Julian takes the offered seat and clears his throat.
"I'm in need of a girlfriend."
I raise an eyebrow. "That's not really what we do here." I smooth out the back of my dress as I sit down next to him. "A brothel isn't the best place to find someone to date."
He chuckles nervously. "I don't need a real girlfriend. I need someone to pretend."
"Wouldn't it be easier to find yourself a real one?"
I don't understand why he can't. He's charming, handsome, and kind. Or at least, he was when I knew him. He shouldn't have any problems finding a woman to go places with him.
A blush rises to his cheeks. "I've been having problems with that," he admits. "Most of them only seem to want me for my money and title."
"Does your title even mean much these days?" The question is out of my mouth before I can think twice about it.
I resist the urge to cover my mouth and draw attention to the fact I've broken all kinds of decorum rules in the process. I know better. I've been trained better. I haven't become one of the best courtesans in the City Of Blood without learning how to hide my opinions. But somehow, being around someone from my childhood is reversing all of that.
Julian doesn't seem phased by my outburst, though. He simply shrugs. "Some people care about it, others don't. I think it depends on when and where they were born."
Ah, yes. The age-old problem of vampire society. We live longer than other supernaturals and that means we take more time to adapt, even when we shouldn't. It means a lot of old school thinkers mix with the new, creating an odd culture that no one really understands.
"I didn't realise women were still so shallow."
He chuckles. "Only the ones I want to avoid."
"And the money?" I prompt.
His family isn't just noble, they're incredibly wealthy nobles. And that's not something that's likely to have changed. I'm surprised the government hasn't brought in some kind of law that taxes vampires to reduce their wealth. Though I suppose that doesn't matter to those of us who live in the only walled city that's made entirely of vampires and humans. I'm not even sure when the rest of the supernaturals got out. They were here when the wall went up, the Mayor even tried to encourage them to come. No doubt she wanted them to act as a police force while us vampires are locked inside away from the sun. But it didn't last. Numbers dwindled to non-existence. I can't think of a single shifter, witch, or even reaper still inside the city walls.
"The ones who want the money are even worse," he says, breaking through my thoughts.
"So you came to a place where everything is about money?" I raise an eyebrow, but mostly because I'm amused.
"You're honest about it, though. There's a contract. The women here are after an amount of money that's revealed upfront, not as much as you can get."
"Not every brothel is as honest as this one," I warn him. If he's stayed away from the brothels, then he'll have no idea how to deal with the women that work there. I'd like to think of myself, and the other girls I know, as good people, but not everyone is like that.
"I'm sure they aren't," he agrees. "But it's certainly better than women who pretend to love you just to get their hands on the bank account."
I grimace. It must be horrible for him to have to deal with that.
"But that still doesn't explain why you're here and looking for a girlfriend for the night," I point out.
"You're right, I'm sorry." He reaches out as if to touch my hand, but then thinks better of it. He rests his hand against his knee and taps it with his fingers in a steady rhythm.
I wait for him to continue, knowing he will. He's come here with a purpose and isn't going to leave until he's achieved it.
"I've been invited to the Yuletide ball. If I don't take someone with me, then some of the women who want me for my money will start throwing themselves at me. Some of the married ones too." A shiver runs down his spine.
"I thought men were supposed to like it when women do that?"
"Ha, not me. Maybe some do, but I'd rather a woman likes me for me, not for something my family did once upon a time."
"You might be surprised, some of them are probably lovely women," I point out. Though having been to several parties with the vampire elite in attendance, I know that's not true for most. They don't seem to think about anything but their own pleasure, no matter what the cost.
"I don't want to take the risk to find out."
"And your master plan is to take someone who fakes being your girlfriend?"
"Yes."
"And your choice has fallen on me?" I raise an eyebrow, confused by how this is all going to work out.
"You've known me a long time." He shrugs as if that's his only consideration.
"Years ago."
His disappointment shows on his face. "I just thought you'd be willing to help."
My heart cracks in two for him, and before I know it, I'm reaching out and placing a hand over his. "I will help you. I guess I'm just worried. Don't they ban courtesans from the Yuletide ball?"
He frowns. "They do?"
I nod. "I can ask Lady Catherine about it to be certain, but I think they do. I know we're not scheduled to work that evening."
"Oh."
"But that could be how we get around it." Excitement builds inside me. I haven't been to the Yuletide ball since my family disowned me. Not that they'll be there. They never go. They simply stopped my invitations out of spite. "It's my night off. If I'm not working, then technically, I'm not a courtesan."
"I thought that would be something you always are," Julian responds.
"Are you always what you do for a living?"
"No, I suppose not."
"Then by that logic, I'm not always a courtesan. It's not the only thing worth knowing about me." At least, I don't think it is.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that..."
I flash him a reassuring smile. "It's okay, I'm not insulted. It's too easy to be offended in this line of work if you let yourself."
"That doesn't mean I'm not sorry," he replies. "And I need you to know that."
"Thank you, I appreciate it." I lean back in my seat. "What time are you picking me up?"
Relief rushes over his face. "Does that mean you'll do it?"
I chuckle. "Yes, I'll do it."
"I can draw up a contract..."
"We don't need one," I assure him. "It's only one night, there's no money changing hands, so let's just call it a favour between old friends."
"Thank you," he whispers.
"Any time."
Chapter 3
Despite the Yuletide ball being a step back into the world I left long ago and one where women of my profession are shunned. Kind of. Outwardly, they pretend they won't have anything to do with courtesans. But then they'll step away from their gentry only parties and go to the ones hosted by the Mayor, where new money mixes with old. Then they're more than happy to take their pleasure with us.