“Of course there are others who facilitate such a large business.” I need to know if he will make the final decision, or if he plans on handing me off to an underling after I sign the contract.
“I’m the sole owner.”
“And we’d be working directly with you?”
“Yes, I handle all our larger clients personally.” He grins on the word “personally,” and the red flag in my brain twitches.
“We already service many of the clubs here in Vegas and L.A., but we think growing the business is essential to success—as in adding Selective Services to your roster.”
“I see.” His sharp eyes never leave mine. “I can imagine Los Angeles and Las Vegas are equally profitable with the number of clients looking to have a beautiful woman on their arm.”
I cock my head slightly. “I’ve learned over the years that most men are just looking for companionship.”
“Really.” He huffs out a rude laugh. “I’ve learned thatmost men want sex, and having a beautiful woman is just an added bonus.”
My jaw clenches, and Izzy’s eyes burn into Graham’s back. We briefly make eye contact over his shoulder, then I focus on Graham.
“Selective Services is run like any other business with an emphasis on professionalism and profit.” I pick up the remote on my desk and click the monitor to life. “If you take a look at the slideshow, you’ll see we offer limousine service to and from the?—”
He puts up his hand. “The slideshow isn’t necessary.”
“I think it’s important for you to see exactly what we do, so you’ll know how to move forward with our promotion.”
“I already know what you do.” This time, there’s no denying the smarmy smile.
“I’m afraid there might be a misunderstanding about?—”
“I would like to set up a trial run with some of your girls.”
“I’m not sure what you mean by trial run.” My bullshit meter is in high gear, and that red flag is flying at full mast.
“I want to see exactly what your girls do and how they perform.” He looks over his shoulder, then leans into the desk. “First-hand.”
“I have all their bios on the slideshow and listed in the link on our website, so I don’t know what you mean by a ‘trial run,’ and we refer to our workers as women, not girls.”
I try to give Graham Pierce the benefit of the doubt, but the alarms in my head are ringing loud and clear.
His lips twist, and I expect a sexist reply, but just as quickly, the smirky smile disappears. “Perhaps I worded that wrong. What I mean is, I would like to observe your service and the women who work for you in an actual club atmosphere.”
“I can give you a list of the clubs that use us. You’rewelcome to speak to the managers regarding our references. I assure you, we have glowing recommendations and reputations.”
“I’m sure.”
I draw in a cleansing breath, proud I kept this meeting on track. Dealing with arrogant assholes isn’t new, but there is something genuinely unsettling about Graham Pierce.
I open the folder on my desk and turn it toward him. “These are the contracts every client signs so they know the rules going in. Whether a client wants a one-on-one experience or a group, the time is settled up front, along with any additions. Depending on the occasion, sometimes costumes or a certain look is required. We just did a corporate event with a Mardi Gras theme.”
Graham briefly glances at them, then locks eyes with me. “I find it very interesting that you conduct your business in a suite at the Bellagio.”
“When we first came to Vegas, it was a deal we made with the hotel. Much cheaper than renting space on the main lobby floor.”
“And I’m sure much more convenient.”
“Excuse me?” No matter how I tried, I couldn’t let that slip by, or keep the edge out of my voice.
“Let’s cut out all the bells and whistles.” He waves his arm at the monitor, then at the folders on my desk. “None of this is necessary.”
“It is if you want to?—”
