Jack struggled to concentrate on the subject before him. He closed his eyes and prayed for any sort of a miracle to get it over and done with. The inspiration to draw just wouldn't come to him at all. Maria lay naked on a black rug in the centre of her boudoir, her black hair spread out around her with a small lily in it. Jack had to admit that visually she was stunning, but also conniving. Sighing, Jack picked up his charcoal once again and waited for inspiration to come to him. He drew small strokes at first and glanced at her body, ready to transfer the image onto paper. Maria sensed his awkwardness, but they had made a deal and she would make sure he stuck to it. Images of Rose ran through Jack's mind, the way they had kissed and the passion between them. She was the one he wanted forever and always. He was sure of that, and he had to tell her how he felt. He reminded himself that the reason he was doing this was because of Rose, to find out who had been looking for her. He had to protect her in any way he could, and if it was Cal who was looking for her, then he would make sure they got away from Paris as soon as possible.
“How is it looking, Jack?” Maria asked. Jack had been staring into the distance for the last minute or so and she wondered what was going through his mind.
“Almost ready,” he said, almost inaudibly, and she smiled. She loved seeing how Jack envisioned her on paper. He always made her appear so beautiful. She was unashamed of her nude body and she used it in any way possible. She knew she drove men crazy just by looking at her, and the men who were lucky enough to get picked for her to do business with…well…she knew how to drive them crazy.
“Done,” he spoke a few moments later.
Maria stood, not covering her naked body, and walked over to Jack. He immediately stood and moved out of her way, not intending to look at anywhere other than her face. Maria's boudoir was small and almost all black in color. A chandelier hung over a double bed and two wardrobes full of dresses and wigs were on either side of the door. The drawing was spectacular, and Maria smiled at Jack.
“You did me proud, Jack.” She winked, walking towards him. He began to back away. “Don't be shy, Jack.” He stood with his arms folded over his chest, trying to not look at her naked body.
“I'm not shy. Just…please cover yourself,” he told her gently. She found a silk robe, which she slipped on, but it still left nothing to the imagination.
“Thank you so much, Jack. It’s lovely. Would you date it?”
Finding the charcoal he had used, he signed JD, May 2, 1911. “Right. Done.”
He turned, but Maria placed a finger on his lips. She touched his face gently, taking in his boyish features. He was just nineteen, and his boyish charm shone through. She wanted him so much, to show him the ways of the world, to let him touch her body. She felt as though she could fall in love with him, something she never allowed herself to do. For a few seconds, they did nothing but look at each other. Maria felt her stomach churn, something she had never experienced before. She leaned forward and put her lips on Jack. She moaned with pleasure, closing her eyes and feeling him kiss her back, something she hadn't expected.
Jack closed his eyes and felt Maria kiss him. He moved his hands to her waist—and images of Rose flew into his mind. Alarm bells rang loudly in his mind—what was he doing? He pushed her away from him, both panting for breath.
“No, Maria. I cannot do this.” He held out his hand to her, wiping his lips as if he was poisoned.
“But why not? We just kissed. You sketched me naked.” She felt like her heart was going to break.
“Maria…” Jack thought of what to say to make her see that nothing was ever going to happen between them. “Maria, I think you are an amazing girl…woman. You're beautiful and a good friend, but that is all I see you as.”
Sitting down at her vanity, Maria felt defeated. She couldn't make him want her. “It’s Rose you love, isn't it?” she asked him, already knowing the answer to her question. A small nod of his head confirmed what she already knew.
“Yes. I don't know what I feel, but it’s something I've never felt before.” Jack smiled to himself and thought of Rose. “I'm sorry, but that's the truth.”
“Well, I respect your honesty and your feelings. I just wished you returned them for me.” Maria bowed her head slightly, feeling exposed to Jack, to the world. Never in her life had she admitted how she felt for another human being. She was nothing but a whore in most people’s eyes.
“You will find someone, Maria. You are so much better than all of this.” He indicated the surroundings. “You don't need to sell your body.”
“It's all I have ever known, Jack.” She raised her head, tears in her dark eyes. She had been a prostitute since she was sixteen years old.
Jack sat himself on her bed and put his head in his hands. His head felt messed up, How had everything in his life changed so drastically in just a few months?
“Maria, please tell me who came by looking for Rose. I don't want her to get in any kind of trouble. I just want her to be safe. I couldn't live with myself if she wasn't.”
Hearing Jack's words hit home for Maria just how much he cared about Rose. This day had begun with her attempting to lure Jack into her bed, away from Rose, but it had had the opposite effect. She had to tell him. It was part of their deal—she would tell him if he sketched her in the nude, and he had.
“Caledon Hockley. He seems to think Rose may have become a whore to support herself since running away from her fiancé and finishing school in February.”
Jack squinted, confused. “Fiancé? She turned him down. He asked her to marry him, but she told him she was too young.”
Rose wasn't engaged to this Caledon Hockley, was she? She wouldn't lie to him. His head pounded. This day was too much to take. He had to find Rose to find out the truth and to tell her how he felt about her. If Cal was looking for her, he knew they would have to find a way to escape Paris quickly. He placed his hands on his forehead before running his fingers through his sandy blond hair and standing.
“Maybe they are engaged. He was all—fancy. I wouldn't mind being engaged to him. Handsome fellow, tall, dark, and obviously rich.” Maria smiled to herself. Why on earth Rose had run away from this Caledon Hockley was beyond her—he was everything a girl could want.
