Love Is An Experiment

I walked down the Miami streets, the air warm and humid, the sounds of the city enveloping me. My heels clicked on the pavement, and I felt my heart beating faster. I try to stay focused, to remember why I'm here. But it is difficult not to be drawn in by the city's energy and the seemingly endless possibilities it offers. I took another deep breath and forced myself to concentrate.

I see various people walking by. There are tourists dressed in Hawaiian shirts, families pushing strollers, and teenagers laughing and texting. People are begging for money and selling goods on the street, a man in a suit is strolling by and talking on his phone. I see a homeless person, filthy and dishevelled, pushing a shopping cart loaded with belongings. ugh.

The city of Miami...

I opened the doors to the Sultry Siren where I work.

As I walk in, the bouncer nods and I head straight for the dressing room. The room is a mess, with dancers frantically changing and applying makeup. I changed into my stage outfit, a slinky black bodysuit with knee-high boots and a faux fur coat. I double-checked my makeup to ensure that my eyeliner was sharp and my lipstick was the proper shade of crimson and took a deep breath to calm my nerves before going on stage.

"Hey Mama, you are pretty late, you don't wanna get on the bad side of Siren," Layla said. Layla is one of the girls I work with, and also my best friend- a stunning girl with rich melanin skin, luscious brown hair, and deep dark brown eyes that sparkle with a hint of mischief, thanks to a tiny dimple that adds to her charm.

My father passed away when I was in high school. He had been sick for a long time, and his death was expected. But it was still devastating, and I felt lost. My mother, whom I hate and resent, decided to leave town and start a new life. I was left to take care of my younger sister, Sarah. I dropped out of school to get a job and provide for us.

No matter how hard I worked, I couldn't make ends meet. But then Layla introduced me to this opportunity, and it's been a game-changer. I'm so grateful to her because this job has literally saved me and Sarah's life. We started as neighbours, then became friends through some tough times, and now... well, I don't know where I'd be without her.

"I had to check something before coming. "I need to be on stage right now before you know who comes," I said.

"Ok, mama."

We air-kissed.

As I walked out of the dressing room, I could feel my heart racing in my chest. But as soon as I stepped on stage, something changed. My nerves vanish as a wave of serenity sweeps over me. I started moving to the music, my body flowing with the beat. The audience is mesmerized, their eyes fixed on me. I felt powerful and in control of the room. I took a deep breath and gave myself over to the dance, letting my worries and doubts fall away. I am in the moment, and nothing else matters.

I move around the stage, my movements fluid and sensual. I could feel the eyes of the crowd on me, and I revel in the attention.

I began to move in time with the music, letting my body follow the rhythm. This is what I live for - the attention, the admiration, the feeling of being worshipped. I know that I'm desired, and I drink it in like a drug. As I move around the stage, I see the faces of the men in the crowd, their eyes following my every move. I'm a siren, luring them in with my sensual movements and the promise of something more. I'm untouchable, yet so close.

It's past midnight, I look at myself in the mirror, still wearing my stage makeup. But I felt like I was looking at a different person. I'm not Samantha, the woman who lives in a small apartment and works as a dancer to make ends meet. I'm Samantha, the woman who captivates an audience with her moves. I felt a mix of pride and anxiety as I took off my makeup and changed into my regular clothes.

Layla entered the dressing room, a smile on her face. "Wow, Sam, you killed it tonight!" she says, looking at the wad of cash in my hand.

"That's the most I've ever seen you make in one night!" I smile back at her, grateful for her praise. "Thanks, Layla," I said.

"It was a good night, Samantha" She tapped my shoulder and I smiled.

I counted the bills one more time, feeling a sense of satisfaction, This is all for rent. I sighed.

