Page 12 of The Wages of Sin

I whispered the last word, almost afraid that saying it any louder might make it true.

The client, though, didn’t appear the least bit phased. “I take it that’s another one of Jane’s rules.”

“A big one—absolutely no physical contact,” I informed him before mustering up all of my courage. “And just to be clear, that’s not something that I’m interested in.”

“Physical contact?”

Damn, did his voice have to be so rumbly that it shook straight through me?

“Sex work,” I clarified. “So if that’s what you’re hoping for, you’ll need to contact a different kind of service.”

“I’m not looking for a whore.”

“Good. Can you make sure my boss knows that?”

“No need. Jane isn’t going to fire you.” He sounded confident. “She knows better than to risk upsetting me like that.”

Well, that sounded…intense.

What kind of mess had I stumbled into this time? It wasn’t like my other Tuesday clients were Boy Scouts. No doubt they were dangerous criminals as well, but all it took was one phone call from this man, and Jane had been willing to risk upsetting them.

Who the hell was this guy?

No—nevermind. The more we talked, the more I really didn’t want to know.

All I wanted to do was finish the job, go home, and not think about what happened here for another week.

Good luck with that, the little voice in my head said.

“Then I…I should get back to work,” I said, dipping my head down.

“Stop,” he said before my gaze returned to the floor, his tone firm but not angry. Still, the force of his voice startled me so much that I snapped my face back up again. “I understand Jane is your boss, but this is my house, and here you follow my rules.”

“What rules are those?” I asked, already bracing myself for the worst.

“I don’t want to feel like there’s a terrified mouse skittering around, so keep your head up. If you want to look at me, then look at me. If you want to talk, then talk. If you get tired, take a break. Understand?”

My mouth felt dry. My heart was hammering.

What the hell was happening?

“Y-Yeah. I understand.”

“Good,” he said, giving a nod so slight it was barely perceivable. “Then, if you need me, I’ll be in the front room.”

I couldn’t do anything but stare after him as he turned and walked away. I can’t say how long I stood there, slack-jawed and baffled. I only broke free of the shock when the old-fashioned crackle and pop of a vinyl record started playing on the speakers, followed by the opening strains of La Boheme.

A Puccini-loving thug?

Sure. Why not? It wasn’t stranger than anything else that had happened this morning.

I shook my head to clear it before spraying down the island countertop one more time.

Questions and curiosity were what got people like me in trouble in moments like this…and God knew I’d already had enough trouble to last a lifetime.

Besides, I had work to do.

Chapter Five

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