“More details,” I said, looking at him meaningfully. “I know you know more.”
Jared shot another lazy grin my way.
“The Club is short for The Billionaires Club,” he drawled. “It’s a place where rich men go to relax, have a drink, meet some women and unwind,” he said. “Billionaires have needs just like anyone else.”
I goggled for a moment before shutting my mouth with a snap.
“So you’re a billionaire?” I asked slowly. “A real billionaire?”
Jared nodded cheerfully.
“Not just one billion, but a couple times over,” he stated. “All of us are.”
But that made me wake up.
“No way every guy there was a billionaire,” I said skeptically. “The dude I met before you said he sold cars at his uncle’s dealership. I don’t care how many cars he sells, there’s no way that guy’s worth ten figures.”
Jared nodded in agreement.
“Maybe I should be clearer,” he stated. “The Billionaires Club is based in Vegas, but we have off-shoots all over the world. Off-shoots probably isn’t the right word, more like pop-up shops. We open here and there to test different markets, to see what the talent pool’s like in different parts of the world.”
I scrunched my nose.
“You mean, to get sales?” I asked, confused. “But what are you selling?”
And here, Jared paused for a moment.
“It’s not what we’re selling,” he said smoothly, “But what we’re looking for. We’re looking for girls honey. Girls like you.”
I shook my head, confused again.
“There are girls like me everywhere,” I said, a little dazed. This conversation was so strange, opening up vistas that I’d never dreamed of, world that never existed before. Yet he was saying that I was unique? That made no sense.
“There’s nothing special about me,” I added firmly. “I’m a dime a dozen.”
A gleam shone in Mr. White’s eyes.
“That’s where you’re wrong, baby,” he said. “There aren’t girls like you everywhere at all. We search all over the continental United States, even in Europe and Australia, and let me tell you, girls like you are hard to find. It’s like discovering a diamond in a mine. You shovel away a shit ton of dirt and rocks before finding that gem.”
I paused. This was confusing but if I wanted more information, I had to go with it. So I raised my hands and nodded.
“Okay, let’s say I am that ‘diamond,’” I acknowledged slowly. “Just for argument’s sake. But what do you want with the girls? Why are you looking for them?”
Mr. White nodded then, a smile playing about his lips.
“You’re smart, aren’t you, baby girl?” he chuckled deep in his chest. “We’re looking for females because we sell them,” he said clearly, meeting my eyes straight on. “They’re sold to club members, with their full agreement of course.”
My spine snapped then and I stared at him disbelieving.
“I’m sorry?” I asked dumbly. “You sell girls?”
Mr. White nodded, acknowledging the bizarreness of his words, the utter ludicrousness.
“The Club holds an auction every now and then. An auction where the most delicious, succulent females are sold to the highest bidder, a select group of billionaires. In return for money, my brothers get a week with their purchase, to enjoy, party, do whatever they want, all in the privacy and comfort of the compound.”
My mouth literally dropped open then.
“You’re saying that girls go up for auction. Like at Christie’s or Sotheby’s, like a piece of art. With bidders and buyers, people raising paddles and all that?” I stuttered.
Mr. White nodded, shrugging his shoulders.
“It’s not quite like that, but that’s the essence, yes. The girls are sold to the highest bidder, and spend a week with a buyer before receiving their money.”
I gasped, outraged.
“What the?” I sputtered. “What girls are doing this? It’s crazy! It can’t be legal.”
Mr. White merely shrugged again.
“Naw, it’s all legal honey. We’re billionaires, we make sure that it’s all legit, there are fortunes to be lost if we’re not careful. So yeah,” he continued. “In certain counties of Nevada, this is all legal and that’s why we’re based out in the Silver State. Plus, you’d be surprised at the number of girls who want to be auctioned, who want to show off their bodies, and share a hot week with a rich guy. After all, it’s a shit ton of cash for very little work. Intense yes, but only a week, and if you do it a couple times, you’re set for life.”
My chin dropped then.
“How much do they make?” I whispered, mouth dry. “How much do the girls sell for?”
The big man shrugged.
“It depends. An auction’s an auction, but the floor price is generally fifty thousand, that’s the minimum. I’ve seen girls go up for as much as two million.”
I sat back then, all the air going out of my lungs. Two million dollars for a week of work? That was crazy, blowing every pre-conceived notion out of my mind. Everything that I’d previously thought true was suddenly cast into doubt, my values, my judgments, the way I’d been raised. But Mr. White couldn’t be right, there had to be a catch somewhere.