Three Simple Rules (Blindfold Club 1)

“I’d like to point out that you signed off on the proof, too.” I hadn’t wanted to bring it up, but he’d left me no choice.

“I sign off on dozens of rounds of artwork a day. I don’t proof legals because I expect my people to be able to execute simple t

hings like this.”

I tried not to let it sting, but his truth cut into me. “Your boss might see it otherwise.” As my manager, his job could be in jeopardy for my mistake.

His eyes went narrow. “You’ve got that kind of money?”

“No,” I said, “but . . . I think I can get it.”

“That sounds ominous. How?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Because lord knows, I was plenty worried about it enough for both of us. “Please, Logan. I made a stupid mistake that I’m going to beat myself up over about for the next ten years. I love this job. I need this job. Please.”

He leaned back in his chair, his gaze drifting away from mine and falling down onto the case card.

“If I do this, you better not breathe a word of it to anyone else.”

I wasn’t sure if it was relief or trepidation that filled my body. “Of course.”

“Go back to your desk and get me the corrected file. Hurry before I change my mind.” He passed the case card back to me with a pointed look. I scrambled for the door but froze.

“I’ll have to know,” I said, “how much I need to come up with.”

His face was unreadable. “I’ll let you know.”

I couldn’t look at the FedEx box when I returned to my desk. I jammed the sample in the garbage and updated the artwork, then emailed the file name and location to Logan. My phone rang a few minutes later with his extension flashing on screen.

“Ninety-six hundred.” That was all he said before hanging up, and even with that few words I could hear the anger in his voice. Anger that I’d drawn him into this terrible situation.

Yeah, well, the joke’s on you. I’d put myself in a much worse situation.

I was about to become a whore.

chapter

TWO

I followed Payton into the upscale salon, and I was sure I was going to throw up on the marble tile floor inside. We were meeting her manager, Joseph. Her pimp, who, assuming everything went okay with our meeting, would become my pimp.

“Just breathe,” Payton said. She was beyond thrilled when I’d confessed what I needed. She felt bad how I’d come to the decision, but she had absolute certainty that this was the first step on my road to sexual awakening.

It wasn’t a step, this was like being strapped to a rocket.

It seemed odd to meet here, but if Joseph agreed to let me see clients, he would have a say about the way I looked, specifically the downstairs area. Payton had filled me in on what to expect, but Joseph wasn’t what I had expected. He was a thirty-something, elegant man with coat-hanger shoulders and a devilish smile.

“Nice to meet you, Evelyn. I’ve heard many good things.” He shook my hand and then gestured for us to follow him past the wash sinks and into the back. He led us into a room I guessed was used for the waxing, and he sat on the table, assessing me with his gaze.

“I’m sure Payton has told you how this works, but things would be different with you. Your friend is a rare woman, which you probably already know.”

“Yes,” I said, the nerves making it difficult to speak.

“I understand you’re looking for a one-night only sort of thing?”

“Right.” Payton had a contract. Not a legally binding one, since what she did was highly illegal, but she’d agreed to work a set number of nights at the club in exchange for a much larger percentage. “I don’t really think this is for me, but I—”

“You need the money,” he said. “I get it. I’ll extend a one-night contract to you because I trust Payton. She thinks once you’ve had a taste you’re going to want more.”