I entered my tiny apartment, trying to be as quiet as possible. Sarah is asleep on the couch, her long dark hair spilling over the arm of the couch. I covered her with a blanket, careful not to wake her. I noticed that her schoolbooks were spread out on the table, and I saw a stack of overdue bills next to them. I put the cash I've earned tonight on the table, along with a note telling Sarah to use it for whatever she needs. I will make another money for rent. I kissed her gently on the forehead, whispering "Good night, Sarah," before heading to my bedroom.

My phone rang, jerking me out of sleep. I reached for it and squinted at the screen. It is ten a.m., and I am not a morning person. "Hello?" I mumbled, not checking to see who was calling.

"It is Siren."

I sat up straight, wiping my eyes with my hand. Why is Siren calling me?

"Good morning."

I greeted.

"Meet me at the address I sent to you in 3 hours."

She hung up immediately.

My phone vibrated. The address... For her to contact me directly, seems important.

Siren is the headliner of the strip club, the most popular dancer, who's the boss of the other dancers. When there's a problem at the club, the other dancers go to her for help. Siren is referred to by that nickname; her legal name is unknown.

Siren's mansion is opulent, with expensive furnishings and exquisite art. She is wealthy and accustomed to a life of luxury. As I stepped inside, I felt out of place, as if I didn't belong there. Siren led me to the living room, where she motioned for me to sit. I sat, trying to look at ease, but I felt tense and uncomfortable. She sat across from me, her expression unreadable. My heart is pounding in my chest. What will she say?

"I guess this is our first time meeting alone, Samantha."

"Yes."

"I will go straight to the point, you should know I don't like beating around the bush."

You are.

"One of our customers' eyes has been on you for a while, you piqued his interest and he wants to make a deal with you, Mind my manners, would like to drink anything? Water? Alcohol? Wine? Juice?"

"I'm good, what deal?"

It was strange to meet her in her home, now a deal? Rumours circulate that she deals with old rich men and links them up with girls. They use them and of course, pay them REAL MONEY. If that's what she called me for, hell no! I needed money doesn't mean I'm shameless.

"Don't be in a rush Samantha, you will lose this offer. He wants to marry you, like a contract marriage, there will be rules and you will have to quit coming to Sultry Siren. I'm sure this is not your first time hearing such."

Well no.

"Why?..."

"Twenty-six, I believe you are a grown woman. Save those questions for later, he doesn't like to wait, if you hesitate, this opportunity will go to another girl and you might regret it."

She rested her back on the couch.

Like I knew she wanted to link me up. I mean, you just told me something so absurd right now but marriage? From the rumours I heard, I've never heard about contract marriage with the girls.

"I don't..." I trailed off, unsure how to decline her offer.

"Think it through, Sam. This might never come your way again. Also, he's not old, I'm aware of the rumours circulating - I can assure you he's not old, he's between 30/31. You have 5 minutes to decide."

"Thirty years old?" I asked, surprised.

She nodded. "If you accept this offer, you'll walk out that door with $700."

My eyes widened in disbelief. "Without having to strip?" It would take me three nights of hard work to earn that much, and now I could just walk out the door with it without lifting a finger?

Siren smiled. "That's right. And there are many more bonuses to come if you accept. All you need to do is be a fake bride."

I thought for a moment, weighing my options. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

"Yes, I accept."

Siren sent me the money before I left, and she also handed me a bag containing a red dress and matching heels. I sighed as I checked my phone time. I was supposed to meet him, the man willing to pay a fortune for a fake wife, this afternoon, in about twenty minutes.

The dress was knee-length with spaghetti straps and a deep, vibrant red that resembled a full-blooming rose. It hugged my curves in just the right places, and the fabric felt silky against my skin. I could not deny that it was stunning. But the colour seemed to call attention to me in a way that made me uncomfortable. I couldn't help but feel like I was being offered up like a prize. I pulled my black hair into a ponytail and decided not to apply makeup as I felt it was too much. I hoped the man who wanted to marry me saw me as more than a pretty face. But I was not sure.

