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I leaned my head back against the headboard, my heart racing. The guy hadn’t seemed to be able to get rid of me fast enough. Now he was already after a repeat performance. What the hell was that about? Could I go there again? The thought sent a strange mixture of arousal and trepidation through my body. “I don’t know, Tom. I’m going to have to think about it and let you know.”

Tom’s sigh didn’t come as a surprise. “I know you don’t normally do repeat clients, but I thought you might be glad of the opportunity for some consistent money. You won’t have to work as many shifts at the restaurant. It’ll give you more time for auditions.”

“I know! It’s just…” There was no way I could explain without giving away the fact a mystery man had managed to blow my mind. “I’ll call you, either later today…or tomorrow. Let you know what I’ve decided.”

Tom grudgingly agreed, and I said my goodbyes, my thoughts even more confused than they’d been before the call. I dropped my head back against the pillow with an audible groan.

* * * *

“Dean!”

The summons had come from the kitchen. I quickly finished fastening the bow tie of my standard waiter uniform before going to find out why Georgia felt the need to holler at me in such an urgent fashion. One step into the kitchen, I stopped. “Shit!” There was water and suds all over the floor. A distressed-looking Georgia was at the center of it, ankle-deep in the water, desperately trying her best to mop it up.

Once she registered my presence, she shot me an annoyed look. “I think the washing machine’s dead.”

I stood and surveyed the damage. “I think you might be right.”

Georgia threw the mop away in frustration. “What are we going to do? We need a washing machine.”

I ran a hand through my hair, equally stressed at the sight. “Get a new one I guess. Or pay to get this one fixed. Whichever option is cheaper.”

A hopeful look was aimed my way. “You’ve got the money for that?”

“No.” I let the inevitability settle over me like a heavy blanket of snow. “But I can get it.”

Georgia paddled through the water toward me. “Yeah? How?”

I took a step back as the water seeped slowly nearer and came dangerously close to touching my work shoes. I didn’t want to add the cost of a pair of new shoes onto the rapidly growing list of things I needed to buy. “The…client from last night. He wants to make it a regular thing. I wasn’t sure. But, it’s not a problem. I can ring Tom, and then next Tuesday, we’ll have money for a new washing machine.” I managed a weak smile.

Georgia’s gaze honed in on it like a heat-seeking missile. “What’s wrong? What aren’t you saying? What happened last night? Why would you turn down a chance for some regular money?” At the last question, I raised a disbelieving eyebrow. She tilted her head to one side. “Okay, well. Apart from the whole sex for money thing.” She waved a hand, as if to dismiss that as being no big deal. “What happened, Dean?” Checking my watch, I sighed, and then relayed the whole story to her as she listened intently.

“So, this guy could have been anyone?”

I nodded.

“How do you know he isn’t like really, really old?”

I flinched. “I don’t.”

She screwed her face up. “He could be ninety-two…or older. There must be some reason he wanted to do it in the dark.”

“Yeah, thanks, Georgia. You’re not saying anything that hasn’t already occurred to me.”

She thought for a moment, before wiggling her hands in my direction. “Did he feel old when he touched you?”

“Not really.” I was already beginning to regret having told her anything.

“What about when he…” She moved her hips in a lewd interpretation of fucking. “Couldn’t you tell then?”

“No.” I thought back, wondering if I’d missed any obvious clues, but all I could recall was how bloody good it had felt. “It wasn’t what I was really thinking about.”

She must have read something in my face. “Don’t go back, Dean, if you don’t want to. We’ll get the money from somewhere else. I can talk to my mum. She might be able to lend it to me.”

We both knew that was an absolute pipe dream. Georgia’s mum was three quarters of the way to being an alcoholic. Any money she had went on booze. Georgia usually lent her money rather than the other way around.

Georgia leaned in, wrapping her arms tightly around my waist. “You’ve got an audition tomorrow. You’ll get the part.”

I smiled, appreciating her optimism and returned the hug. “Even if I do, it doesn’t pay that much. It’s not a problem, honest. I’ll call Tom tonight and tell him to count me in for another session with Mr. Mystery. Give him a chance to turn the light on and reveal himself as Richard Gere. You’ll probably have to prepare yourself for the fact that I won’t come back. He’ll no doubt whisk me off to his secret penthouse and spend his days buying me expensive gifts.”