On the night my own father sold me to Wesley Foster, he stared at my face for a long time.   Only later did I learn that I looked a lot like the first love he had always wanted but never had.   I heard that his first love was a well-known lawyer in Astoria City, while I was nothing but a kept woman—pushed onto him by my own family.   Wesley asked me, "What do you want?"   Clutching the hem of my dress, I said quietly, "An employment contract."   He laughed so hard that even the ash fell from his cigarette.   "You're already a kept woman, and you still want a fixed salary?"   I nodded seriously and counted on my fingers as I said, "During the time I'm being kept, it would be best to write down the exact services involved. Every transfer should be clearly stated as a voluntary gift. That way, when we break up, it'll be easier to settle the accounts."   Wesley pinched my chin, as if he were looking at a disobedient stray cat.   "You're good at pretending. Fine, I'll play along."   The next day, he tossed me a supplementary card and told me to buy something decent.   I immediately spent twenty-nine dollars and ninety cents on a copy of Labor Law.