“Hello?” She froze at the spot when she heard the voice accompanying the knock on the door. Was it…it couldn’t be…surely not? She shivered as she quietly sneaked up to the door and peeked through the peephole. It was. It couldn’t be. But it was. Since when did Harper go see prostitutes? More importantly, what little twist of fate made him go to this very drift, to this very brothel, to this very prostitute? She took a few steps back, breathing heavily. She contemplated calling out to him, telling him she was sick and he had to go somewhere else. But what if he recognised her voice? He would do, wouldn’t he? Oh, who was she kidding? Of course he would.
She did the one thing that seemed sensible at the time. She hid. Running into the bathroom and locking the door behind her, she quickly gazed in the mirror, sighing in disappointment and frustration. There was no way she could make herself unrecognisable. Even with the dramatic sweep of hair and the excessive make-up he would only need to take one glance at her to know. She heard him knock and call out again.
“Damn it,” she thought angrily, “why is Harper suddenly going to prostitutes?” She found herself strangely angry with him, as the whole time there she’d spent looking down at the people who went to see her. She’d seen them as stupid, shallow idiots who couldn’t get action any other way, and she didn’t see Harper like that. Sure, she was always joking about his lack of a love life, but she’d never have thought he’d sink this far. “Then again,” she thought cynically, “I never thought I’d sink this far either.” The knocks on the door stopped and she heard footsteps getting further and further away. Breathing a sigh of relief, she sat down on the floor, still not going out of the bathroom. Just to be safe.
****
Harper went down the stairs, utterly confused. Had he got the wrong room number? There hadn’t been anyone in that room as far as he was concerned, but he was certain the man in the reception had said number 22.
“Excuse me,” he said to the man who was now leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed. Opening them with a flinch, he looked surprised to see Harper back so soon.
“Is there a problem?”
“Well…I think I might have got the number wrong. Was it 22?” Mr Culligan frowned.
“Yes…”
“There’s, uh, there’s no one there.” Harper was beginning to regret this idea. Maybe he should never have gone here after all. The man stood up rapidly.
“She must be there,” he muttered, “let me come and unlock the door for you.” Harper blushed slightly.
“If there’s, uh, something wrong with her, then maybe I could just go see someone else…I’m not bothered, honestly!” Mr Culligan shook his head distractedly.
“No, no,” he mumbled, more to himself than to Harper, “you see, when you run a place like this, you can’t let your employees get away with things. I can’t send you to someone else because this one’s being insubordinate.” Harper had a slight feeling of nausea as he, sloping slightly, followed the larger man up the stairs.
****
Beka’s breathing became more and more ragged. She doubted Mr Culligan would just let her off with this. Unless, of course, Harper suddenly gained a clue and realised going to a prostitute would be a bad idea. She tensed up and her eyes widened when she heard footsteps coming back. This time, she was sure he’d brought someone with her. She clenched her eyes shut and curled up tighter. If only Mr Culligan would come in on his own she could explain to him why she couldn’t let Harper see her. He’d understand she was sure, after all, he knew Andromeda was looking for her. But she did doubt he’d give her the chance to explain anything. The door opened, and two pairs of footsteps confirmed her fears. A firm fist banged on the door, causing it to shake slightly.
“Rebekah! You are coming out of there this instant!” She heard him add quieter, “She’s locked herself in the bathroom. I don’t know why she’s doing this, and I am very sorry.” She heard Harper’s voice after that.
“Look, I don’t know, maybe we should just forget about it. I don’t really like the thought of…you know…with someone who’s so unwilling.” She could almost hear Mr Culligan rolling his eyes.
“I’ll refund you,” he said as he pulled at the door, “every single throne, but she is not getting away with this.” He pulled at it for another minute or so. “Could you get me a nanowelder, I’m going to break this lock.” Beka whimpered silently, knowing there was no way out of this. She rushed up and stood next to the door, hanging her hair in front of her face, trying to cover up her lightly dressed body with her arms.
****
Harper was starting to feel worse and worse about this and he had already decided he wasn’t going to sleep with this woman, whoever she was. It was one thing to sleep with a prostitute who pretended to enjoy it while being bored, but this was something different. This girl was hiding in the bathroom so she wouldn’t have to sleep with him, how could he possibly…? He’d just stand there for a bit, get his money back and leave. He couldn’t help feeling sorry for the poor girl in the bathroom though. What did this big man put her through? Obviously she didn’t want to be here, that much was obvious. He felt sick as he thought about it. He’d thought the employees were there of their own free will, which made it easier to buy their services, but if they were being forced to be there…just thinking about it made him sick. Mr Culligan had now picked the lock and the door opened to reveal a tall redhead whom he was sure he recognised from somewhere. However, her head was hanging with her hair covering her face so he wasn’t sure. Mr Culligan walked in and yanked her arm, pulling her out of the room. Her head jerked up, throwing her hair back behind her shoulders.
No.
No way.
No way in hell.
Harper decided the universe really, really had a sick sense of humour.
