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“You can’t afford it,” Mitch said.
The man was slightly taken aback as if he had never met a woman as candid as Mitch before. “You did strike me as an expensive woman. I’m sure that means you’re quite… good at what you do.”
“I have my preferences.”
“Why don’t you tell me about them?” The man reached into his pocket and surreptitiously moved an object beneath the counter so only Mitch saw the police badge against his thigh. “Down at the station?”
She took another calm sip of her drink, savoring the martini that was supposed to help her start a relaxing night. Only one thing sifted through her mind as she realized she was once again pigeonholed by a cop.
Here we go again.When would she learn?
The nearest police station wasn’t as chaotic as she expected. Nor was Mitch thrown into handcuffs the moment she left the lounge with Det. Moran, a man who was not as gruff as some of the cops who had mistaken her for an escort. This was the second time in the past few years Mitch was brought into a police station for solicitation, and she couldn’t be less impressed.
The night was ruined, after all.
“Have a set, ‘Teresa.’ Which isn’t your name, of course.” Det. Moran gestured to a chair in his tiny office. The police station was nearly silent when he closed the door. Mitch hesitated, taking in the photos of Moran with the police captain and San Francisco’s mayor. While Mitch didn’t live in San Francisco proper, she was well-acquainted with the faces on the wall. “You’re Michelle Cruise, are you not?”
She glanced at him, her own name making the hairs on her neck stand on end. “You already knew my name when you sat down next to me, didn’t you? Are you searching for someone named Michelle Cruise? I’m not the only one in this city, you know. I get the other one’s mail sometimes.” The other Michelle Cruise of the Bay Area was a card-carrying member of the AARP. Surely, they couldn’t look alike.
“Have a seat, Ms. Cruise.”
Mitch was weak against an authoritative voice. She would have blamed her time in the Marines, but the truth was that she responded to it from the time she was a small child being bossed around by teachers. It was how she fell into a particular lifestyle once she was grown.
So Mitch tossed her coat over the back of a chair and sat. “Call me Mitch.” She pulled her wig off her head and placed it in her lap. The night was ruined. “It’s what everyone calls me when I’m not wearing this dress.” She snorted. “You’re not arresting me, are you? This is about something else. You tracked me down to bring me in for some off-the-record chat. Do I still get a phone call for that?” Nobody had taken her cell phone after rifling through her clutch for contraband, as if she could fit anything like that inthere.It was her phone, a credit card, and her ID. That was all she needed to get by – besides her wits.
“You’ll be allowed to go home soon enough,” the detective assured her. “Although… whatwereyou doing in that lounge? It’s a well-known pick-up spot for some rather unsavory – and highly illegal – activities.”
Mitch pulled off her clip-on earrings and shoved them into her clutch. “I know.”
“Where’s your partner?” The detective pretended to need to glance at a piece of paper to be reminded of her name. “Vanessa Richards. Is she the one you want to call?”
“I was supposed to meet her at the lounge, but she was late. So, thanks for that.”
“You weren’t together?”
“Women aren’t always attached at the hip, detective. Sometimes, she takes off the leash and lets me wander around town as I please.”
“Excuse me?”
“Figure of speech, of course.” Mitch slumped into the uncomfortable chair, her knees clamped together as she removed every ring but one from her hands. They soon joined her earrings in her clutch that was fit to burst with everything inside of it. Mitch removed her phone to make room. There were no notifications. In fact, she had no service inside the station, and she was sure that was no accident. “What do you want with me?”
That question was not soon answered. A commotion interrupted whatever Moran was about to say, and the man got up from his desk to open the door and discover an irate woman accompanied by a front-desk officer.
“Well, well…” Moran began.
“What’s going on in here?” As soon as Vanessa verbally smacked everyone in the room, Moran took a step back and the accompanying officer passed the buck to him. “Mitch. Are you all right? Have these thugs hurt you at all?”
Vanessa certainly didn’t expect her girlfriend to be distraught, did she? Well, she almostcertainlydidn’t expect the chortle choking Mitch’s throat, either.Has she ever said the word “thugs” in her life?It didn’t suit the vivacious woman in a black cocktail dress and with hair curly enough to make a poodle jealous. Vanessa was a vision, whether she wore her pajamas or the kind of party dresses that caught Mitch’s eye whenever the love of her life lit up a room.I love her more than I love being alive.That also extended to whose life Mitch valued more. It was Vanessa. It would always be Vanessa, the woman Mitch would die for.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Was about to hear from Det. Moran why I was brought in. Apparently, I’mnotbeing arrested for solicitation. The good detective led me to believe I was here to atone for my lecherous ways.”
“To be fair…” Moran provided Vanessa with her own chair while the officer from the front desk brought in bottled water for a rich and powerful guest. That was Vanessa’s pull whenever she revealed herself. The former recluse had come into her own as someone willing to make sacrifices for Mitch as well. They were soulmates, after all.The things we’ve been through together…Mitch rarely thought about them until she saw Vanessa standing so regally before her. Because Mitch would put herself into that terrible situation all over again. Forher.
Moran’s voice cut into her thoughts once more.
“There are more than enough rumors about you two to keep the whole of San Francisco on their toes. Ever since you two moved in, I’ve been getting calls about a lesbian couple who may or may not be engaging in certain vices.”
“Nothing illegal, I assure you, detective.” Vanessa leveled her gaze on a man who pulled more rank on her in the station, but in the courts? There wasn’t a judge in San Francisco County who couldn’t recuse themselves because she helped them make money through investments. “What we do in our private lives is none of your concern.”
