Chapter 6 ~ Past

Parkside Apartments: Six Years Earlier

No matter how many times Melinda did the math, she wasn't going to make ends meet. Thankful for her job at the St. James it still wasn't enough to cover her expenses and have something left over. She knew Charmaine had padded her check a few times after overhearing Melinda on the phone with a creditor. As grateful as she had been for the help, Melinda couldn't keep accepting the charity.


Crumpling the sheet of paper and tossing it on the pile that filled the waste basket she glanced over at Thalia who played happily with some old boxes Melinda had painted with funny faces. It wouldn't be long before the makeshift toys wouldn't do. Christmas was not that far off, only a couple of weeks, and Melinda didn't have a penny to spare.

The shrill ringing of the phone made her jump. Her stomach knotted as she stared at it. If it was another creditor...Melinda swallowed hard, they were just going to have to deal with what she could send, and picked up the phone. "Hello?" her voice sounded almost apologetic as she answered.

"Mellie! Merry Christmas sweet cheeks!" Damian's exuberance was almost too much for her. Damn him and his lack of responsibility. Did he ever have a bad day?

"What do you want Damian?" she hissed at him.

"Janet and I are heading to Aspen for the holidays and I think I left my favorite knit scarf at our old place. I'm assuming you kept it and I want to swing by and get it."

"You assumed..." she thought of that saying about people who assume. Aspen...Melinda's grip on the receiver tightened. If only it was wrapped around his balls...she could squeeze them until her nails broke the skin and he was on the floor writhing in pain, bleeding and begging her to release him. "I don't remember any scarf Damian. Are you sure you even had one or are did you just want to tell me you were going to Aspen and needed an excuse to call?"

Damian laughed that same sexy, deep chuckle that used to light her up when she heard it. Even now, it gave her a thrill. She shuddered, angry that he could still elicit a reaction from her. "Maybe I left that scarf somewhere else. It doesn't matter; Janet can buy me a dozen scarves if I want. Or maybe she can just wrap herself around my neck and keep me warm. You and the kid have plans for the holidays?"

She wanted to make something up, something wonderfully indecent, but instead she just sighed. "Nothing much...just work and then a quiet Christmas at home. Look Damian I have to go to work. Have a nice trip." Melinda didn't wait for a reply. She placed the handset back in the cradle and stared at the pathetic little tree on her kitchen counter. Maybe his plane would crash and she would never ever have to hear that voice of his again.

The St. James

The St. James was typically busy over the holidays. One of the girls hadn't shown up for work and Charmaine was scrambling to juggle schedules and rearrange appointments. Melinda kept people entertained in the lounge pouring drinks and making small talk. Looking up she saw Charmaine standing in the entry looking frazzled but holding it together as she gestured for Melinda to join her.

"Melinda, I am in a bind here. I have shuffled as many clients around as I can but I need help. I hate to ask but you are my last hope." Charmaine's eyes pleaded for understanding but Melinda balked. She couldn't do it, she simply couldn't. "Melinda, please, just one client, one of Lydia's regulars, a good customer. It's just a massage. We can throw something on you from Lyd's outfits and all you have to do is talk dirty to him. There's no sex, I'm not asking you to do that, just a massage. That's what he likes. I will give you 100% of his fee."

"How much is that?" Melinda wasn't even sure why she asked; was she really considering this? The thought made her insides churn. But the money...she could do a massage. She could talk dirty. She could do that much.


Melinda was hit with a warm draft as she entered the room but she still felt chilled to the bone. Her nerves threatening to get the best of her, she tried to remain calm. He sat on the table wrapped in a towel, an older man with a kind face that showed the years. He smiled at her and Melinda returned it tentatively and continued in until she heard the door close with finality. "You can do this, it's just a massage," she kept reminding herself to keep her courage up.

"Well aren't you a pretty one? Charmaine said I'd be pleased and she didn't lie. She's got a helluva stable here."

The man stretched out on the massage table and settled in. Melinda took a deep breath as she reached for a bottle of lotion on the shelf below and slowly began to massage the man. She could feel his shoulders relax under her ministrations and began to feel less uncomfortable. This wasn't so bad, she reasoned; it seemed to be going quite well until she heard his muffled sigh. "Talk to me, tell me what you want to do to me, Sugar." Melinda's stomach lurched. Drawing a shaky breath, she began to tell him what she knew he wanted to hear.

When Melinda was finished, the man eased off the table and stood grinning sheepishly at her. "I'm afraid I've got a hard on." Melinda glanced down quickly and sure enough the towel was tented where she would have expected. She stared at him confused, what did he expect after the things she said to him?

He must have noticed her confusion because he began to explain, "I have been having a bit of trouble down there. My pecker doesn't seem to want to react the way it should to a beautiful woman. I haven't managed to get this erect in years and keep it. Would you...help me out here?"

"I...I'm sorry, that wasn't part of the agreement," Melinda stammered. She backed away slightly as he approached.

"It wasn't, I understand that but...it would be such a waste to let a good erection go unaided by the lady that gave it to me. I'll pay you of course, our little secret that Charmaine doesn't need to know about. I'm not asking for permission to fuck you, just maybe a blow job? It won't take long and I will make it worth your while." He tossed a wad of bills, hundreds, down on the table.

Staring at the cash, Melinda was overcome with guilt. Guilt for not being a better provider, guilt that she would resort to selling herself in order to feed her child, guilt for not being able to turn around and walk away from more money than she had seen in a month.

Kneeling in front of him she loosened the towel and grasped him firmly. "Tell me your name."

He moaned as her warm breath caressed his erection. "It's Garrett, Garrett Winslow."


"Is everything all right, Melinda?" Charmaine was waiting for her after Garrett had left. "He said he wants you from now on, said it was the best massage he had in years and wouldn't take no for an answer. I didn't know what to tell him but I have never seen him leave here with such a spring in his step!"

Melinda could feel the roll of bills in her pocket pressing against her thigh, a reminder of what she had just done. She swallowed the guilt and responded, "I...guess I could manage once in awhile."

Charmaine smiled knowingly. "He was quite taken with you Melinda. Councilman Winslow has been very good to the St. James over the years. He is going to be mayor, you mark my words. If you play your cards right with him, he can be quite generous, a powerful ally."

The weight of everything she had been dealing with came down on her with a vengeance. She felt sick. She needed air. Excusing herself, Melinda rushed to the bathroom and vomited.




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NEXT CHAPTER: Passages 11