The taxi pulled up in front of the address sent to me which is a cabin, and I took a deep breath before stepping out. I could feel the warmth of the Florida sun on my skin, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore in the distance. I took a moment to look around, taking in the lush greenery and the rustic charm of the cabin. It was a far cry from my usual surroundings.

I stepped through the door of the cabin, and I was immediately hit by the warm, earthy smell of cedar and pine. The cabin was rustic and cosy, with a large fireplace in the centre of the room.

Two young ladies stood before me, smiling warmly. They looked alike, with the same hairstyles and outfits. But one had a small mole beside her right eye, making her a little different.

"Welcome, we've been expecting you." They said.

"Would you like anything?"

I hesitated, not sure what to say. I felt out of my element, like a fish out of water. I wasn't used to this kind of treatment, and it was making me uncomfortable.

"I'm fine, thank you," I finally said and they showed me to a chair by the fireplace.

The one with a mole left, while the other stood there, staring into the air. I think she's here to make sure I don't ruin anything or maybe she's just there in case I needed something.

I closed my eyes, trying to take a few deep breaths. The stillness of the cabin was a welcome respite from the hustle and bustle of the outside world. But I knew that I couldn't get too comfortable.

I was struck by the height and powerful presence of a man who walked into the room.

He's about 6'3", with a trim, athletic build. He was wearing a dark suit, and his hair was short and dark brown, coiffed. Piercing azure blue eyes, same as my father's. He seemed confident and sure of himself, almost to the point of arrogance. There's a faint scent of cedar and sandalwood that lingers in the air around him, and his hands are large, strong and filled with veins.

Damn!

I have seen guys at the sultry siren, and he will be one of the sexiest, because damn!

As I watched him walk into the room, I couldn't help but notice his clothes. They were clearly high-end, with the perfect cut and fit. His shirt was made of the finest cotton, and his suit looked like it had been tailored specifically for him. The fabric was smooth and silky, and the stitching was perfect. There was no doubt that he had spent a lot of money on his clothes, and they fit him like a glove. It was clear that he took pride in his appearance, and I couldn't help but feel a bit impressed, did I already say damn? Damn!!

The men at Sultry Siren were dressed in all different types of clothes, and it was clear that some of them were more expensive than others. I could tell which ones were high-end by the way they fit, the quality of the fabric, and the details like the stitching and the labels. The guys who were wearing fake clothes were easy to spot - their clothes were ill-fitting, the fabric was cheap, and the labels were often misspelt or just plain wrong.

I noticed that the man was not alone. He was accompanied by a woman who I assumed was his secretary. She was dressed in formal clothes, and she carried herself with a professional demeanour.

He sat across from me while the lady stood, his eyes staring into mine. I shifted uncomfortably.

"Parents?" He inquired, Voice deep as the ocean, captivating as a siren's song. I opened my mouth to respond, but his secretary did so instead.

"Mother is alive, but Father is dead."

"State?"

"Affair and out of town."

"Your mother won't be a problem, right?" He leaned in, his hands clasped together.

I was knee-deep in his gaze.

"No...no, she won't."

Stuttering? For the love of God, Sam, compose yourself. My mom won't be a problem, it's been eight years since she left us and she has never once called so I don't think she would be a problem.

His phone rang and he left. Is that all? Just like that. What will happen next?

His secretary stayed behind.

"You will meet with your lawyer tomorrow, the contract will be explained to you so that there are no problems in the future. Thank you for your time, Ms. Jones, I need to be on my way. The time and location of your appointment with your lawyer will be sent to you, and a ride is waiting for you outside."

She adjusted her glasses and left. I stepped outside right after she left. My God, it was a Rolls-Royce and a man in a suit outside.

"Good day, Ms. Jones; I will be taking you home," he said, smiling brightly.

He opened the backseat door. It felt so good to be treated this way.

"Welcome, Ms. Jones. I'm Elijah, I will be your driver from now on." He said as I settled into the backseat. His voice was soothing and calm, like a soft breeze on a summer day.

