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“Fuck, Bee. What do you want me to say? I let her suck my dick? Fine. I feel like I’m on trial here.”
“Who is she? Where did you even meet?”
He sighed. “She’s an ex cheerleader. I met her at a bar. She doesn’t mean anything to me. She’s just some girl.”
Just some girl. Like me? “What did she whisper in your ear?”
“Nothing important.”
Oh God, why did I come here? I turned away from him and stared at the opposite side of the room. There was a gold curtain. It must separate us from wherever the music was coming from. Maybe it was a naked band. Like a weird groupie thing?
I wanted to think this place was disgusting and horrible. But it made sense that Patrick had come here. It was fancy. It was better than our small, dingy apartment. It was better than anything I could give him. Better than me. I never wore short, sparkly dresses for him. Maybe I had stopped trying. Maybe Patrick had been right.
“Can we please just go now?” Mason said. “You’ve seen it.”
“How do you get money doing this?”
Mason sighed and ran his hand down his face. “I get a finder’s fee for new recruits. The better they are, the more money I get.”
“Where do you find women to bring here?”
“Bars. One night stands. I don’t know. Why does any of this matter? I haven’t done it since we’ve met.”
“And what about the guys you bring here to enjoy these girls you’ve trained? How do you make money doing that?”
Mason laughed. “My clients pay me to find them the hottest new places. And to make sure their identities are kept safe.”
“And your father pays you to take out his new hires?”
“No. I use his new hires as a way to find new clients. My dad doesn’t even know about it.”
“He doesn’t know about your sex ring?”
“It’s not a sex ring.”
“I don’t understand.” I sat down next to him, putting enough space between us so that we weren’t touching. “Why do you do it?”
Mason opened his mouth, but then closed it again. He leaned back in his seat. “Because I’m good at it.”
“Do you like it more than advertising?”
“It’s a hobby, not a career.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“It’s just a means to an end. You know I’m trying to start my own ad agency. I need the cash.”
“Why, because you’re not speaking to your parents?”
“I’m trying to make something of myself, Bee.”
“Here?”
“What do you want me to say? That I’m good at fucking? That I know when a girl would be good at this job depending on how skilled she is in bed? That I can tell how loose a woman is by talking to her for less than a minute?” He ran his hand through his hair. “I’m trying. I really am. I haven’t been here in weeks.”
“I didn’t ask you to not come.”
“You’re right. You didn’t.” He looked hurt.
