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“Tell me about yourself, Zara.”
I frown. “What do you want to know?”
“Anything you want to tell me. Nothin’ you don’t.”
Talking about myself isn’t something I love doing. With clients, I keep things vague. Most know not to ask about my family or for personal details. A handful over the years have wanted more of a girlfriend experience, and for them I make up a back story with enough threads of truth that it’s easy for me to remember. With Luke, I want to tell him everything. I can’t decide if it’s the intense eyes, the no nonsense way he asks his questions, or the fact that I just want him to kiss me again.
Taking a sip of my drink, I decide to start with basic history. It seems the safest. “I was born in New York, but I grew up here in Vegas, actually. You’re already aware my only living relatives that I have contact with are in London. My dad had two siblings I’ve never met, and I’ve got a few cousins scattered about, but I would have been a toddler when I met any of them and I don’t remember it.”
“And you’ve run into Owen’s people, it seems.”
I smile. “Yeah, I guess I have. I rarely take jobs in New York or London. Things could get awkward if I discover an uncle with a penchant for expensive call girls. Travel is exciting for me, so I used that as a foundation to build my business.”
“And how does one get into your line of work when they aren’t forced into it.”
“How can you be sure I wasn’t?”
He laughs. “You weren’t. We may not have found your sister, but our background check told us plenty, Flower.”
“I would be interested in seeing exactly what you found. It might be helpful should I ever need to cover my tracks.”
He shrugs. “It’s your information. I’ll get the file from Owen tomorrow.”
That was easier than I figured it would be.
“It doesn’t surprise me you didn’t find Monica. She… doesn’t want to be found.”
Luke leans forward on his knees and stares at me. “That’s never stopped us before. Why don’t you talk about her?”
I grimace. This conversation is veering into unsafe territory. “Painful story. She’s unique. We disagree on most things, and like I said, she doesn’t want to be found.”
“I can’t promise we won’t try to find her. We need to know who sent you to Oliver, Zara.”
It’s important information, I’m aware of that. But I can’t just hand over the name of my client without exploring all other options first. My livelihood depends on my discretion. “It wasn’t Monica. I can promise you that. As for the one who sent me to Oliver? Let me do some digging and make sure he can’t do any damage. I’m fairly confident he’s not involved, though. But maybe someone else told him to send me to Oliver. Give me twenty-four hours to do my own inquiries. If I can’t get someone else to point you to…” I blow out a long breath, unable to fathom that I’m about to say the next part. “I’ll give you the name of my referral.”
He picks up the glass and eyes me carefully. “Twenty-four hours. Agreed. Thank you, Flower.”
“So, Oliver confessed?”
He nods. “Unfortunately. You met him. He’s not the sharpest tool in the shed. He’s more like a blunt object.”
“And if he was involved, he wasn’t the mastermind.” It’s a statement, not a question.
“Right. So, what the hell is going on?”
I shake my head. “I wish I had a clue.”
“What did you think of High Card?” he asks, clearly done talking about our predicament. I’m happy for the subject change. The club has had me in a heightened state of arousal since we walked through the doors, and I’m dying to learn more about it.
“It’s wonderful. It was freeing and exciting.”
“Freeing how?”
“When I’m working, everything is about my clients and their fantasies. Rarely do I live out my own. What you have at High Card seems like it will be all about my fantasies if I choose to explore.”
Luke smiles. “Excellent. That’s the atmosphere we strive to foster.”
“You really are a complicated bunch, aren’t you?” I say.