"My driver?"

"Yes, you have an appointment tomorrow; I will be at your place at the scheduled time."

Oh wow, I get my driver? I closed my eyes, enjoying the calm before the storm.

I never want to go back to stripping.

My sister was devastated by our father's death, and I felt powerless to help her, she was more emotionally attached to his death than I was. It felt like there was an invisible barrier between us, and I could not figure out how to get through it. My sister was always the sensitive one, whereas I was more resilient and independent. I knew that our different reactions to the loss were partly responsible for the distance between us, but I didn't know how to fix it. I have been attempting to mend our relationship, but it does not seem to be working.

Elijah was already waiting in front of my house.

"Good morning, Ms. Jones!" It was refreshing that he was always so happy. I said with a smile.

"Good morning, Elijah. It is wonderful to see you again." During the drive to see my lawyer, we discussed the weather and other mundane topics.

When we arrived at the Chinese restaurant, I noticed that he had pulled up to the front door.

"We've arrived, Ms. Jones," Elijah announced. "Thank you," I replied. "I will be right there," he said, pointing to the park across, before driving away.

How do I find my lawyer? Oh, great, he is gone. I guess I will have to look for my lawyer myself.

I walked towards the Chinese restaurant and noticed a tall, imposing man in a sleek black suit standing outside with a stern expression, his eyes fixed on me with expectancy. "Please follow me, Ms. Jones," he said, his deep voice firm and commanding as he gestured toward the entrance.

Oh, great! This guy I have never seen before knows my name. I followed him through the restaurant. The walls were covered in beautiful paintings of Chinese landscapes, and the floor was a rich, dark mahogany. The air smelled of sweet and savoury spices, with a hint of fresh ginger. Come to think of it, I have never tried Chinese food, but maybe I will today. In the back of the restaurant, the man opened the door to the private dining room.

A black woman wearing a navy pantsuit with a sleek black bob was already seated. She looked in my direction as I walked in.

"Samantha Jones?" She grinned.

"Yes, I apologize for keeping you waiting," I grinned back.

She stood up to shake my hand, and I returned the gesture.

"No, that is fine. I am just glad I was not late. I would not want to upset Mr Williams by delaying his bride."

I am not sure if I should smile or not.

She laughed as we sat.

"I'm Charlotte Jackson, and I will be your attorney. Let us get started." She pulled out her laptop.

"Mr. Williams hired my firm as your outside counsel to assist you in contract negotiations. Have you seen the contract yet?"

"No."

"No? It should have been sent to you."

She quickly typed on her laptop and turned it towards my face. I peered at the document, twenty-five pages? Nah.

"There is no way I will understand this."

I politely said.

"That is why I am here."

She smiled and turned the laptop back to face her.

"Are you aware that the duration of this marriage is one year and six months, after which you will divorce?"

What? Why is he getting married if he plans to divorce after a year and six months? Something seemed off about this.

"No," I replied.

"Now you are aware."

"Can I ask a question?"

"Yes, you are free, Ms Jones."

"Why is he getting married if he plans to divorce after a year and six months? I want to make sure I know what I am getting into."

"Mr Williams comes from an extremely wealthy family and is a complex person that no one can understand, so I am not sure why, but I can assure you that he is not a bad person and that nothing will happen to you. It will be in the contract, and if anything does happen to you, he will face some legal action, so you do not have to worry. I am with you."

How the hell is she so reassuring?

"Ok," I nodded.

"Let us proceed."

She typed on her laptop and turned it to me again.

"It says in Section thirteen-C that if you decide to leave the marriage before the duration is complete, break any contract terms, or have an affair, there is a whole list--- you would pay it all back."

"Pay it all back?" I asked.

"Yes, reading the contract will help you understand better," she said. "And you will receive a six-figure monthly payment."

"Every month?" I repeated, my eyes wide with doubt.

