“I was, but not of Jim.” She won’t look at me. I resist the urge to force her to. “I wasn’t exactly expecting to see you here.”
“So you ran from me?” She hangs her head, and I remember the look she shared with Brady and how nervous he appeared. “No, it’s more. You know Brady?”
She nods. “It was a long time ago. Look, I need to get back to work.”
My hand curls around her arm when she starts to walk away.
“No way. We need to talk.”
She tears her arm free. “My boss is watching. I can’t get fired.”
“Where’s your boss?”
Her eyes move to the bar. I know who she is talking about because he’s staring right at us.
“You get dressed. I’ll pay your boss. You’re spending the night with me.”
My entire body trembles as I watch Ryan walk away. I tried to convince him he couldn’t afford to hire me for the entire night, but he laughed at me. I remember him handing eight hundred dollars to Jim like it was nothing, and the ridiculous amount he spent on cigars. Maybe he can afford me.
Ryan talks with my boss, who looks at me for confirmation that I’ve agreed to a new client, and I nod. Why did I nod? Although I hate this profession, I have it better than most of the girls here, a few regulars, and no one else without my approval, but as soon as money changes hands, there’s no going back.
Spending an hour in one of the rooms here is torture. I don’t have any idea how I’ll make it an entire night. Backstage, I towel-dry my hair and slip into my street clothes. I don’t know why Ryan wants me to get dressed if he wants to spend the night with me. I’m not sure if I can go through with this. Strangers, yes. Regulars, yes. A guy I met outside of the club who I’m insanely attracted to and haven’t been able to stop thinking about? No. But I have to. The cash is in my boss’s pocket, and I can’t lose my job.
The door sticks when I try to open it. After a good yank, it finally opens. Ryan smiles at me as his eyes rake over me slowly.
“Better,” he says quietly, and takes my hand.
We walk toward the door to exit the club, and I stop. “Rooms are in the back.”
“We aren’t staying here, sweet girl.”
Instinctively, I start backing up. “I’m not leaving with you. I don’t even know you.”
He closes the gap between us, his dark stare intense.
“You know me better than most of the men here.”
That’s true, but I’m still worried. “I don’t leave with them. How do I know you won’t chop me up into little pieces?”
He pulls me roughly against his side and whispers in my ear, “I won’t hurt you. I want to fuck, and I’m not doing it in a filthy back room at this club.”
I push my hands into his chest and shove him back. “Oh, okay, so you’re taking a hooker to a nicer place to fuck her. Wow, how moral of you.”
His nostrils flare on a sharp inhale. The vein in his neck throbs as he nears me. “I paid for the night under my terms, so yes, we are going to a ‘nicer’ place to fuck.”
I march past him and walk until I’m outside. He follows me out of the club. My heart races, and anger burns my skin. I like this guy, and now he’s paid to fuck me for one night. I can’t. “And, don’t call me sweet girl. I’m not your girl, sweet or otherwise. I’m just a girl you paid to fuck.”
A devilish grin curls his lips. “Okay, so, do you want me to call you, Girl I Paid to Fuck or Monica or Maria? You have a few names to choose from. Pardon me if it’s a little confusing.”
The indignant tone he uses prickles my skin, but I swallow my anger. I don’t want Ryan to think of
me as a hooker, even if that’s who I am to him. I should have kept my big mouth shut. “My name is Maria. I only use Monica here.”
He smiles and tucks a wet lock of hair behind my ear, his hand lingering on my cheek. I ignore the shiver jolting through me and pretend it’s because my hair is wet and I’m cold.
“I like Maria much better,” he says, his hand falling away.
I shiver again. Does he mean the name or the person? I like Maria much better than Monica, too. But Monica has confidence and pays the bills.