "You really have to learn by experience -- somebody else telling you only gets you so far. Believe me, I know! Darla and Luz have been a big help, but some things..."

Gladys turned her eyes on me at that point. "What will you think of me if...?"

I pursed my lips. "Are you asking me if I think you'll be permanently sullied?"

"Well, yes."

"I sleep with working girls every night," I noted.

"How serious are you about them?" Gladys shot back.

"Well, they seem to control that," I replied, ducking the subject. "I think they sort of keep their distance to keep the complications down. I'm male, after all, and they see plenty of that."

Cheryl nodded slowly. "In the first place, none of the three of us were picked by Don to be a girlfriend, so we aren't -- not really. You can argue the whole ownership thing with Luz and Darla if you like, but Don doesn't own me. On the other hand, he's sweet, and he's given me more than anyone else I know and I think a working girl needs to have one guy in her life who isn't a john so she remembers that they aren't all assholes and the opposite sex has more uses than providing spending money. I sleep with Don because he provides me with comfort and protection and because he's sweet -- and because I need a cuddle -- and I fuck him for all of the above and because he deserves it. But I'm not his girlfriend -- we're more fuck-buddies. Maybe he's my dad and it's incest -- I dunno. I'm fond of him, and I figure he's fond of me -- but we're not gonna get married." She paused a moment, then added, "And Don's right about the sex -- we fuck guys every day and it tends to cool the ardor, if you know what I mean. I don't know about Darla and Luz, but I have to kind of change up mentally to give Don what he deserves -- because he does NOT deserve to be treated like a john!"

I looked around and Darla and Luz were both nodding agreement. Darla asked Gladys, "Why would you want to go out? Because you want to be a working girl?"

"No," Gladys replied, "because if I'm going to be able to help, I need to understand -- and you don't get that from books, do you?"

Darla pursed her lips. "No, you don't. I can't speak for Donnie, but if I were him, I would approach what you're talking about differently than if you were just going out and putting it on the street to earn a living. In the first place, it would be limited, I bet."

"Absolutely," Gladys nodded.

"It's still fucking johns, though..." Darla eyed me.

"I like to think I'm bigger than that," I said, uncomfortable.

"I KNOW you are, Donnie -- But Gladys wants to be sure," Darla replied.

"I never told any of you that you couldn't be my girlfriend..." I muttered.

"And you wouldn't," Darla agreed, "but I'm not, and I'm not going to be. I'm a whore -- I don't DESERVE Donnie -- but I accept everything Donnie gives me gratefully and I try to give back what I can. And it's plenty, actually -- I'm gonna be real unhappy if when Donnie DOES get a girlfriend, she won't put up with me..." She eyed Gladys.

"Yeah -- what she said!" Luz piped up.

"I think she'll have to understand," Gladys replied. "I do." She turned to me, "So, if I go out..."

"It doesn't matter," I finished. "In fact, I understand your motivations, and applaud them."

"Okay, then," Gladys turned to the girls. "How can we do this?"

Darla and Evelyn were servicing poker parties, which simplified things, since bringing an extra girl along on a 'regular' call was kind of weird. The rig the girls were wearing due to pregnancy was pretty forgiving and Gladys was already wearing a black bra, so they managed to outfit her. After testing that, the girls climbed into their usual jogging suits. "How come you wear those?" Gladys asked as she watched Darla slide the jogging suit pants on over her one-piece crotchless hose and garter belt setup.

"We can't go out looking too fancy -- we're supposed to be cleaning ladies," Darla pointed out. "Sometimes we are, even. Donnie probably needs to hire a couple of REAL cleaning women to service regular customers, not that we've run into that much."

"How come your track suit says 'Bonnie'?" Gladys asked.

"You don't give out your real name freely," Darla replied. "It helps keep the vice squad away." She handed Gladys one of Cheryl's spare uniforms. "You're Gwen tonight."

"One of two," Cheryl cackled, wearing an identical uniform.

Darla was still briefing Gladys intensively as they hit the door; I gave each of them a peck and patted their asses and sent them off. Cheryl wanted more in the way of a kiss -- just because, I think -- but Evelyn waved it off and headed out leaving me with Ted's sparkling company. I left him on the phones and went up to watch TV with Carmen, Luz, and the girls -- and Raphael, of course... Raphael wasn't content to confine his demands to during commercials, either, and his lungs were getting healthier every day...

