“Perfect for what?”

Before she could reply, the door opened and Leah walked in. She eyed the girl from head to toe, rolling her eyes as she turned to me. “Hey, are you okay? I came to check on you.”

I smiled. “Yeah, I’m fine. I was just coming out.” I smiled tightly at the mysterious girl.

I wanted to hand her my card because the way she talked about this Mr. Martinez guy had me intrigued. Maybe he recruited for another escort service, but I wanted to find out. Instead, I walked past her because I didn’t want Leah to see my interest and made my way back to the table where we sat and watched topless women dance. The dancers couldn’t be fully nude in Vegas if the establishment served alcohol.

“Who’s Mr. Martinez?” I asked Leah and Nina as we scanned the floor.

Their eyes widened as they looked at each other and then they both answered in unison. “No one.”

“What do you mean no one? Obviously he’s someone.”

“You don’t want to get involved with him,” Leah avowed.

“The girl …” I paused, realizing I never got her name. “The girl I met in the bathroom said I would be perfect for him.”

“He’s not a client,” Nina said curtly.

I took a sip of my drink. “What is he?” I already knew he wasn’t someone who paid for escorts, but I wanted to know who he was.

“Look, Andi,” Leah begged, “just trust us. S&R is a good company to work for. Stick with them, okay? You don’t want to get mixed up with Martinez and his crew.”

I decided not to press her further on the subject tonight, but I was going to find out who this guy was. I’d do my own research in the FBI database if I had to.

“See anyone worth approaching?” Nina asked a few minutes later.

“How do I know?”

“Who’s giving out the most money?”

I scanned the room. This was an upscale strip club. There were no three dollar cheeseburgers with two dollar shots, and no creepy dudes sitting in the front row in plain white T-shirts that only stared at the dancers and didn’t give them any money. No, this place had decent looking guys giving a few dollars at a time.

I spotted a guy who kept looking over at our table. He was dressed in a suit, maybe in his early to mid-forties, and was sipping on a beer. If he was willing to give money to a dancer, then maybe he was willing to have a date with me—it was worth a shot.

“All right. I’m going in.”

I took a final sip of my drink, stood and made my way to where he was sitting and took the chair next to him. He turned and smiled.

“Hi.” I smiled back.

“Hi.”

“Which girl is your favorite?”

He scanned the room and then his gaze landed on mine. “You.”

I chuckled. “I’m not a dancer.”

“No, but I bet you look good topless.”

I held my tongue and kept flirting. “I don’t go around flashing them.”

“Is that right? What do I have to do see them?” He turned his chair a little toward me.

“First you can start by buying me a drink.” Before I could finish asking for one, a cocktail waitress placed it on the bar that wrapped around the mini stage. “Okay. I see how you work.”

“Now what?”

I thought quickly as I took a sip of my margarita. “Are you from here?”

“On business.”

“So you come here while your wife is at home with the kids.”

He smiled and took a pull of his beer. “Something like that.”

“Besides strip clubs, what else do you like to do in Vegas?”

“I like to try my luck at craps.”

I took another sip of my drink, trying to sip as much as I could so I could leave. “I’m new in town and have only been to the strip once and that was only for dinner and dancing. I haven’t been on the casino floor yet.”

“I’ll need to take you then.”

I reached inside my purse and grabbed my card then handed it to him. “I’d love that. Here’s my card.”

“Andi … Andi with an I.” He smiled.

“And you are?”

“Derrick.”

“Thank you for the drink, Derrick.” I tipped the drink toward him and stood. “Contact me if you want company at the craps tables.”

“I will Andi with an I.”

Approaching a potential client on my own wasn’t that bad after all.

Chapter Twelve

Paul

Finally, it was Saturday night.

It felt as if I were still in high school—except in high school I’d had more confidence. Usually, I had a date on Saturdays with clients, but I’d made sure to have the day off. I wasn’t worried about the money I’d miss out on—I was going to be with the most beautiful woman in Vegas. It was worth it.

All week it was hard to see Andi. It was almost as if we were dating, but we weren’t. Every time I saw her, I wanted to just … kiss her. If we were dating, I could wrap her in my arms and kiss her whenever I wanted, but we weren’t so I couldn’t. I had to be a perfect gentleman when I saw her.

During the week I’d had to leave a few times to go on a couple of dates, which felt awkward, but I hadn’t had sex with any of the clients I went on dates with. It wasn’t as if I could get “in trouble” for not having sex with clients. We weren’t hired to sleep with them. We were hired for dates—companionship. If things led to sex, then they led to sex. I, however, had my eye on my new roommate and I didn’t want anyone else, so at the end of the date, I’d tell them I had a nice time and call it a night. I didn’t even care if they re-booked anymore. Each time I thought about forgetting the escort thing. I didn’t need it anymore. I had my new business with Gabe and Autumn and I was happy doing it. Happier. I felt alive now that Gabe and I were shooting again and teaching women how to defend themselves.

When I became an escort, it was my way to forget about Vanessa, but I no longer needed to forget about her and what she’d done. I was ready to move on. Even if Andi and I just went out for the night, it was a step in the right direction.

While Andi got ready in her room, I showered then changed into a pair of dark denim jeans and a black button-down shirt. After combing my hair back, I rolled up my long sleeves and went out to the living room where I waited for her to be ready. When she came out, I wanted to tell her how good she looked in her tight jeans and sparkly top. How good she smelled as she stepped closer to me. How fucking perfect she was.

But I had a plan.

“I’ll pick you up at seven.” I grabbed my keys, my wallet, and my cell phone and started to walk toward the garage.

“Um, it’s 6:55 now.”

“Seven o’clock, gorgeous.” I closed the door to the house from the garage before she could respond. After starting up my Jeep, I backed it out of the garage, drove around the block and stopped in front of our house so I could pick her up for a proper date.

At seven o’clock sharp I stepped out of the Jeep and walked to the front door. I knocked and waited for Andi to open the door. She smiled brightly when she answered it.

“Damn,” I said, dragging out the word. “Gorgeous, you’re stunning.”

She looked down at herself and then back up to my eyes. “Thank you.”

I reached out my hand. “Ready?”

“Is it seven?”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “You’re lucky I love your feisty mouth.” She blushed and grabbed my hand. “You’re cute when you blush.”

“Let’s go, Paul,” she groaned and I laughed. This was going to be fun and I couldn’t wait.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Andi asked, breaking the silence. We’d barely driven out of our neighborhood.

“How do you feel about heights?”

Her eyes became huge. “Seriously?” I nodded and returned my gaze to the road. “What if I say I don’t like them?”

I shrugged and glanced at her. “Too bad.”

“Paul!”

“Are you scared of them?” I chuckled.