“There’s no way in hell I’m fucking a fat fifty-year-old man, Jeff,” Jean said, walking past Jeff and going into the small bedroom of his equally small apartment.
Jeff stormed into the bedroom behind her, holding his phone in his right hand.
He stared down at Jean as she sat on the bed, arms crossed over her chest and a determined look on her face.
“You’re not thinking, Jean.
This guy is stacked.
He works for a big firm.
You probably won’t even have to do much; he’ll be out two rounds tops.” “No,” Jean answered sharply, not even looking at him.
Jeff let out a loud exhale.
“Look, babe.
I know you don’t want to do this and trust me, I don’t want you doing it either—” “So why can’t I stop?” “Because we need the money, for fuck’s sake!” Jeff snapped, his voice rising.
It made Jean flinch, and he schooled his expression into calmness.
“I promise you, this is the last one.” “You said that the last time.” Exasperated, Jeff sat on the bed beside her and pulled her close, kissing the top of her head.
“Do you trust me?” Jean let out a small sigh.
“Yes.” She answered, her voice quiet.
“Then I promise, this is the last time.
After this, you won’t have to see anyone again.” “Okay.” He kissed her forehead before pulling away.
“That’s my girl.
Get dressed now.
You’re meeting at Club Vegas by eight.” * * * * * Jean scanned the club once more, for the umpteenth time, and still, no sign of Dave.
The club was nearly empty, but that was hardly surprising, seeing as today was the first day of a new week.
The club’s emptiness did not bother Jean very much; she wasn’t here for her usual business after all.
She knew, more than anybody, that hoping to catch some big fish in a club like this during the week was a waste of time.
You could only make it big on Friday and Saturday nights.
Jean didn’t want to be here, but Jeff had assured her that the man was rich and he would pay well.
He had also said that this would be the last time.
He had promised, just like he had the other fifteen times.
Not wanting to dress up for a person she would probably find repelling, Jean had put on a simple short black gown and flat sandals.
“Sup, J.” The man behind the counter said as Jean moved to the bar and took a stool.
“Good evening, Mark,” Jean answered, keeping her eyes glued to the entrance.
“The usual?” Mark asked, drawing her attention to him.
“Nope.
Nothing for me.” Jean said.
Getting drunk while waiting for somebody she had never met before would be unwise.
Mark looked at her for a while before turning his back on her and inspecting drinks in a cupboard.
It was always weird for Jean to come to this particular club, ever since that unfaithful day when Mark had led her to the back of the club and had told her that he liked her and wanted to date her.
Jean turned him down as kindly as she could, and told him she already had a boyfriend, but Mark was angry and asked if her boyfriend knew the dirty things she did at the club.
Jean had frozen at that.
Of course Jeff knew what she did; he was the one who put her to it, but she couldn’t tell Mark that.
It wasn’t any of his business.
But the way he had condemned her made her pause and think about her life.
Mark had quickly apologized after noticing the flash of hurt that crossed her face.
And to show how sincerely sorry he was, she never had to pay for her drink here; it was all on him.
One of the perks of this particular club, if she could overlook the awkwardness.
Jean looked back at the entrance, hoping that fifty-eight-year-old Dave would walk in, apologize for being late, and do what he needed to do.
He was already an hour late.
“Waiting for someone?” A voice said beside Jean, and she had to roll her eyes.
She had no interest in entertaining strangers tonight.
“Your finest drink for the lady, please.” The man said, most likely talking to Mark.
Jean still kept her eyes fixed on the door.
She hoped that if she ignored this man long enough, he would take the hint and go, but he did no such thing, as she could hear his breathing behind her.
She decided to tell him off.
“Look…” Jean’s words died on her lips as she turned to face the stranger.
“My God, you’re beautiful.” She said instead.