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When he’s settled, I take a deep breath and dive in. “I have a name for you. I would still rather not give you my client because I don’t think he’s involved, but I can give you the name of the person who sent him to me.”
He sits at the table with me and nods for me to continue. I guess that means it’s an acceptable compromise.
“Her name is Renda St. Claire. She’s a madame in New York that I used to let book clients for me. We’re no longer on speaking terms and parted ways years ago, but it wasn’t under pleasant circumstances. I thought she was over it, but if she’s involved in this, it’s because she wants revenge on me. I took some pretty lucrative clients away from her and her girls.”
He frowns and pats his pocket again. Cursing, he goes to his laptop and types something.
“This is helpful, Zara,” he finally says after ignoring me for several minutes while he types. “I have no idea what she has to do with the mayor, but hopefully this is enough information for us to dig something else up.”
“And you don’t need my client’s name?”
He scratches his beard and shakes his head. “No. I don’t suppose so. At least not for now.”
It will have to be good enough. I’m not going to press my luck.
“Lunch?” he asks.
My stomach growls and I realize I have eaten nothing today. When he left abruptly, I didn’t order breakfast after all.
“Please.”
“Why haven’t you eaten?” He asks with a glare as he glances at my growling stomach.
I shake my head. “Just got sidetracked.”
“Come on then. Can’t have you passing out mid-orgasm.”
My face heats, but I stand and take his outstretched hand and together we walk downstairs to yet another upscale restaurant where we both opt for the tasting menu. When we have our salads in front of us, I broach the subject of lighting.
“It would really help my business if I could film content while I’m stuck here.”
“Skylar could probably help you with that. I’ll put in a call. We’re having coffee in the morning.”
I smile. “That’s great. You’ll be friends in no time.”
He chuckles and changes the subject. “I looked at your website.”
His confession shouldn’t surprise me. I know they did a background check. But it does. Very much.
“What did you think?”
“Why do men pay you a hundred bucks a minute for videos when so much porn is out there for free?”
“Because for a hundred bucks a minute I’ll moan their names and make them feel special—or humiliated if that’s their kink. It’s mostly men with very specific fetishes. They can’t find what they’re looking for on a streaming site, so they pay to have it produced.”
“And you’re more than willing to take their hard-earned cash.”
I chuckle. “Something tells me you think I’m stealing from them.”
He shrugs. “Just seems like a lot of cash to drop. Not that you aren’t worth it, I’m sure.”
“A ten-minute video takes me a solid eight hours to produce. That’s assuming it’s simple and doesn’t require multiple scene changes. Scene changes easily add another five hours. Between blocking out a script, rehearsing, doing my makeup, buying any necessary props, and set pieces, dressing the set, adjusting the lighting, doing at least three takes with two to three angles per take, then editing all the footage, I’m lucky if I make fifty bucks an hour. And sure, plenty of people would kill to make fifty an hour. But I also have to factor in things like setting aside money for taxes, and the unpaid time it takes to close the sale or find new customers willing to buy my custom content. It’s not just as simple as flipping on a camera and being sexy.”
I glance around when I realize I’ve gone on a tangent and put a hand on my mouth. “Forgive me. I don’t usually go off like that. Especially not in public. I just wish I could get people to see how hard sex workers and adult content creators work. Streaming sites do, in fact, cut into our bottom line. Especially ones where our work is pirated. I spend at least three hours a week reporting and asking to have stolen videos taken down.”
Luke reaches for my hand. “Slow down, Zara. You’re fine. It’s fascinating to hear about. Though you’ll have to forgive me for not being thrilled about the notion of you moaning another man’s name.”
“Don’t get attached, Luke. You’re entirely too possessive for me to be anything more than a passing infatuation.” And part of me hates that. But Luke is the antithesis of the kind of man I want to settle down with. He’s a handsome playboy who thrives on glamor and city life, and he definitely wouldn’t settle for running the local grocery store.
