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I don’t believe there’s a conspiracy, some group of crazed chauvinists keeping womankind down, but goddamn, sometimes it sure feels that way.
I think about the loophole crimes committed every day on Wall Street and in the government itself, the white-collar criminals, the crooked politicians, and the bad cops, and it makes me mad. It makes me so mad to think that something as simple as sexual pleasure—a basic human biologicalneed—is scorned as sinful. Youcan shoot porn and put it online for anyone to watch, perverts included, and it’s ‘acting’. You can meet a man at a bar and go home with him and it's a one-night stand. Try and make a profit off of him and they slap you with a fine and permanent labels, box you withsolicitingandengaging, and throw you in county for six months.
And people like Aiden Flint are the ones who put us there.
I’d do well to remember that.
By the time I make my way back to the table, Lyla has joined the group. The girls are sitting down, chatting and laughing. For a moment I just stand a few feet away and look at them. I think about where they’re all from and what they’ve been through. And all that rises in me is pride.
“Kitty Cat, you ready?” Toni looks over her shoulder at me.
“Yes,” I say, blinking rapidly.
She doesn’t ask me what’s wrong. She smiles as if she knows.
I take my seat again, this time next to Lyla. She’s wearing a short, denim skirt, a crop top, and her favorite leather cowgirl boots that have tiny white and yellow daisies embroidered on them. “Damn, Lyla. Where are you going?”
“Nowhere.”
“She just got back from Rye’s,” Jules explains and lifts her eyebrows suggestively.
“Speaking of which,” Toni cuts off my reply. She takes her time rifling through the papers in front of her. “Rye Chery just paid me, in full—cash—for four days of your time.” She pronounces his last nameSherie.
The entire table is silent. Lyla gawks, her mouth unhinged.
It’s Juliette who asks, “Whatfor? That’s gotta be half a million dollars.”
“I gave him a per-day rate. For Lyla.”
“I wish you hadn’t done that,” Lyla whispers, her face drawn, worried.
Toni just flips to the next page of her stack. Without looking up, she replies, “It’s time, Baby Doll.”
Time for what?I want to ask.
After a long moment, Lyla nods, but I can see that she’s unsure.
“You have tonight off to pack. So, I’ve put you on Home Duty too.”
“I leave tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
I’m still trying to figure out why Lyla seems so sad; isn’t this what she’s always wanted? She and Rye go back almost fifteen years. And, as far as I know, she’s been in love with him for about as long.
“Juliette, you have a Repeat.”
“Who?”
“Dylan Duke.”
“What?”
Toni ignores me. Looking across the table at Jules, she asks, “Can you handle it?”
Juliette doesn’t hesitate. “Yes.” Her tone is confident. But there’s a gleam of doubt in her eye that I don’t like.
