Free The Prema Society by Cate Troyer Page B

of school and maybe even my loans was a powerful motivator. Plus, I considered, it might give me valuable experience or connections to get a job once school was done. It would be hard to pass up an opportunity like that.
    Which is how I found myself standing outside one of those old stone buildings in Manhattan debating on going up and knocking on the door or going home. I never considered myself working in this industry like Cassie, but the $600 I pocketed from sucking on molded latex was giving me a new outlook. Besides, as Cassie pointed out to me, I didn’t have to do anything I didn’t want to.
    I smoothed the charcoal gray skirt over my hips, wishing it had fit better. I had to borrow a suit for the interview, but hopefully the money they would offer could buy me a whole closet full of suits. I picked my way up the stairs, aware of the tottering feeling the 4 inch heels gave me. It matched the state of my nerves at this point, I thought grimly. And then I was at the top, hand raised to knock on those imposing wooden doors.
    The man who answered was the very stereotype of the snooty butler. Tall, balding, with a fringe of white hair, the man peered at me with bright blue eyes, already reducing me to my college girl subordinate status. I swallowed and drew a deep breath.
    “I have an interview with a Ms. DeForrest,” I said hesitantly.
    “Come in and have a seat.” He stepped back, and allowed me to enter the cool, dark interior of the building.
    My footsteps were muffled on the thick, red Persian carpet in the entryway. As the butler walked away, I looked around, my eyes wide, at the rich decorations - the dark wood paneled walls, the elegant grand staircase going up half a floor to double doors with gold knobs. On one side through an open door, I could see pale light filter through gauzy curtains into a white room lined with plants. The entire building seemed designed to make me feel out of place. I perched nervously on a Queen Anne chair, tucking my feet underneath and waited. The hushed quiet of the place was impressive considering the bustle of the city outside. After a few minutes, the man returned.
    “Ms. DeForrest will see you now,” he said in a somber, deep voice. I followed him through several hallways and into a room painted dark gray. A burgundy velvet curtain covered a window behind an antique wooden desk. The black-haired woman sitting behind it watched me enter with bird-like interest. She folded her long fingers under her chin and studied me as I situated myself across from her. We sat there for a moment in silence as she looked me over. She then picked up a pair of horn-rimmed glasses and put them on as she looked at some paperwork.
    “I have been managing the Prema Society for twenty years,” she said, making a note on the sheet in front of her. “It has been my job to find women to fill the unique needs of our clientele. That can range from companionship to more…in depth services. And we always compensate our ladies very well dependent on the contract they are fulfilling.”
    “How well?” My curiosity was piqued.
    “Well,” she looked at me again. “One young woman provided several months of companionship for a visiting dignitary from eastern Europe. She received a salary of $600,000.”
    My mouth dried up to the consistency of cotton. “And I could expect something like that?”
    “Oh, no. What we have in mind for you is more in depth. Your services will be required for at least a year, so we are looking in excess of $1.5 million dollars.We would also bear some of the other costs.”
    “What will I have to do?” My lips felt numb at the thought of $1.5 million dollars.
    “Well, before we get to that, we need to verify some information. You are a virgin, correct?”
    “Yes,” I flushed.
    “Your age?”
    “I’m 22,” I said softly.
    “And your cycles, are they regular?”
    “My period?” I could feel my face growing warmer. “Yes, they are.”
    “We’ll need to have