She responded with a nod. "Why is he buying a bride, and why me? He must be awful." Come to think of it, he was wealthy and attractive. Why buy a bride only to divorce after a year and six months? He must be a horrible person.

She shook her head. "No, no, no, I assure you. He is not." Her words were convincing, but I could not shake my doubts.

"What if he wants to end the marriage before the term is up?"

"He will pay a certain amount. it is included, so do not worry."

"It's just...it's just insane and looks too good to be true."

She leaned in.

"I understand, Ms. Jones. Insane is an understatement. I am your attorney, and I know I should not take Mr William's side, but believe me, I have worked with him before, and nothing bad will happen."

"You have helped him deal with situations like this?" I inquired.

She smiled. "No, other issues. You are the first."

I'm the first, okay. That doesn't exactly fill me with confidence.

She chuckled. "I understand your concerns, Ms. Jones. But trust me, Mr. Williams is a man of his word. He will uphold his end of the agreement. And if he doesn't," she paused, "I'll be here to ensure your interests are protected."

I took a deep breath, still trying to wrap my head around the surreal situation. "Okay... I suppose I have no choice but to trust you both."

She smiled reassuringly. "That's all I ask. Now, shall we proceed?"

"Wait, What about my sister?"

"Your sister? It does not say much here," she said, scanning through the document. "It is stated here that Mr. Williams will provide financial assistance to any of your dependents."

"I am fine with the terms, but I have a condition," I said.

"Go ahead."

"My sister must live with me."

"Hmm... It does not say here that you can live with her."

"What? I can't live with her? I can not leave my sister alone."

"She is a young adult, but I will consult with his lawyer. Is that the only condition you have?"

I nodded. "Okay, I will send you a copy of the reviewed contract, and then you sign and send it."

I nodded, and she got up.

"Have a nice day, Ms Jones."

"Thank you."

I left the restaurant with a heavy heart, not even trying any Chinese dishes. I was torn between staying with my sister and leaving my current situation. I was worried about leaving her, but I also knew I could not keep living this way. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

"I was ordered to bring you and your sister to the cabin," Elijah informed me as I approached the car.

"Why?" I inquired.

Elijah paused before saying, "I am not authorized to answer that question; I apologize."

Oh Perfect, how am I going to convince Sarah?

-----------

"You didn't text me you were home."

I shut the door behind me. Sarah kept her eyes fixed on her phone.

"Pack your things, we are going somewhere." I walked past her.

"Not interested."

I stopped and turned to face her.

"What? I am not asking you to, I am telling you to pack your bags, we are going somewhere."

"Where?" She put down her phone.

"It is a long story, just pack a few things."

"Did you finally seduce an old rich man? The guy outside with a nice car, new clothes, and new heels, which look expensive, what a wonderful and brilliant sister I have."

She slowly clapped and approached me.

"What?"

"I am not stupid, and I am not interested in whatever dirty you got yourself into. I will not follow you there..."

I slapped her 'cause I couldn't take what she was saying anymore.

"I'm your older sister! learn to talk to me."

"Yes, yes. Whatever. I am not interested in whatever you got yourself into."

She tidied her hair.

"If only you knew. I do not have time right now, just pack your things or you know what? don't pack anything."

"I'm sure I did not stutter. I said I'm not going with you, just leave like Dad and Mom did," She said, a tear falling from her eyes.

I was so pissed, and seeing her cry breaks my heart.

"I don't want to ever be apart from you, I promise you it's a better life and he is not old. You will understand why I chose this option. Are you proud of your sister stripping?"

I cupped her face in my hands as tears streamed down her cheeks.

"No, I..."

"With this, I will stop it, and you will have a better life."

She hugged me.

"Why must we go through these things? Why did Dad die?"

"Life isn't fair."

I tightened the hug.

"The man outside is waiting, let's go," I said.

She pulled herself out of the hug.

"Okay. Let me get a few important things."

She came out minutes later and we left.