Page 85 of Hired Help

“Why’d you go into sex work, then? If you were already making money.”

“Because you got sick, and the bills got higher, and nobody would give us a loan. Nowadays, you could go online and start a funding drive, but I didn’t know about things like that back then.”

He swipes the hair away from his face with short, stiff gestures, forehead creasing so deep it looks like someone’s slashed at him with a knife.

“If I hadn’t earned the extra, Gwyn wouldn’t have been able to stay up in Auckland with you. It was unbearable enough for me to remain down here, it would’ve destroyed her.”

A pinch of guilt hits. “So, it’s my fault.”

He gives an exasperated sigh. “Of course, not. I’m not assigning blame, just telling you what happened. It’s nobody’s fault. These were the cards we were dealt, and I thought…”

He breaks off, pinching at the bridge of his nose before spreading his fingers wider to rub at his eyes. When his hand drops away, there’s a shine to them that wasn’t there earlier.

“I thought I was doing the right thing.”

Mum hadn’t told me that. I knew I’d been ill, that I’d needed surgery as a baby, but the rest of it is new information.

When she explained, it sounded like something he got into because he already had sex with other women on the side and wanted to get paid for it. A lifestyle choice that he made with his own needs in mind, not caring what anyone else thought.

She never told me if he hadn’t, I would have been on my own. A scared baby having painful surgery while the parents I depended upon were stuck in another city.

But I cling to the familiar. “That was when I was less than a year old. You’re still doing it.”

“Because I find it easier. The stripping is more physically demanding, so I like to be able to oscillate between them. In less time than I spend in rehearsals, I can earn the same money or more by sucking a few cocks.” He shrugs. “Or having mine sucked.”

My gaze darts to his face, eyes widening. “You’regay?”

He stifles a laugh. “No, I’m not gay. I told you, it’s work. The gig is about my client’s pleasure, not my own.” When I continue to stare at him, he utters a long sigh. “The demand is there. Even when I only list for women, I get a steady stream of requests from men. If I didn’t accept some, I wouldn’t make rent.”

Comprehension clicks. Like a shift in my brain where all the odd slots and protrusions suddenly line up and slide into place. When he says work, he means it. “Why is it different with Brooke?”

“I don’t know.” He folds his arms and I unfold mine, rinsing out our plates in the sink. He must sense my frustration because he tries again. “I was attracted to her. She was… We like the same things. In bed and out of it.”

He stops talking but I wait, the answer nowhere near what I need from him, a realisation he must come to on his own because he inhales a deep breath, then continues.

“Right from the start, she didn’t feel like a client. That’s an enormous red flag but I couldn’t make myself stop seeing her. Part of it was not wanting to hurt her but mostly…” He tilts his head back, staring at the ceiling like it’s full of answers. “I thought it would be easier to fix the broken pieces when it was over than give up before we got started.”

His gaze meets mine, then flick away, darting around the room before coming to rest on the floor.

“I wanted her and by the time I worked out I shouldn’t, it was too late.”

“Too late.”

He zooms in on the dismissiveness. “There isn’t a rhyme or reason to it. I like her. I’ve liked her from the start.”

The worst thing is, I understand. She’s quick, funny, intelligent. I fell for her over a few quips in a classroom, following her around like an eager puppy, unable to move on even when I thought it was hopeless.

Of course, he likes her. There’s probably a joke in there about being genetically disposed to love Brooke but I’m wound too tightly to find it.

“You should’ve stopped seeing her the moment you knew.” I don’t need to tell him what, he already understands.

“I tried.”

“Not hard enough.”

He pushes away from the wall, coming closer, getting in my face and I want him to, I want to fight him so much. Even if he’ll probably win, I want to see how many blows I can deal before I can’t lift my fist to punch him again.

His voice is low and smooth and unrelenting. “You discarded her like she was nothing. If she wants to see someone else, I think that’s her call, don’t you?”

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