Page 8 of Resist

“I’m a little confused here, Vee.” His voice cuts through the line, its tenor deep and its authority unmistaken.

“Yes?”

“I’m looking at a text from you saying Lola is no longer available for my event tonight.”

“Correct. She—”

“These aren’t exactly the terms I was promised when I signed on with you.”

“Sometimes things happen that are beyond my control,” I say placatingly, but his low rumble of a chuckle tells me he’s not buying it.

“And you knew my demands.” His words settle on the connection as I take a deep breath and try to figure out how to assuage his needs and ego simultaneously. “For the thousands I’m paying per night, I’m sure you can make these issues within your control.”

“As you know, sometimes things come up. Lola was injured. That’s not exactly something I can control.” I lean back in my chair and close my eyes. “Surely you’re a reasonable man who can understand that.”

That chuckle again. The kind that would perk the ears of most easy women and catch the attention of those who play hard to get. For me, though, it does nothing more than scrape over my nerves. “Reasonable isn’t exactly a word many would use to describe me.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“I would think a woman in your position would make it your business to vet your clientele,” he says, challenging me.

It’s my turn to laugh, low and knowingly. “I always know more than people think I do. No worries there, Mr. Lockhart.”

“Ryker.”

“And your point, Mr. Lockhart?” I reiterate to let him know I don’t take direction from him.

“My point is that this could be a very valuable relationship between us. I have a lot of men who want companionship without complications, and you have the means to provide it.”

“No one said I needed more clients,” I lie, loathing the arrogance in his tone.

“There is no such thing as too many clients. Nice try, though. I can see this game you’re playing quite clearly, Vee. I tell you to do something. You do the opposite of what I say to assert that you’re the one in charge in this situation here. We talk a bit more before the cycle begins again. I think what you’re forgetting in our little exchange is that without someone like me, you’re nothing. I have the money. I have the contacts. And while selling sex is one of the oldest professions known to man, you’re forgetting that it just takes one bad step to ruin that reputation you’re crafting . . . so we can keep playing this game your way, or we can just get down to business with a mutual understanding that neither one of us will be abdicating any power to the other.”

Silence weighs heavily between us as I straighten my shoulders and fight the urge to hang up the phone. It’s the first time since I’ve started Wicked Ways that I’ve been made to feel like the girl I once was—powerless and trapped despite being surrounded by riches.

I clear my throat and shake off the sudden inferiority his words brought on.

“I have a catalog of other highly skilled, equally gorgeous women—”

“I’ve looked through them all already.”

“—who would be more than willing to fulfill your needs, Mr. Lockhart.”

“I have a lot of needs,” he murmurs, and something about the way he says it makes me shift in my seat.

“Yes, the needs were clearly outlined in your dossier. One woman who is yours when you need her to be.” The snap-my-fingers-my-ego-is-too-big syndrome.

“Consistency is what I need. She’s more than able to make her own money when I don’t need her, but when I do, I expect her to be there. No scheduling conflicts. No ifs, ands, or buts. My job, my reputation, is based on many things, and a woman causing trouble for me isn’t one of those.”

“As you’ve stated previously. And as I assured you, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Ah, but now it is a problem because the one woman I wanted is the one woman you’re telling me I can no longer have.”

“I have many others who meet your requirements.” I pause and scroll down his profile. “She needs to come off well educated. Classy. Current on politics and world events. Able to play the part.” I say the words but know that I don’t, in fact, have that. My ladies aren’t exactly giving up jobs as doctors and astrophysicists to be escorts.

“Lola was screened for me.”

The damn blood tests. God, how he made a fuss about wanting a woman with a clean health check because if he was going to pay $4,000 for a night with a woman, he sure as hell wanted to feel her, skin on skin. Add to that the terms that Lola signed in return stating that she was on birth control, and if she were to have other companions, all sex must be protected or else risk a lawsuit of ridiculous monetary value.