Fix was quick to lean over and shove the lollipop into his mouth. “No buts. Clear out of my kitchen.”
“Fine,” Ash mumbled petulantly, plucking the lollipop out of his mouth and glaring at Fix. “I don’t like lemon.”
“I know,” Fix said. “Out!”
Ash gathered his clothes up and waddled out of the kitchen, grumbling all the way to the door.
Morgan went to head after him, but Fix called out, “Morgan, do you have a moment?”
Morgan seemed utterly surprised but paused easily, taking a few steps back. “Sure. What’s up?”
“How much do you know about streaming platforms for sex workers?”
Morgan raised a curious eyebrow before hopping onto one of their bar stools and leaning forward on his elbows. “From a consumer side or from the other one? Because as a consumer I could give you a list of my favorite sites and performers, but I doubt that’s what you’re after. You don’t seem like the type.”
“It’s not, no,” Fix said. “I have a client who’s a performer on one of the platforms.”
“Which one?”
“I’m not sure.”
“What’s his name? If he’s any good I’ve seen him,” Morgan said. “We like to keep an eye out for competition or new talent.”
Fix shook his head. “No idea.”
“You didn’t ask him?” Morgan asked incredulously.
“I didn’t, no.”
“And you didn’t look him up?” Morgan pressed.
“I didn’t want to invade his privacy.”
More than I already have.
Morgan made a face. “He’s a performer, Fix. Looking at his work is literally the point.”
Fix ran a hand over his face before leaning against the counter and sighing. “I know. But I didn’t want to do it. He’s…he’s different.”
“Ooooooh. Different. As in…yours.”
“How…?”
“Ash might have mentioned your preferences,” Morgan said with a careless flick of his painted fingernails. Fix caught a glimpse of the burn scar on the center of his palm, the image of an eye forever marked. “Not that I didn’t clock them myself. You have daddy written all over you.”
“Oh for—”
“You know I don’t give a fuck,” Morgan said dismissively. “You like what you like. Nobody’s business.”
“Right.” Fix felt like the conversation was not going where he wanted it to go.
“Anyway, streaming platforms.” Morgan put them back on track. “What do you wanna know?”
“How easy would it be for a fan to find personal information about a performer?”
Morgan frowned, dark brows meeting over serious eyes. “My boss puts a LOT of money and effort into security, so I can confidently say our artists are as safe as they can be, but some sites are shady as fuck.”
“So it’s possible?”
