Three Hard Lessons (Blindfold Club 2)

“You happy to see me again?”

I grinned as I unlocked the door and stepped inside. “Of course. You weren’t working last weekend.”

I went room to room, flipping on lights and confirming setup.

Joseph’s chair was comfortable when I sat in it and booted up his computer, hooked my earpiece in, then turned on the monitors and ensured the drives were recording. Joseph was right, the place did run itself. The girls arrived and checked in, and once I finished pairing sales assistants with the girls, I scanned the member appointment list.

“Tara?” I asked into the comm system. “Mr. Red’s on the schedule.”

“He does Claudia. She won’t see anyone after him.”

I marked a line through Claudia’s name. I was more than a little curious to see Mr. Red’s face. Most of the schedule was booked. “Whose girl is willing to take an unannounced guest?”

When there were no immediate takers, Tara joked, “How about you, Payton? Room Six is open.”

There were some friendly laughs from my former coworkers, but I scowled. “No.”

“Rachel says she’s up for it,” a female voice said through the earpiece.

“Okay, thanks. Let’s go ahead and get into position. Julius?”

“Yeah, girl?”

“Can you show our first client in?”

Mr. Red showed up just after midnight. He checked in with Julius, had a glass of whiskey at the bar, and then Marquis escorted him to Room Two. I watched it all unfold on the monitors. Mr. Red’s real name was Rosso, the Italian word for red. He was a media mogul who controlled half a dozen cable networks, and had one of those name-brand personalities, like Trump, or Cuban. Ironically, I’d worked for him before I came to the club. That job I hated, the one that had driven me here? Rosso owned the company.

Black Friday, when I called in and asked to be put on the schedule, Joseph had asked if I wanted to see Mr. Red. How fucking different would my life be if I’d said yes? Dominic would have been escorted into someone else’s room and we’d never have met.

Tara wandered into the office shortly after the deal had been struck and sat at the monitors beside me, her eyes on the flickering screens. Mr. Rosso had dropped five grand on Claudia. I’d never taken less than seven from him. I watched the screen as he pulled his cock out and shoved it in Claudia’s mouth, face-fucking her on the table. I had the strange déjà vu feeling of wanting it to be over, even though I wasn’t the one servicing him.

My phone buzzed on the desktop and I glanced at the screen. Dominic?

“Hey,” he said, his voice curious when I answered. “Where are you?”

“I’m working, why?”

There was a long pause. “Working where?”

I hadn’t told him about what I was doing because I didn’t want him to know I’d have enough money to purchase a plane ticket. The goal had been to surprise him. I sighed. “I’m at the club.”

“You’re . . . where?” It didn’t come out angry, it came out horrified.

Wait, did he think I meant I was working as one of the girls? My face heated with annoyance. Yeah, I hadn’t actually said the words out loud, but he knew I loved him, right? That I belonged to him, and wouldn’t even consider . . .

“Dominic, wait, it’s not like that.”

“How exactly is it like?” Now there was anger in his voice.

Oh. So, I guess he did think I was seeing clients again. My stunned, hurt silence probably didn’t help.

“Did you take any offers tonight?”

The hurt was burned up and replaced with rage. It flooded in my veins and overpowered my brain. “Nope, not yet.”

He exhaled in a sharp burst. This was a lie by omission and I let it hang for a moment because the bitch inside me wanted to see how much he liked it when the tables were turned.

“Then again,” I added, “my price has gone way up. No one can afford me.”