Chapter 22
The man’s question silenced Georgia completely. She was painfully aware that she lacked any notable skill.
Before Georgia could respond, Yvette jumped in eagerly. “Mr. Wells, why don’t you have her sing? With a voice like hers, it
has to be entertaining.”
Georgia’s vocal cords were ravaged, leaving her voice hoarse and grating. Speaking was a rarity, and when she did, it was barely above a whisper.
“She sounds awful when she talks. Can she even sing?” the man asked, doubtful.
Yvette slid herself onto his lap, batting her lashes playfully. “You can find good voices anywhere, but hers is one of a kind. It’ll be a real show. Come on, ask her to sing. If it’s unbearable, we’ll just plug our ears.”
The man scoffed. “You really want to hear that noise?”
“That’s exactly why I want her to sing.” Yvette said, pressing her ample chest against his arm with a mischievous grin. “I’m curious how bad it could possibly be.”
“Mr. Wells, what do you say?”
He smiled, clearly enjoying Yvette’s attention. Whether Georgia agreed or not didn’t matter. “Fine. I’ll hear her out.”
He rubbed Yvette’s thigh as he spoke, then pulled a thick wad of cash from his briefcase. Holding it up, he said, “I’m reasonable. Ten thousand dollars here. You get five hundred per song. Take as many as you want.”
Yvette frowned. “Why so generous?”
He flashed a charming grin. “Don’t worry, baby, you’ll get your cut later.”
Feigning modesty, Yvette slid off his lap, handed the microphone to Georgia, and beamed, “I picked the songs for you.”
Without a word, Georgia took the microphone. The high–pitched selections confirmed her suspicion–Yvette wanted to
humiliate her.
If her voice weren’t damaged, Georgia could have sung beautifully. Now, each strained note only highlighted her frailty.
As her raw, rasping voice filled the room, the man winced, prompting Yvette to thoughtfully hand him earplugs. She watched Georgia with barely concealed triumph.
Georgia persisted, though no one paid her any attention. The man held Yvette close, eyes glued to a movie screen, while Yvette played games on her phone.
No one stopped Georgia as her voice cracked and nearly gave out. Her legs throbbed with exhaustion, her voice barely audible even through the microphone.
“Alright, that’s enough,” the man finally said, rising abruptly. He pulled out the earplugs and scowled at Georgia. “Take all the money on the table.”
Yvette rose too. “She hasn’t finished singing yet.”
“Baby, I’ve had enough. She’s lost her voice, and we’ve got more important things to do.”
Though displeased, Yvette didn’t argue with the guest. She lowered her gaze and forced a shy smile.
The man grinned, satisfied, and led Yvette out of the room.
As they passed Georgia, Yvette stopped and said with false kindness, “You’ve lost your voice. Now you won’t have to speak in that awful rasp for a while. You should thank me–I made you sing, and now your voice is better.”
Georgia said nothing. Once they left, she collapsed onto the floor with a heavy thud, kneading her aching knees and cramped muscles.
Gathering her strength, she stood shakily, stretched out a trembling hand, and grabbed the money from the table. Then, she quietly left.
<Chapter 22
“Charlotte, please deposit this into my account.”
Charlotte looked up, curious. “Where did you get this? I didn’t assign you any work today.”
“And what happened to your throat?” she asked, concern in her voice.
“It’s nothing. I didn’t sing much. Someone asked me to sing for a rich man. He paid me.”
Menu
Charlotte accepted the explanation without pushing further, taking the money and handing Georgia a cup of water. “Drink
this.”
Georgia gulped down the water. Charlotte’s eyes darkened perceptibly.
She must have sung a lot. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be this parched
I’m going to have dinner,” Georgia said, standing. The Vetro Club served meals every evening, and it was nearly time.
After eating, she waited until work hours ended and returned to the dormitory.
Laura was already back when Georgia arrived,
“Georgia, Laura called out sharply as Georgia entered.
Georgia nodded in response and passed through the living room to her bedroom.
“Is it true?” Laura’s voice rose.
Georgia paused, looking at her roommate with mild confusion.
“Is it true?” Laura repeated. “Everyone’s saying you’ll do anything for money… that you crawled on the floor and begged for mercy. Tell me it’s not true.”
Laura’s words struck like a hammer against Georgia’s chest.
She swayed but regained her balance, meeting Laura’s gaze with an indifferent look. “It is true.”
Laura’s eyes widened in shock. “So what they said is true!” she exclaimed. “I thought I knew you, Georgia. You’d never sell your dignity for money.
“How could you do this to yourself?” Laura shouted, anger sharpening her voice. “You lied to me!”
Georgia stayed rooted at the bedroom door, listening with a small, knowing smile.
“Why are you still smiling?” Laura demanded, bewildered. “What’s wrong with you? Are you really willing to do anything for money?”
“Is money that important to you?” Laura’s voice echoed in the room.
