by Nolon King
So now I stood in front of a new client’s door.
I knocked and waited. This part was always thrilling, and slightly scary. Those moments when everything was possible, and anything could go wrong.
The door swung open.
I fell a step backward, and nearly to the floor.
I couldn’t believe it. Almost rubbed my eyes like a cartoon character.
Ryan’s mouth was moving, but he wasn’t making any sounds either.
We stared at each other, both of us chewing on silence. Then he opened his mouth and I knew what he would say as he said it. I hurried up so we could say it together.
Natalie!
And then we laughed, even though neither one of us understood it just yet.
The suite was magnificent, no surprise there. The shock was standing a few feet away from the first man to ever fall asleep inside me, the first to ever kiss me in the rain or promise forever, the first — and last — to ever break my heart.
I’d never stopped loving Ryan, despite the fact that he’d cheated on me.
“I didn’t know that you …” He didn’t finish, eating me up with his eyes. I was wearing something that clearly said, I’m ready for you to undress me.
“Natalie didn’t tell you I got her started?”
“I mean, I knew that, but I didn’t know about … this.” Ryan laughed, his arms casually crossed, shaking his head in disbelief or better. “It’s been a long time, Liv.”
He was still as handsome as ever. Trim waistline and square jaw. Dark eyes that had always managed to bore through me. His jacket fell neatly enough on his shoulders to pass for a shadow. Even his tie was knotted to perfection.
“That wasn’t my choice.” Tears pooled in my eyes.
“I’m so sorry for what I put you through. I was an idiot.” Ryan shook his head. “I didn’t see what I had in front of me and I blew it.”
“I thought you loved Natalie?” That had been the worst part, the thought that he could stop loving me so easily.
“Natalie and I were always friends. And I love our children. But I married her because she was pregnant. Even though …”
“Even though what?”
“Even though I was still in love with you.”
I tried not to feel it, the thing that was slithering under my skin and taking control of my body.
The emotion that had been an echo, ripping through my soul with diminishing intensity for the last dozen years.
I was screaming in my mind: Stop it, Olivia! You’re not allowed to fall in love with him again. That’s the last thing you want to do!
“And I definitely don’t regret any of it,” he continued, “if it means I’m here with you right now.”
“So then, what is this? I don’t understand. You’re my … client?” I laughed uncomfortably, hating the part of me that wanted him to say no. But he didn’t, so I added, “That’s a little weird, even for me.”
“I’m thinking that it could be a new beginning, if you can forgive me?”
Could I?
I flashed him a wicked grin as I grabbed his tie and led him toward the bedroom.
“Let’s find out.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Three Months Later …
NATALIE
I was in my office at Blush, if that’s what you could call it.
It was a lot more like a lush suite, and except for the front area, which did have a tidy desk and two chairs, the space didn’t remotely resemble a place of business.
First off, Blush was run from a mansion rather than an office building. Because this particular operation wouldn’t be popular with the neighbors and because privacy would be one of the chief ingredients in our five-star dish, we had acres of empty land to surround us. Our girls would hold their affairs outside the home, of course, but the estate had an embarrassing number of rooms in its twenty thousand or so square feet. The rooms were themed, from posh to preposterous.
My office wasn’t in the main house. It was in one of the several small structures off to the side, overlooking the pool. I loved it.
Working with the other women had been my favorite part so far. We had twenty-nine to start, with varying interests and availability. We were developing profiles. Each girl would spend three months with us before taking their first client.
Blush wasn’t just a luxury brothel nestled in the hills. It was a game changer, even if it took twenty years. The Shellys were patient, and to hear them tell it, they had all the time in the world. A large part of their mission was to change America’s hypocritical attitude about sex.
More than forty million regularly visit sites and more than thirty-five percent of all Internet downloads are related to porn — but we refuse to legitimize the industry and pass laws that would improve the lives of porn stars.
Millions more pay for sex on a regular basis — but instead of decriminalizing prostitution and regulating it for the protection of both sex workers and their clients, we allow human traffickers and other predators to make sex work the most dangerous profession in the world.
Yet we’re steeped in sexual imagery, using it to sell everything from clothes to cars.
And we eat up television shows whose directors seem determined to cram as many naked bodies as possible into each episode, mothers of dragons and tween assassins notwithstanding.
We’re raised to be ashamed of our natural desires, taught to hide them from the world. Then society uses that shame to control us.
We’re lying to ourselves as a culture, and that can be fixed.
Decriminalization is a good start, but it’s not enough. The Shellys wanted to build an entertainment empire with a sex-positive spin, and Blush was a part of that.
As I logged off my laptop, I thought again about the women’s studies class Olivia and I had taken in college, how we’d been just like everyone else, looking down on the women of the past we’d been studying who’d resorted to a sexual economy because their society prohibited them from participating in the larger one.
How we’d assured ourselves that we would’ve made a different choice, if we’d been in the same situation.
Ironic, isn’t it?
Just like it’s ironic that telling Ryan the truth about hiring myself out bled out all the hatred we’d been feeling for one another.
Because we’d been lying to ourselves about our marriage, about who we were and what we wanted from each other.
We’d lived according to that old saying: Ask me no questions, I’ll tell you no lies.
But the truth had set us free.
And I intend to stay free for the rest of my life.
What to Read Next…
REVENGE IS SERVED
Twelve people bound by a secret arrive for an exclusive dinner only to find that the other guests are familiar in the most troubling of ways.
Get your copy of Pretty Killer Here
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Nolon King
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About the Author
Nolon King writes fast-paced psychological thrillers set in the glitzy world of entertainment’s power players with a bold, insightful voice. He’s not afraid to explore the darker side of human nature through stories featuring families torn apart by secrets and lies.
Nolon loves to write about big questions and moral quandaries. How far would you go to cover up an honest mistake? Would you destroy your career to protect your family? How much of your soul would you sell to get the life of your dreams? Would you cheat on y
our husband to keep your children safe? Would you give in to a stalker's demands to save your marriage?