Cheryl had two scheduled calls and we took an unplanned one late; Ted kept me informed every time she checked in. We didn't expect as much from Evelyn and Darla and Gladys, because poker parties run until whenever. But Ted called me at twelve-thirty and said, "Gladys called -- you need to call her back," and passed on her cell number. Worried, I dialed it.

"I'm taking Darla to the ER," Gladys related. "She's not feeling well and I think it's early labor."

"Okay, I'll be right there," I replied. After quickly briefing Luz and Carmen, I hit the road.

Gladys was right; Darla was having contractions and dilating when I got there. "What happened?" I asked.

"Darla took most of the early action, but she hit me up about ten-thirty, saying she was a little nauseous and her back hurt," Gladys related. "I took over with the boys, who didn't complain -- but she kept getting worse. I was about to tell him we needed to go when the host pulled the plug on his own. Darla kept it low-key -- he didn't even know. He was losing, I think." We settled in to wait; Gladys cuddled up to me in the waiting room and we wandered in to see Darla regularly, but she didn't seem to want me hanging out, hopping from foot to foot, and bothering her.

It took Darla an additional twelve and a half hours to evict little Darrin from his comfy accommodations in her womb. In some ways, I didn't blame him -- I'm sure it was nice in there -- but it WAS tedious -- and that was just for me! Darla was visibly wasted by her efforts. Darrin didn't seem to have Raphael's lungs, but he had a serious fondness for mother's milk; he was latched onto Darla's left tit the whole time we were in the room with them after the birth. We left a car in the parking lot to be picked up later and took mine home; Gladys and I were both wasted. Ted and Evelyn and Luz and Cheryl went out to see the new arrival and Gladys and I went to bed -- together. It wasn't about sex -- just a cuddle; we were both wasted.

I fell out of bed after four hours, anyway; we had things to do. Gladys and I sat in the kitchen eating some eggs that Carmen whipped up for us and Gladys ventured, "So now half of your staff is on maternity leave. How does that hit the books?"

"Well," I admitted, "there will be an impact, but we won't go under. The slush fund has several thousand in it."

"Give me another week or so, Boss. I'll be ready," Luz announced from the doorway, where she held Raphael pressed to a nipple.

"No rush," I replied. "You need to BE ready, not just willing."

Luz grinned. "I'm starting to get the itch already."

I chuckled. "Manny will probably want to scratch it by Monday."

"I think it needs a good lick, Boss. Maybe I'll get Ted to look at it.," Luz grinned.

"That's your call."

"I still want to help," Glady insisted, putting the conversation back on track.

"You don't need to go out and take on clients," I replied.

"I want to buy in," Gladys announced, adding, "Big!"

I frowned. "How big?"

"Real big. How much are the condos again?"

"Milo managed to talk the developer into a hundred thousand apiece," I muttered.

"We need the space," Gladys announced.

"We'd need money," I retorted. "As you noted before, things are tight."

"I'll buy them. And I know a couple of girls we can bring in as employees," Gladys replied. "In fact, I know ANOTHER couple of girls who could handle real cleaning and negotiations -- and might fill in, periodically."

"Where are you going to get that kind of money?" I asked.

"I'll sell my place," she replied, shrugging. "I won't need it if I'm sleeping here."

"Gladys..."

"That's a no?" She cocked an eyebrow.

"That's 'It's early, yet.' You can't just hang your whole future on a date or two. Yeah, I like you -- a lot -- but I've been a bachelor forever and I don't know if I'm ever gonna be domestic."

"Don, you're a daddy already, for God's sake! Don't feed me that! At last count there were five women fighting over sleeping arrangements! When's the last time you cooked a meal for yourself?" Gladys challenged, cackling.

I grimaced. "Okay, you've got a point. But no one is fighting for Numero Uno -- and that might tear shit up."

Luz waved a finger at Carmen and Gladys. "It's between them, Boss -- and I think they've agreed to share."

I looked at Carmen, not knowing what to say. Gladys waved her over and took one of her hands. "What IS your position on Carmen?"

