“Don’t you have enough cash by now?” I asked. I knew the answer to that too.
“A girl can never have enough cash, Sasha,” my friend said. “Actually, I’m quite surprised you’re even asking that. How’s your mom doing?”
Her question was aimed straight for the heart. My escort job for Leo might have given me more money to send back home, but I was in no position to take a week off work. Every spare cent went home to Mom. Aside from what I needed for food and clothing of course. And clothing was essential in my line of work. No man wanted to cough up a wad of notes for a hot date and have her looking like a bag lady. Luckily, I loved to shop. I’d hit every thrift store in our suburb and found all the hidden treasures.
My phone buzzed again. I heaved a sigh. Renée didn’t bother to say anything this time. A raised eyebrow was enough.
Leo’s messages had been couched as casual greetings, as usual. We spoke in code. Nobody wanted a string of messages detailing johns who wanted a hookup.
Whats up?I texted back to him.
Up for a date?Triple your usual rate,he replied almost immediately.
I blinked and Renée tilted her head in question. I shrugged.
Who is it?I sent back.
Regular client,was his answering text.
“Looks like old Bert wants to atone for his sins,” I said to Renee.
“So let him,” she chuckled. She leaned down to touch up the scarlet on her toenails.
Time and place?I sent to Leo. Triple my rate would not go amiss. And Bert wasn’t that bad. If I could just get over my shit. The bruises he’d left hadn’t been made maliciously. He’d been drunk. He hadn’t meant anything by it.
∞∞∞
Several hours later, I was standing before the entrance of a penthouse suite. I smoothed my emerald-green dress over my hips and raised a hand to knock at the door.
Sheesh! He must really want to make it up to me,I thought to myself. Light music played from within. I guessed this would be another of his small cocktail parties. It had happened once or twice before. Bert would invite business partners to some fancy place, and I’d have to pretend to be his girlfriend. I heard the door handle turn and plastered on a bright smile. The man who opened for me was unfamiliar. I kept the smile on regardless.
Stepping over the threshold, I was surprised by the opulence of the place. This was a step above Bert’s usual budget. He liked to play high roller, but normally we’d hit the midrange hotels. This was next level Park Avenue. Perhaps he’d come into some cash.
Either way, things were more than a little unusual. There was nobody else in sight, aside from the guy who’d opened the door. He silently gestured for me to go in. I clutched my purse tighter, then walked forward.
A man was sitting on a long velvet sofa with his back to me. He was looking out at the skyline through the window before him. The dark head I could see over the back of the sofa didn’t appear to be Umberto.
“Bert?” I said tentatively. What the hell was going on? The head turned toward me, and I felt myself freeze. It was definitely not Umberto. It took me a moment to recognize the man standing up to greet me. I’d seen him only once before. He’d been surrounded by girls in the VIP lounge the night Bert passed out. The stranger who’d been sitting near us. The creep. My gut lurched.
“Sasha,” he said smoothly. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
I felt my smile slip but tried to keep my voice level as I replied. “Hello. I expected Bert.”
He tilted his head, walking closer. “Why?”
It was a good question. Leo hadn’t given any clue of who I’d be meeting. I’d assumed it was Bert. But I’d never in a million years expected to see this guy.
“You remember who I am,” he said. It seemed to satisfy him somehow. Maybe he thought he’d made a positive impression. That couldn’t be further from the truth. He’d creeped me out.
I nodded, keeping my response neutral. “How did you find me?” I asked. His smile was feral.
“I did a little…digging, I suppose you could say,” he replied. He was now close enough to reach out and touch me. Thank God he didn’t. But I couldn’t shake the feeling this whole scenario was wrong.
Leo never sent me to new clients alone. We’d always meet the first time at a function. Sometimes in a bar or club. Someplace I could check the guy out and decide if I wanted to spend time with him. As much as I hated the career I’d been forced into, my boss ran things well. I guess it made sense to protect his team.
“Digging how?” I pressed. If there was some sort of hole in Leo’s security, I wanted to know about it.
“Let’s just say Umberto and I move in similar…circles,” he responded. I was pretty sure I wouldn’t get much more out of him. “But please, enough of this interrogation.” He turned toward an ice bucket holding a bottle. It was set beside a vast platter of oysters.
