“You’ll need to call your father about this,” she said, stroking my hair.
“Ugh, I know.” I groaned and buried my face against her collarbone. Inhaling her sweet perfume, I sighed. “He won’t be happy I was caught again.”
“I’m sure he’ll understand.” She tugged me away from her and cupped my cheeks, pressing a comforting kiss on my forehead. That’s what I liked about Madam Winters, what we all liked. She was a mother figure to us. She didn’t just take whores off the street and work them to the bone; she cared, and protected us. God help whatever man or woman raised their hand to one of us. It had happened once or twice, and I never knew what transpired with those clients after that because we certainly never saw them again. At one point there’d been a Killough soldier who’d made that mistake, which resulted in a visit from the Irish mob boss. I suspected that soldier’s body was either burned by a King named Undertaker or had been sunk to the bottom of the lake.
It didn’t take long to get to my apartment. I lived in the city, close to downtown, in a flashy building with a doorman who had previous law enforcement experience. He was a nice fellow by the name of Owen and always greeted me with a salute, as though we were in the army. The grunge-green uniform he wore matched the attitude of a soldier, too, but I knew that was a decision from the apartment building’s homeowners association, which I had never chosen to concern myself with.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Kennedy,” Owen greeted, giving me that salute as I got out of Madam Winters’s car and said goodbye to her. I smiled in greeting at him as he yanked open the door. “Great weather, am I right?”
Hardly. Spring had only just started and it was still cool out, which made wearing a mesh shirt even worse. Maybe my lack of a jacket was why he’d said the comment, but I merely nodded in his direction as I stepped inside and through the foyer. Some of my neighbors paused to give me their regular sneer, but I gave them a wave and a grin as I glided past them and to the elevators. Another man in a suit and trench coat was already waiting when I got there.
The trip up to the third floor from the top took too long, and the man who’d gotten in with me gave me an interested stare, his eyes glued not so subtly to my ass. I gave him a sparkling smile in return.
“I cost a pretty penny. At the Courtesan, if you’re interested.” I winked at him when the doors opened and waltzed out, swaying my ass for good measure because I might not need the money, but I liked selling myself. It beat the hell out of boredom.
As the doors closed, I blew him a kiss.
I sighed and pulled the key out of my pocket. The cops had taken everything from me when they’d booked me, and although I didn’t have much to begin with because we’d left a lot in Ross’s car, they gave it all back when River was done ripping them a new one. Luckily I’d thought to bring my apartment key. I’d have to find Ross after this was over and get my belongings back.
Once I was inside, I went straight to the large bathroom—it had stronger water pressure—and ditched my clothing as I stepped through the glass doors of the shower. The brown tiles on the walls brought forth a calmness in me, and I leaned my head against them as the hot spray of water from the showerhead on the ceiling cascaded down on me like a waterfall. The events of today washed away with the swirling water down the drain, and while I could usually let it go, this time it stuck with me as I thought about Ross. It’d been his choice to fuck in the stairwell. It wasn’t the first time we’d done it, and the thrill of being caught had always been exciting. I’d gone with it today, too, because that was my job, but I wished it had worked out differently this time. I could only imagine how the media would portray him.
Pervert. They would paint him as absolutely depraved. No one ever really respected sex work, thinking it was dirty, but more people paid for sex than society thought. Then there was porn and OnlyFans. Sex work was important in this world. I knew how journalists worked, though. They were bastards who took pleasure in fucking up other people’s lives.
I thought of Dad and sighed again. Finishing off my shower as quickly as I could, I dried and went to my bedroom and the walk-in closet, grabbing some loose clothes I liked to wear around the house. There wasn’t anything sensual about them, but I had no one to be sexy for here.
I plucked my phone from the clothes on the bathroom floor and then headed into the living room, falling into the roomy L-shaped couch that took up a large amount of space there. I lay across the cushions and hit Dad’s number on my phone.
“Lane?” he answered, almost immediately, as he always did when I called him.
“Hey, Dad.” I smiled at the sound of his voice, strong and safe.
“What happened? Madam Winters called, something about you being arrested.” I could already imagine him pacing his office, wearing a mark into the carpet from worry.
“I was.” I ran a hand over my face, digging my fingers into my eye sockets, hoping to push away some of the tiredness that had snuck up on me. My body was sore and aching, and I wanted nothing more than to curl up here on the couch and sleep for a few hours. “I was caught with Mayor Midberry in the stairwell of city hall.”
“In a compromising position?” Dad exhaled, and I could hear the disappointment there, theyou should have known betterthat he didn’t say.
“Yes. He was arrested, as was I.”
“In city hall? What were you thinking, Lane? What washethinking?” Dad tsked.
“He’s a good man,” I argued quietly. Dad was the last person I had to tell that, so I didn’t know why I felt the need to defend Ross. Maybe because I liked Ross, and I hated people who didn’t know him judging his actions.
“Nonetheless, he’s a mayor. He should have known better,” Dad said, his voice full of understanding, even though his words showed his displeasure about the situation. If anyone knew how vile the media could be, it was Dad. He was a mayor, just like Ross, but in Pleasant Beach, California. He dealt with the same things, from tackling homelessness to motorcycle clubs. Although, as far as I knew, Ross didn’t have any contact with the bikers in New Gothenburg, while Dad had deals with the Norse Lords MC in Pleasant Beach. They were beneficial partners for the city.
“I think he may lose his job,” I whispered, staring up at the patterns carved into the white ceiling. “It might be my fault.”
“Bullshit. It’s his fault. If he wanted to have sex there, that’s on him. As long as you got out of there without a record, Lane.”
I nodded, even though I knew he couldn’t see me. “River fixed that. I think they’re scared of him.”
Dad laughed, and I couldn’t help but smile. I loved how safe I felt with him, and even though I missed him, I was happy here in New Gothenburg, too. I had my own life, although Dad gave me a monthly allowance and bought me an apartment. He didn’t judge me, even when I chose to sell myself for the hell of it. But sex work was interesting, and I’d met the most intriguing people. It sated the desire for adventure I’d always had since I was a kid. Not everyone who sold themselves came from a bad background. Some of the other Courtesans I worked with were proof of that.
“I miss you,” I told him.
“I miss you, too, Laney. Maybe me and your papa can visit sometime soon.”
I grinned at the thought, warmth flooding through me. “I’d like that. I miss you both a lot. I’m exhausted, though. I just wanted to call you to tell you what happened. Can we talk later tonight after I rest?”
