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“Get older?” I asked. “There’s no such thing in this line of work. There’s no retirement. You die young—as you should.”
“Dying young…that doesn’t scare you?”
“Not one bit.”
“So, a wife and a family… Not your thing?”
“Having me as a husband would be torture. And my kids would hate me.”
She watched me, her eyes dissecting me.
“Are we done with this conversation now?” I asked. “Because we have shit to do.”
“Yeah…I guess.”
7
LAURA
I was on the phone when a guy walked into the office.
I sayguybecause he definitely wasn’t a client. Just like Bartholomew, he was dressed all in black, like he worked the streets all night and was about to finish his shift at ten in the morning.
“Anne, let me call you back.”
Without saying a word, he placed a sealed package on the counter. There was no writing on the outside. Then he walked out and disappeared as quickly as he’d arrived.
I pulled out the papers Bartholomew had sent me.
The first was his medical clearance, results from his STI panel, proving that he kept his dick clean. The test had been performed at some lab facility, and I found it funny to imagine Bartholomew walking in there…looking like Bartholomew. He probably had his own doctor on staff, but to assure me he didn’t alter the results, he’d gone somewhere neutral.
There was also a note along with a hotel key.
Four Seasons
Room 822
8 p.m.
That was all it said.
This was such a bad idea. No matter how good the sex was, it wasn’t worth getting pulled into his darkness. It wasn’t worth having his cronies swing by my office. It wasn’t worth all the risk.
But I’d dated on and off for years, and only the bad ones knew how to do it good.
* * *
The hotel was the epitome of luxury. Flowers on every table. Gold elevators. Glass staircases. I stepped into the elevator and hit the button to reach the eighth floor, looking at my image in the sea of gold.
My heart was like a fucking race car.
I’d fucked this man twice, and yet, it felt like the first time.
No man had ever made me so nervous. Made my heart pump with adrenaline. Made me a little afraid to be in his presence.
The doors opened, and I stepped into the carpeted hallway. At the end of the hall was the room I was looking for, crystal chandelier on the way, low-lit scones along the walls that looked like singing angels.
I swiped the card over the door and stepped inside.
