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Mitch did her best to not react.Fifty fucking percent…No wonder nobody ever paid off their debt, even when Mitch had a good idea how much Candace charged her clients. Was it even possible to pay off fifty percent interest at that rate?Are some of her older maids still her indentured servants because they never paid it off?How long had Candace been doing this?
“Some people are so ungrateful,” Mitch pretended to agree. “From what I noticed about that girl you gifted us over Christmas… Ma… Lily, was it?”
Thankfully, Candace didn’t catch that. “Yes. One of my best trainees at the moment.”
“She told me that she came up from Honduras with your help. Was in a really bad situation down there. She was so,sograteful for what you’ve been able to do for her. Guess you could say she’s a big reason I’m here right now.” At least that was partially true. “You’re an inspiration, Mistress.”
“You’re too sweet.”
“Can you at least tell me what inspired you to go into this line of work?” Mitch still couldn’t get Candace to outright say what she was doing, and it drove her half insane. “Did you inherit it? Or start it yourself?”
Candace grunted. “I inherited the means,” she picked up ice water, “but I did something with it.”
“How long have you been doing this?” Mitch had to push more. “Making people’s dreams come true?”
“Almost as long as you’ve been alive.”
Is that so?Mitch wasn’t even twenty years younger than Candace. Was she bartering flesh since she was in college? “That’s a long time.”
“Trust me, it’s not that long now.”
“How do you find out about these women? I mean, I can figure out where you find the clients, what with your amazing connections, but where do you find the willing women?”
Candace sipped her water with pursed lips. “I’ve built up networks over the years. One of the reasons I have this house is because Honolulu is a major nexus for desperate women.”
“Desperate?”
“Desperate for a ticket to something better. That’s what I provide them.”
Does she really believe this?What kind of sociopath had Mitch hitched herself to?
“See, that’s the reason I’m so invested in this. It’s the human element. I know how to make clients happy. You know I do, based on the great reviews I’ve garnered. Except it’s the girls I’m interested in. I think I could deliver great advice to help them make you even more money. And pay their debts off faster.” Mitch batted her eyes. “Make them grateful to you, Mistress.”
They reached an impasse, one woman analyzing the other while she held her breath. Who knew how convincing Mitch was? Maybe she had pushed it too far, and she would be lucky if Candace didn’t have their marriage annulled and Mitch tossed into a volcano.
“All right.” Candace rang a bell on the corner of the table. The maid, who must have had supersonic hearing to detect that over the roar of the ocean, walked out onto the balcony and received the request for Candace’s smoking stick. Until then, Mitch had no idea that her new Mistress smoked anything, let alone classic cigarettes. “I’ll tell you some details, Michelle. About the girls. Where they come from. Why they reach out to me for financial help.”
The maid was back before she had barely left. “I’m waiting with bated breath,” Mitch said, a cloud of smoke soon blowing past her face.
“Then when we’re done discussing this, we’ll go to bed. Get some rest. Save the excitement for when we return to San Francisco tomorrow.”
Thatwas something Mitch had not expected of her. “Emergency?”
“If you’re so keen to get started, why should I keep you? We need to have your things delivered from Vanessa’s, anyway. Might as well give you the chance to go through them while I have new clothes ordered for you. Once you have the lay of the land, I’m flying you to New York. I have an apartment in Manhattan and a connection to one of the clubs. That’s where the European girls fly in, and I have a couple arriving next week. We’ll get you started with them.”
Mitch had never been so close to getting what the FBI needed.One more day.Tomorrow, she’d have all the evidence in the world.
Candace’s exertion of control did not exist outside of herself. She was also a master of keeping her cool even when Mitch changed clothes or showered around her. Usually, Mitch was not perturbed to have anyone, let alone an older woman, see her so intimately. Yet this was Candace. She was liable to do anything, and she did not have a single care for anyone’s safety.
Except Mitch had a feeling that Candace would behave… for now.
She was up long before Mitch, who had food waiting for her by the bed when she forced herself to face the day. The first thing she did was check her phone, which she had buried in the bottom of her bag with the hopes that Candace wouldn’t take it. That phone was Mitch’s only lifeline to the outside world – and, specifically, the FBI.
Arrangements were made to fly back to San Francisco. Candace bemoaned that her original plans were to treat Mitch to the best that Hawaii had to offer, but Mitch never found out what that meant. They were too busy getting back in the car and heading straight to the tarmac at the airport, where Candace’s plane was fueled, staffed, and waiting.
“I didn’t take you as a woman perpetually glued to her phone.” Candace didn’t look up from the papers she held in her lounge chair near the back of the plane. Mitch didn’t have a choice. She tore her attention away from the screen she used to send encrypted texts, although she would have to stop the moment they were out of range for her cell service, anyway. Agent James had been adamant that Mitch not use any Wi-Fi Candace controlled. “Please don’t tell me that I’ve married a banal, self-absorbed idiot who is already posting my life on Instagram.”
“I don’t do social media,” Mitch truthfully said.
