Alana: No. But let me ask the reinforcements.
Izzy: Let me ask the boys.
Izzy: Lance says no, Thiago said no, Dimitri sent a gif saying “hell no”. And Uri wants to know if the sex was good.
Me: Meh.
Izzy: Then absolutely fucking not.
Alana: According to the thirty-seven personal security agents on my staff, no. Okay, one guy says maybe, but he’s also desperately trying to get back with his ex-wife, so I don’t know how reliable he is.
Wow. Okay then. It’s nice to know everyone confirmed my thoughts.
Bringing myself back to the world around me, I check my surroundings. Fuck. I’ve gone farther than I thought. And, double fuck, I’ve crossed onto Carver Street. And 632 is only three buildings away. Let’s turn around and pay better attention next time.
I exhale with relief and self-loathing. How could I be so stupid? What a rookie mistake. I’m still beating myself up when I walk into Nonna’s house to drop off Kingston.
Joey is sitting at the kitchen table with a laptop open. Kingston puts his front paws on Joey’s leg. Joey reaches down and pets behind the dog's ears without taking his eyes off the screen. “I’ve got two envelopes for you. One is from Nonna, and the other is from me.”
Right, Izzy said it would be there for me. I slide the one from Nonna into my shoulder bag and reach for his, which is thick. I open it, and green paper in a perfectly aligned stack greets me. “What the hell is this?” Is he firing me? “Are you paying off my contract?”
“No. It’s a refund.”
“For what?”
He keeps his eyes on his screen, clicking away. “I was working last night, and I saw your name as a member of one of my establishments. I noticed you hadn’t been there in over a year, but your membership renewed.”
What membership?
Oh.
My.
God.
My mouth dries and I have to force the words out. “I’m going to throw myself off a cliff now. Bye.”
Shit. Get me out of this room as fast as possible.
There’s only one membership I haven’t been using. And of course he owns a sex club. The sex club. What are the odds? Well, in my life, apparently pretty fucking high.
“I’m trying to help you out.” There’s no remorse in his voice for how he’s made me feel. It’s dry and completely devoid of emotion. Business sterile.
Beyond my personal hell of embarrassment, this doesn’t sit right with me. And it takes a few seconds to process why. You know what? I tried being nice and mature. But fuck that. “By violating my privacy?” I let my rage drip with every word.
He starts to get flustered. “It’s an expensive membership, and I thought you could’ve used the money…”
I’ve been shit on my entire adult life for my career choice—it’s not a real job, do something better with your life, etc. etc. I’ll be damned if I take any crap from Joey.
“You thought you would research what I do in my private time but not look into my professional life at all. A professional life is the only connection we have. And you assumed, because I walk dogs, I couldn’t afford the annual membership to a sex club?”
He blinks at me a few times. “Yeah.”
“Go fuck yourself. Then Google me.” I turn away, and as I grab my phone, more connections start to fit together. “Did you beat the shit out of my ex-boyfriend?”
He pauses for a long time, almost in a suspended animation. “No.”
“To what? My question or my demands?”