"She's... young..." I croaked. "I keep telling her that she can do better -- younger, anyway."

"But...?" Gladys pressed.

I sighed. "I know what's right -- but I can't bring myself to push her away. One day, she'll decide about that on her own -- but I'm too weak to make the call for her, and hold myself to it."

"I wish you'd quit going on and on about it," Carmen said softly. "The decision is made."

I sighed and eyed Gladys. "So..."

"We understand one another," Gladys replied. "If it doesn't work, I can always use a bedroom in one of the other condos. I KNOW it won't be all loud and nasty..."

I sat there and scratched my razor stubble. "From a personal standpoint, I'm good with it -- just like any other relationship, it'll work or it won't. From a business standpoint, I need to have a meeting of the partners."

Gladys nodded. "That makes sense. I need to talk to Milo."

We did the partners meeting in Darla's hospital room -- everybody showed, including Evelyn. As it turned out, Gladys was a shoo-in. Her trust fund made my IRA look sick, too, so she and Milo double-teamed the developer and then she signed over the condos to the company. Then she got the developer on the stick and he re-did the kitchen in units A and C and made more bathrooms and bedrooms. If we were going to do hospitality, it would happen in the new units on the first floor, and if we did in-call, it would be there, too -- the original two units were 'home' and where the kids roamed free. The additional storefront was for catering, Gladys informed me, and had the developer do up a decent commercial kitchen to support it. By the time Darla and Darrin were home and Luz was ready to go back out, Gladys had two Suzie Homemaker types tending the catering kitchen, two more full-time girls pulled in via the clinic and two vanilla 'house cleaning' girls.

Well, they were SUPPOSED to be vanilla, anyway. They'd been working a week when they came trooping into my office and one of them said, "Okay, when do we get to do the other thing?"

"What other thing?" I asked, playing dumb. We'd tried to isolate Celene and Lizbeth, the two big black girls Gladys brought in, from the outcall business -- they were regular hourly employees. Both of them were sizeable hunks of woman flesh, if you know what I mean -- Celene's jugs could probably feed quintuplets, in production; they were the size of small watermelons -- and they more or less matched the rest of her.

"You know what other thing, Don," Lizbeth chided me. "Hookin'."

I was going over the schedule with Ted and Luz; Gladys was out beating up contractors. "We didn't bring you on to hook," I replied. "Your job description says cleaning lady or person or whatever."

"So does hers, I bet," Celene replied, pointing at Cindy, another new acquisition, "but I bet she don't spend much time with a sponge and rubber gloves." Cindy, a skinny, wasted-looking bleached-blonde, looked up and smirked, but said nothing. She wouldn't, either -- Cindy had been through the wringer and knew when to keep her mouth shut. A runaway at sixteen, she'd caught it all -- streetwalking, bad pimps, crack addiction -- you name it. But she'd gotten herself straight and was trying to get her GED during the day and put her life together. Since her only skills were in 'the life,' she might have fallen back under the thrall of a pimp and had the whole thing ruined for her -- but Gladys pulled her in and she knew a good thing when she saw it for DAMNED sure and jumped on the bandwagon and didn't look back.

"Look here," I insisted, "IF we provided such a product line -- and I'm not saying we do and I never will, sitting in this office -- why would you want to do that?"

"I need the extra," Lizbeth replied. "My Alvin..."

"... Probably doesn't want his mama to be a hooker," I cut her off.

"We're serious!" Celene insisted stubbornly.

"I am, too!" I retorted. "Do you see hooking on that price list?" I waved at the sign on the wall with our standard cleaning rates on it.

"That don't mean shit!" Lizbeth retorted.

"I got this, Boss," Luz announced. "You should come, though. Come with me, girls." She swept her eyes over Cindy. "You, too." She led the three of them out. I turned to Ted and said, "Mind the store, Teddy." He sighed and nodded, and I got in at the tail of the parade.

We went back and up to the lounge, which had been the living room in one of Gladys' condos. Luz waved a finger at furniture and directed, "Sit!" Celene and Lizbeth settled onto a couch and I settled into a recliner and Cindy parked on the arm of a side chair. She was putting on weight, but still pretty spare. Luz launched into her tirade, "Business office is for cleaning business. We don't talk about other business there -- not so anybody hears. No talk about hooking in office!" She waved a finger at the pair of black women, not bothering with Cindy. "What do you know about hooking?" Luz queried.

