Free Sample
Preview from chapter one
She looked him up and down—the suit, the sweat, the way his eyes refused to leave her feet—and smiled a thin, knowing smile. "For you, special price. Five thousand baht. One hour. Two girls. You do what they say."
He nodded. She called something over her shoulder in rapid Thai, and two women emerged from behind a beaded curtain.
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The Girls
The first was named Noi. She was small-boned, maybe twenty-five, with sharp features and black hair cut in a severe bob. She wore a red tube dress and silver heels so high her calves stood in permanent contraction. Her feet were narrow, the tendons like wires under the skin. She did not smile.
The second was Lek. Older, maybe thirty-five, with a broader frame and heavy breasts barely contained by a green lace bra. She wore no shoes at all. Her feet were wide, the nails unpainted, the skin calloused and cracked at the heels. She had the flat, dead eyes of someone who had seen too much. She looked at Bernard the way a diner looks at a piece of meat that has been sitting under the heat lamp too long.
They led him to a back room. The floor was concrete painted a dull grey, the walls stained with moisture and time. A single bulb hung from a frayed wire, casting shadows that made the space feel like a holding cell. In the corner, a drain. A bucket. A pile of towels that might have been white once.
Noi pointed to the floor.
"Kneel," she said.
Bernard hesitated for less than a heartbeat. Then he lowered himself to his knees, the concrete hard and cool through his trousers. He could feel the grit against his shins. The smell of the room was sour—sweat, bleach, something metallic he didn't want to name.
Lek laughed. It was not a kind sound.
"Farang rich man," she said, stepping closer. Her bare foot landed on the floor beside his knee. He could see the dirt pressed into the lines of her sole, the grayish film of dead skin at the heel. She smelled of coconut oil and smoke and the raw, salty scent of a body that had been walking all day.
"Look," she said, pointing at her foot. "You want this?"
Bernard nodded, his throat tight.
"Say it."
"I want it."
"Say what you want."
"I want to kiss your feet," he whispered.