“They aren't engaged. He hit her when she told him she felt she was too young. I saw the bruise on her face. He's lying.” Jack felt his fists clench and anger build up inside him. He remembered how upset Rose was when she had come to him after Cal had hit her. He was the one who had sat up most of the night bathing the cuts on her face.
Maria lit a cigarette. She rubbed her lips together. She could still taste Jack on her. She watched Jack pace up and down the length of her room, wondering why he was so obsessed with this girl. It was her life. If she was engaged to this Cal, then it didn’t have anything to do with Jack. “Jack, just leave her to it. All men are a little rough sometimes.”
Jack stopped in his tracks, staring at Maria in disbelief. “No. Not all men hit women. You may think so because this is your job—but I wouldn't ever do that, not to Rose or any girl. I have to go find her…” Jack opened the door and slammed it behind him. Rose had left the house this morning before he did and he expected her to have returned by now.
*****
Darkness fell over Paris, and Rose ran through the streets, finding her way. She picked up her skirts as she ran, tears flowing down her cheeks. Her red curls billowed as she ran. Nothing ran through her mind at all.
Cal's words that afternoon had hit her like a ton of bricks—she had to marry him, no matter what, and it would only be a matter of time before her found her again. She had to get out of Paris, and she needed money fast. She had tried her hand at several jobs since quitting the chicken factory, but most fired her because of her lack of skills—she was useless to anyone.
The one gift she did have was the last thing she wanted to use, but she knew she had to, and it was her last option. Coming to a clearing, she found what she was looking for. She stopped immediately, her body stiffening.
A pink sign read Madame Satine's. From the outside, the building appeared welcoming, but she knew that on the inside a lot of messed-up girls worked. They sold their bodies for sex and many ended up either committing suicide or being murdered by a client. Her heart beat wildly, but she knew it was something she would have to do. She had been told countless times that she had the body of a goddess. She just didn't know how to use it, and her pathetic attempt at showing Jack she was sexy by getting a job at the bar as a dancer was horrendous.
Walking steadily to the entrance, her heels clacking on the pavement, she tried the door, and to her astonishment, it opened. A sign beside the door read Clients Must Knock, but Rose walked in nevertheless. She wrung her hands as she walked into the interior. A large room filled with Victorian-style furniture welcomed her, and the smell of cheap Parisian perfume filled her nose, the type they sold on the market for less than a franc.
“Hello?” she called, expecting to see someone. She heard the faint clacking of shoes and followed the direction she heard it from. She could not believe she was actually inside a brothel. If her mother knew, she would easily disown her, or perhaps even die of a heart attack. Running away was one thing, but becoming a whore was another. She entered another room, where several girls sat smoking and playing cards. They literally stared at her as if she was some sort of villain. The smell of perfume became stronger and she wafted the smell away slightly in an attempt to not choke.
“Mary Angela, you're wanted,” a familiar voice called, and Maria walked out from a room wearing just a robe, her black hair down her back and her lips ruby red. Rose turned to see her. Maria's eyes were on the group of girls playing cards, whose eyes were still firmly on Rose. Maria followed their gaze and almost died when she saw who was standing before her. A wry smile came to her face and she pointed to a girl who Rose assumed was Mary Angela. “Mary—now!” she ordered. The girl stood and ran off, her heels clacking. Maria closed her robe more, tightening the belt around it. “Rose DeWitt Bukater? What can I do for you?”
“I-I don't…” Rose couldn't think of what to say. Here was the woman who she literally hated, standing before her.
“If you're looking for Jack, you just missed him,” Maria stated casually.
Rose's eyes widened. What was Jack doing here? She was sure that she was lying. She would, to get her own way in a situation.
“Jack…he was here?” Rose asked. Maria smiled slightly, avoiding eye contact with Rose for a split second, knowing that if she looked at her face, she would burst out laughing.
“Yes. Of course he was here.” Maria began to slowly walk away from Rose towards the parlor.
“Why would he come here?” Rose followed her.
“Well, if you must know, he came to do me a little…hmm…what can I call it—a favor.” Maria walked to the liquor cabinet next to the window and poured herself a glass of wine, not offering Rose one. “He did a drawing for me. I was nude, of course.”
Rose felt as though the earth had disappeared from beneath her. No way would Jack do that. Would he? Was she lying? “I don't believe you!” Rose blurted instantly. She refused to believe it. She thought Jack wanted her, not Maria.
“Oh, please. Do not call me a liar. If you care to see for yourself, then you can. Follow me, red.” Maria cocked her head to one side, playing with her black mane as she took her glass of wine into her boudoir.
Rose followed like an innocent little girl. Once inside the room, she examined the interior, taking in her surroundings. On the bed lay a drawing of Maria naked, with Jack's initials. It was dated today. Rose brought her hand to her face, shaking slightly. It was true. Maria hadn't made it up.
“Do you smoke, Rose?” Maria asked, pulling a rolled up cigarette from a pink case inside her vanity drawer. Rose said nothing, so she didn't repeat the question. Rose was obviously absentminded. “So, do you love Jack?” she asked, rather rudely breaking Rose's concentration.
Rose turned her head and her eyes met Maria's. “I don't know what I feel for him, but I thought he felt something for me.” Rose sat on the bed, and Maria couldn't help but feel a little sorry for Rose. She was only what? Sixteen?
“I wouldn't say so, dear. Jack and I were kissing just half an hour ago. If he had feelings for you, I doubt he would have kissed me.”