"I know damned near everybody in the place does it!" Lizbeth carped.

"You signed..." Luz glanced at me.

"Nondisclosure agreement," I supplied.

"Yeah, that -- when you come to work here. What goes on here stays here -- and penalties were spelled out! You signed -- did you read?" Luz demanded.

"Yeah. Hey, I ain't talkin' outside..." Celene insisted.

"Office is 'outside' where hooking is concerned!" Luz ranted. "Boss runs legitimate cleaning business -- is for all our protection! Boss never takes a dime of money from OTHER business for cleaning business -- books are clean! Cops come in, customers come in, you talk about hooking there bad thing -- very bad! Understand?"

Lizbeth frowned. "Yeah, okay."

"You want talk about other business, you grab me or Darla or Boss or Gladys and bring here! Not out front!" Luz admonished.

"Okay, okay!" Celene waved her hands. "But we're here, right? Let's talk!"

Luz glared at her for a second, then took off, "Cleaning business normal business -- normal hours, normal pay, normal benefits, normal rules. No harassment, equal opportunity, blah, blah, blah. Worst case, customer want something extra, you call office, we send someone else out. All legal. Needs to STAY legal -- VERY IMPORTANT!" She waved a finger at the girls. "OTHER business NOT normal -- pay not normal, benefits not normal, rules not normal. No such thing as sexual harassment, no equal opportunity, rules what we say rules are -- and might change tomorrow! Understand?"

Lizbeth frowned. "I'm not sure."

"Let me," I interjected. "Girls, the cleaning business is sacrosanct -- because it is the source of all good things. Without the cleaning business, there would be no salaries and no benefits and no 401K and no profit sharing, among other things. Therefore, the cleaning business only takes in money it can account for from normal services -- and only dispenses funds the same way. Anything that you do that doesn't appear on that board on the wall in the office, you do, technically, as an independent contractor. The business isn't responsible. That way, if you get arrested for prostitution, when I show up to bail you out, it is as your employer, not as your pimp. I give you a good talking to at the police station and post a note in your personnel record that I put you on probation for doing things you weren't supposed to be doing on company time and everything is cool. The police and the IRS look at the books and every dime is accounted for." I sat back and waved at Luz, "Go on."

Luz took over. "So. You understand? Cleaning business -- other business." She separated them with gestures. "You stick to cleaning business, never have to worry. Other business, more problems. Still want to talk?"

Celene and Lizbeth locked gazes, then turned back to Luz. "Yes," Lizbeth answered for both of them.

Luz sighed. "Okay. Rule One -- Boss is BOSS! Boss tell you pull train, you go 'Woo! Woo!'" Luz mimed pulling the chain on a train whistle. "Boss, like cleaning business, is source of all good things -- so you make Boss happy! You fuck Boss, you suck Boss, you lick Boss' asshole -- whatever! Boss has hot and cold running pussy, so he may never ask -- so YOU ask HIM twice a week! Understand?" Both black girls looked at me and nodded, and I tried my best not to roll my eyes. Luz cranked her head around and said, "Cindy?"

"No problem." Cindy went back to whatever homework she had in her lap without even looking up.

"Rule Two -- Boss is NOT pimp! Boss help get you cleaning appointments, and maybe those appointments turn into fucks and maybe not. But Boss NOT beat you and NOT take all your money and NOT treat you like dirt and NOT get you hooked on drugs -- and Boss sees to it that you have health plan and protection and help and bail money if you go to jail. Does that sound like pimp?"

"No!" "Uh uh!" The girls shook their heads. They undoubtedly knew all about pimps, even if they'd never had to deal with one themselves.

"So." Luz folded her arms across her chest. "Boss not pimp. Boss is Boss -- period. Boss is business manager. Pimp might SAY he business manager -- but Boss IS business manager. Okay?"

"Okay." Again, Lizbeth was the voice of the pair.

