Free C'est la Vie (Raja Williams Series) by Jack Thompson Page B

courtesans kept to the third floor. Vinny met one named Yvette during her break. Yvette was arguing with Bruno near the back stairwell to the third floor. Vinny couldn’t hear what they were saying but the conversation ended with Bruno slapping the girl in the face. She came into the dressing room crying.
    When she sat in front of a mirror to fix her makeup, Vinny could see the red welt rising on her cheek. Bruno had hit her hard. When Yvette noticed Vinny watching, she said, “What are you looking at? Have you never seen a man hit a woman?”
    “Sure, but that doesn’t make it right,” said Vinny.
    Yvette tried to laugh but ended up wincing instead. “ C’est la vie, chère, c’est la vie .”
    “What is his problem, anyway?” asked Vinny.
    “He thinks I am holding out on the money I earned from a client.”
    “I thought that was your money?”
    “Don’t I wish. No, Bruno takes the lion’s share. And he always thinks the girls are cheating him.”
    “Pot—kettle—black,” said Vinny, referring to the old adage.
    “Huh?”
    Vinny thought about attempting a translation. “Never mind.” The idiom didn’t translate to French easily. Besides, Vinny remembered she was there to dig up information, not to start a revolt among the girls, despite her natural urge to rise to their defense. That would have to come later. Right now she wanted to explore the third floor.
    Her chat with Yvette revealed more about the club’s operation. Some of the customers were regulars who had specific courtesans that they came to see. The customer would pay for a room on the third floor and then request a certain girl. If available, the girl would bring them a key and would meet them upstairs at an agreed upon time. The rest was between the girl and the client.
    “Are you going upstairs now?” asked Vinny.
    Yvette nodded.
    “I’ll walk you up. I heard there are rooms for rent—just for sleeping . I’m not a courtesan — not that there’s anything wrong with that.” Vinny looked at Yvette, hoping she was not offended.
    Yvette laughed. “That’s all right. A courtesan’s life is certainly not for everyone. Yes, there are small rooms in the back. Come on, we better hurry. You don’t want to take too long a break. Bruno won’t like it.”
    The third floor was primarily the domain of the courtesans, of which there were seven, including Yvette. There were two sets of stairs leading to the third floor, one allowing for discreet access from the rear of the building without being seen going through the club. Although the French had little objection to extra-curricular sexual activity, there were still those who insisted on discretion. Vinny and Yvette passed several rooms where the sounds reaching the hallway made it clear that they were being used. Vinny noted that there was a man posted at the top of the rear stairs.
    “This is my room,” said Yvette, stopping in front of the door numbered six. She opened the deadbolt with a key. Inside there was a small anteroom followed by a large bedroom that featured soft indirect lights and a large round bed.
    “Do you stay here? I mean to sleep.”
    “Yes, although not all the girls do. The rooms aren’t used until evening. Michela and Francoise both like to get away from work when they can. They share a small flat just east of here. They still end up spending a lot of their time here. Those are their rooms.” Yvette walked out and pointed to two rooms across the hall. “Come on. I’ll show you the regular rooms. I warn you, they aren’t much.”
    At the end of the main hallway were two small wings on either side with doors on the outside wall. Yvette opened one. She was right. With a small daybed, dresser and one chair, each room amounted to little more than a glorified closet. The single tiny window high on the wall gave it the feel of a monk’s room in a monastery, or a jail cell. When Vinny backed out of the room, she bumped into a solid male body.
    It was Bruno. “You