Free Nadine, Nadine vignette 1 by Gabriella Webster Page A

decision to sell sex had been a last ditch effort to keep her real apartment. The
one on the edge of North City. The one she went home to after working each night. The miniscule roach-infested, one-bedroom place in a dicey neighborhood,
sandwiched between the really bad parts of St. Louis and the I’m-doing-a-damn-good-job-at-being-bad parts of town just south of it.
    She rolled her head side to side, and then thumped it against the glass.
    If it hadn’t been for the new administration at her urgent care facility, she’d still have a job. But, no! They had needed to set an example.
Needed to put their employees in their places. The new managers had been flush with power and had enacted several new policies. One of these new rules
regarded patient records. The new paperwork was time consuming, repetitive, and irritating, but everyone had agreed; it was necessary. Then one day, Nadine
had forgotten to file a form. Just one form. And she hadn’t been the only one. All three of the “offending” employees had been let go.
Blacklisted. Never to work as nurses again. Nadine didn’t know what to do. She’d never been anything else.
    Nadine groaned. In one unilateral decision by management, she had gone from gainfully employed to banned. She’d broken the rules,
yes—accidentally—but it wasn’t fair to punish her so severely. It wasn’t as if she killed a patient. It was paperwork, for God’s sake.
Paperwork that never had been needed before! So she had left nursing and tried her hand at a few retail jobs, but they didn’t pay the rent. After
receiving a final warning and facing eviction, she’d turned to the oldest profession.
    Prostitution… Mom would be so proud, she thought sarcastically. Good thing Mom wasn’t around to see her precious Nadine’s fall from grace. Rest in peace, Mom.
    It wasn’t fair.
    “Life’s not fair, little girl. Suck it up.” Nadine pulled away from the mirror. After brushing her teeth, she began reapplying her
makeup. She had an appointment with another regular in two hours, but she wouldn’t be able to pay rent if she didn’t go out there and find some
new business. Thank God for the agreement with the landlord of this shitty efficiency she used to turn her tricks. He let her rent it for next to nothing
and a free poke once a month. Without it, she’d have to bring the clients back to her real apartment, and that was a recipe for disaster. She’d
turn those tricks in the alleyway before she’d let her johns know where she lived. As it was, they often turned up there uninvited.
    Nadine stretched her lips wide to apply her lipstick, then blotted them. She checked the application. Good enough. Not like the johns give a fuck anyway. She squared her shoulders and squinted at her reflection. Was that a cum stain on her shirt? She
rolled her eyes. The. Johns. Don’t. Care! “Dear God, make me a bird so I can fly far, far away,” she chanted, quoting one of her
all-time favorite movies. She’d gladly be a bird if it meant leaving all this behind.
    “God—as you know him—cannot hear you,” a man said.
    Her eyes flew to the mirror. Who was in her apartment? She cursed her stupidity. She hadn’t locked the door after the prior trick left.
    Nadine whipped around to face the newcomer. He had to be the most gorgeous man to ever grace her crappy efficiency. Her gaze traveled from his nicely
shined shoes, up his gray tailored pants, to his pressed white business shirt. He towered over her, which was saying a lot. He had to be at least a full
foot taller than her measly height of five-nine. And, boy, was he built. Not in the hi-I’m-a-bodybuilder-and-look-gross way, but in the
hi-I-like-to-do-sports-lots-of-sports way. His square jaw was covered in day-old stubble, and he had the palest blue eyes she’d ever seen.
    Spectacular.
    A lock of his black curly hair fell into his left eye. He swept it back with one hand and grinned at her.
    Holy shit! That smile would melt any woman’s