“Prostitution is a real crime,” I argued.
He shook his head. “Only because we say it is. Legalize it and allow for safer working conditions for the workers, reduce the ability of shitheads to prey on those who are vulnerable,andit would cut down on sex trafficking, I bet.”
I twisted my lips and looked at him with skepticism. “How so?”
“If you legalize prostitution, those who take part in it wouldn’t have to hide or be afraid to come to the police when they see things like trafficking happening. They’d be more likely to work with the police to catch actual criminals instead of running from the police.”
I thought about it for a moment.
“You might have a point,” I conceded. “But that would make it easier for cheaters to be unfaithful.”
“They’re doing it anyway.”
“You’re right about that.” I thought about my job and all the married Johns I’d arrested.
He grinned. “See? I’m not just a pretty face.”
He wiggled his eyebrows, and I turned my head to hide my smile. I was sure my stomach would be sore the next day from laughing so much during our time together.
“Is that why you became a cop? To help people?”
“That and I couldn’t see myself in a regular nine to five,” I said. “I was a tomboy growing up. I still am, I guess. I enjoyed playing sports and roughhousing with the boys outdoors instead of learning to cook like my mother tried to teach me.”
Don’s face brightened. “Corey says you can’t cook worth a damn.”
I pressed my palm against my chest, giving him an offended look. “I’m going to have to tell my brother to stop telling all of my business.”
He chuckled. “I’ve been with him a few times when he dropped off some of your mother’s leftovers for you at work, remember?”
“It’s not my fault she still enjoys cooking for me, and I love eating it. Getting back to the subject at hand...I played intramural sports in college and studied criminal justice. I thought maybe I’d eventually go to work for a federal agency, but, ugh, there’s more red tape there than at the local PD.”
I shuddered at the thought of being bogged down by so many rules and regulations. Constantly being under the watchful eye of such strict administration didn’t suit me at all.
“If not working for the department, then what’s next?”
I hesitated. There was a career I’d thought about switching to for a few years. With my credentials and experience in undercover work, I could easily slip into it.
“By that look, I can see you’ve already thought of something,” he pointed out, “so don’t even dream of bullshitting me by telling me you haven’t decided.”
“Private investigation,” I blurted out. “I want to start my own firm, mostly working with female clientele. I’ve already gotten my licensure and worked a few freelance cases.”
It felt good to have said that out loud to someone. Yet, I still held my breath, bracing for Don’s reaction, and cautiously peered up at him out of the corner of my eye.
He grabbed my arm by the elbow, a gleam in his eyes. “You’d be fantastic at that.”
“You think so?” I blanched at the uncertainty in my voice. Usually, I didn’t lack confidence in my abilities, but this was different.
“Why wouldn’t you? You have the degree, the experience, and even Corey says all the time how dogged you are in getting whatever you want. Those sound like the perfect qualities for a PI. My father was a detective for many years. I know what makes a good detective when I see one.”
His words filled a space inside me I hadn’t even realized was empty.
“My ex laughed in my face when I told him,” I admitted.
I’d thought about going into private investigation for a while. When I’d brought it up to Stephen, he’d told me to get real, saying I had no business starting my own firm. Once we were married, he’d expected me to take on the responsibilities at home full-time.
Young and dumb, I’d assumed that meant he saw a future with me. I’d been naive enough to consider giving up my dreams for the person I loved. I’d thought it was romantic.
Yeah, right.
