Buying the Virgin

Haswell passes me another coffee. “Charlotte, I’m sorry that you have had such an uncomfortable morning. My only concern in…. interrogating you… for so long, was that we are discussing the character of a man that I am about to sign up as a director of my company. Once I was satisfied that your relationship with James is truly consensual, I ceased to be concerned about that aspect of the matter.”

I shift uneasily, nodding, but staring at the floor.

He sits back, sipping his coffee, before placing the cup and saucer carefully down on the table. “Let me reassure you. Based on what I now know, your ‘confession’ will have no repercussions for either yourself or James here, for our working relationship.”

I take a deep breath. “Thank you.” My voice is small.

“I can see you are still uncomfortable. Perhaps as to the nature of your relationship with James.… your Master?”

My eyes flash up to meet his, but he is smiling.

“Perhaps it would make you feel easier to know that I have a similar relationship with my wife?”

I blink. “Really?”

“Really. As I say, arrangements between beautiful women and powerful men are not that uncommon. And, although I barely know you, it is clear to me already, that you face your problems and you deal with them. I understand how hard you must have found it, to come to me today. And very few women would have had the nerve to take your um, chosen route, to raising your college funds. Regardless of what you might fear, I think well of you Charlotte.”

Then he waves us both out. “I have some phone calls to make.”

*****

Francis buzzes me. “Charlotte, could you come to the office, please. Mr Haswell wants to see you.”

I arrive to find Haswell, my Master and Ned Jansen seated around a table. Jansen looks smug. My Master’s expression is masked, Haswell’s bland.

“And here’s our gutter rat,” smirks Jansen.

“Better gutter rat than sewer rat,” I snap back.

“Charlotte, sit down,” says Haswell, indicating a seat next to my Master.

but as I squeeze by Jansen, his hand slides up

my wrist is seized by my

“Charlotte, sit.”

resisting,

is not a request. Sit,”

submit to my Master, seating myself,

“What

people unfit to be in their

Conners and

“Yes.”

“By what reason?”

seen the brochure and the film.

a plain, unmarked brown envelope. The only reason I know who

but his face

how you came to be in possession of said brochure and video content? It is not

doesn’t speak, clearly now realising that I, and my Master, are

However….” Haswell, leans back, flipping open a file, “…. however, I would like to query you about one Jasmine Hardacre, who also, um…. attended, this auction. Approximately ten days after the date of the auction, she was

stare at Haswell, my stomach churning. He stares back at me, impassively, then

God. He bid

might have happened, had it not been my Master who won the bidding, hits me. Seated next to me, he watches me out of the corner of his

tunes back to what is being said. Haswell is

Mr Jansen, you will find that the police are taking a great interest in

to anything. She signed a contract. Just like

contracts come under civil law. Assault and grievous bodily harm come under criminal law…” His phone

I was saying Mr Jansen, you will find that the police are in fact very interested in you. As we speak, they are searching your premises

is led out in handcuffs. My

My stomach heaves and, managing to grab a waste bin at the last moment, I throw up into it, choking and