"Okay. Now. Have you ever hooked? I bet not..." The girls -- women, actually, as they were both in their twenties somewhere -- shook their heads. "What make you think you can? Just because you know where a dick goes..." Luz shook her head. "Good hookers deliver good sex -- and it is WORK! You not lay on back and go 'Oh, Baby, fuck me!' and let john do all work -- you squeeze pussy and work it so he gets good feeling and gets off! You two..." Luz grimaced. "You not exactly prime stuff. Boss maybe not be ABLE to find you work in other business!"

Cindy piped up at that point, "Well, they're black -- Cheryl is, but she's more exotic, and sometimes guys want to do the Aunt Jemima thing. Some guys like a little cushion, too, so if they come at it right, it might work for them, occasionally. But Luz is right -- you're going to have to grow your own customer base that has those tastes, probably -- and it'll have down-sides."

Celene eyed her. "Like what?"

"Well, you're a niche market -- like Teddy," Cindy explained.

"Teddy?" The black women shared a look.

"Yeah. Teddy's a wimp husband -- a cuckold. Guys call for Evelyn and ask for Teddy, too, so they can fuck her in front of Teddy and she and they tell Teddy all about how they're better lovers and he's a cowardly little wimp -- and maybe they get him to eat creampie out of Evelyn's pussy, or even stick their dicks in Teddy, right?" She turned to me for confirmation.

"Yeah. It's happened a few times, anyway," I admitted.

Cindy turned back to Celene and Lizbeth. "That kind of thing is kinky and demands big money. You might not be able to get big money for your gig, but it will probably include them giving you shit because you're black, and maybe because you're fat -- and if I was to guess, butt-fucking you fairly often. The more abuse you can handle, the more money you'll make. At the very least, butt-fucking is in the premium tier of standard service, so you'll get over that way."

Celene and Lizbeth looked a little dazed. "Teddy goes out?"

I nodded. "Sometimes."

Cindy tossed something else out. "You'll probably do well with mama's boys -- being a mama they can fuck."

Celene frowned. "What kinda abuse are we talkin' here?"

Cindy glanced at Luz. "You'll probably run into white boys who will want to give you shit about being black sluts and talk about you while they dick you. They'll probably want to hear how their white dick is better than black dick -- that kind of thing. Some of them might want to do a black slave fantasy -- put a collar on you and beat you and stuff like that. That's probably big money." She pursed her lips. "You get some of that, anyway -- johns are playing and they want it their way. They might want to choke-fuck you or whatever to get off on the whole white master thing. Black guys have been accusing white guys of that shit for a while and some of them want to deserve it, you know?" she grinned. "You kind of expect some rough usage, anyway, hooking -- but you two might get more than what you might think is your fair share. On the other hand, you can probably take it better than me..." she waved at her still-gaunt body.

"Maybe you girls want to stick to just cleaning," I suggested quietly.

Celene looked like she might be thinking about it, but Lizbeth wasn't. "Nope. My Alvin..."

"Who is Alvin?" I asked.

"My boy. He's seven."

"What does he need so bad his momma has to earn it on her back?"

"School clothes."

"I'll give you an advance," I offered.

"I got to pay for his sitter. I can't take the hit."

"Bring him here. Carmen can watch him," I retorted. All she did was look stubborn.

"Let her try, Boss -- it will work or it won't," Luz advised. "She can always stop."

"All right." I shrugged. I'd tried to talk her out of it...

Luz's smile grew fangs. "Of course, she'll have to train... Show Boss how you give head!"

Lizbeth was still at it when Gladys walked in. "What's this?"

"I'm a training dummy," I grunted.

"Why?"

"Our working girls want to be 'working girls.' Luz says we can't send them out unprepared," I replied.

"Hmmm, this was unforeseen," Gladys mused.

"Yeah, no kidding." Lizbeth DID have a pretty hot mouth and nice, soft lips. I was learning more about blowjobs from Luz's period of instruction than I wanted to know, but it was going well, apparently.

"Why don't you call Manny or something?" Gladys suggested. She seemed grumpy, I noticed. "Since it's training, it'll be for free, and you know how Manny likes his bang for the buck..."

Luz caught on, too. "Yeah, good idea. I'll call him. Lizbeth, let Boss have his cock back. I think Gladys wants it for something."

"You all clear out," Gladys directed, "I want to talk to these two."

I was happy to oblige. "Good luck!"