Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
His expression shifts only the tiniest bit, but Weaver is a master of the stone face. That twitch around his eyes was the equivalent of a jaw drop from anyone else.
I hurry to assure him, “I’ve thought about this, I promise. I know what I’m asking.” The wine makes the words tumble out faster. “I’m twenty-four years old, with no prospects on the horizon, and I’m dying to know what I’m missing. But I can’t find out here. Everyone knows everyone, and everyone thinks I’m a boring little mouse with the sex vibe of a bag of animal crackers.”
“Animal crackers?” he echoes dryly. “I doubt that. You’re an attractive young woman, Maya. Not to mention kind and a wonderful friend.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes, the way I do every time some well-meaning member of my family says the same sort of thing. “Thank you, but no one around here shares your opinion, and I’m too much of a scaredy cat to try to pick up a stranger in Boston or New York City or anywhere else. Men are dangerous, Weaver. I’ve listened to all the murder podcasts. I know the statistics. In the U.S., men are the leading killer of women under the age of forty-four. Killer, Weaver. I could be killed trying to find a boyfriend or by my boyfriend if he turns out to be as awful as my sister’s ex-husband. And I’m not ready to roll the dice on that. I just want to satisfy my curiosity with someone professional and…safe.”
A darkness moves behind his eyes, but I know I’m not the thing that’s made him angry. “I’m sorry you have to consider things like that when looking for a partner. Men should be fucking better.”
“I know, but a lot of them aren’t, so…” I trail off with a shrug. “So maybe it’s not totally crazy to do something like this?” I glance toward the front room, ensuring we’re still alone before adding in a soft hiss, “Even though it’s technically illegal, and I guess I could go to jail if I get caught?”
“I’m sure the police have better things to do than prosecute a young woman looking for a safe way to engage with a man on her own terms,” he says, sending a flutter of hope through my chest even though he still looks decidedly less-than-thrilled by our conversation. “Does Sully know about this plan?"
“No.” I shake my head. “Like I said, I wasn’t supposed to tell you that I knew about the club or your friend. And I don’t want her to know. I don’t really want you to know, either, but you’re the only person who might be able to connect me with this woman so…”
He sighs as he runs a hand through his hair. “I’m probably going to regret this, but…all right. I’ll set up a meeting.”
I bite my lip and stand up straighter. “Really? You will?”
“I will. When are you available?”
“Christmas Eve through New Year’s Day,” I say, hurrying on at his surprised look. “It’s the only time I can get away from the rental business. I’ll be in New York City for the entire week. I told my mom I’m cat sitting for a friend of Sydney’s. She wasn’t happy about me missing the holidays with the family, but she knows how much I love cats. And I told her I’d take Pudge with me so she wouldn’t have to cat-sit my cat while I was cat sitting someone else’s cat so…”
He sighs again. “All right. Fine. I’ll make a call and text you the details.”
I set my wine on the island, threading my fingers together in a single grateful fist. “Oh, thank you, Weaver. Thank you so much. You won’t regret it, I promise.”
Now…
But will I regret it, I wonder as the office door opens, startling me out of the memory and banishing worries about how Pudge, my orange tabby, is doing back at the hotel with the clanging pipes.
Twyla Kincaid ambles in, the picture of leonine grace in a perfectly tailored beige suit. Her golden hair falls in shiny waves down to the middle of her back and her makeup is applied with a light touch that leaves her looking natural and effortlessly pulled together.
She’s nothing like what I expected, either.
She looks more like the CEO of a luxury brand than a madam.
She studies me for a moment before offering a crooked grin. “Well, well, I wasn’t sure you’d show, Weaver’s friend. But you did. I’m proud of you. It isn’t easy, taking your destiny into your own hands as a woman, especially when you’re only twenty-three.”
“Twenty-four,” I wheeze, having trouble drawing a full breath. “And my name is Maya.”
Twyla’s smile widens and her hazel eyes dance. “Twenty-four. Wonderful. Twenty-four is the perfect age for a woman to realize she’s the only one who’s going to make her dreams come true.” She clasps her hands together. “Now, let's see what we can do to take care of you, Maya. Tell me exactly what you’re looking for. I want to know all your hopes, dreams, and fantasies. Don’t hold anything back and don’t be embarrassed. This is a safe space, and I promise you, I’ve heard it all before.”