Page 181 of Roberto

OrI really love Asians,which always made my skin crawl.

Or the worst of both worlds:You’re so beautiful… for an Asian.

Unfortunately, that was something I heard at least twice a month.

He hit me with something that wasn’t nearly that offensive – although itwasoffensive, and depressingly common.

“How much would it be to spend the evening with you?”

Which was a Westerner’s way of asking,How much do I have to pay to fuck you?

I kept a smile plastered on my face, although inwardly I was angry. And tired.

I wanted to say,I’m the manager of the club.

I’m not a streetwalker.

You can’t BUY me.

If you want that, go to the red-light district.

But I didn’t.

I did, however, allow myself atinylittle twist of the knife when I answered.

“You don’t have enough money to spend the evening with me, Mr. Rosolini.”

He looked shocked.

Then he got a look in his eyes – the look of a rich man who was accustomed to being able to buy whatever he wanted.

Whomeverhe wanted.

I recognized it in the eyes of the German I’d just thrown out.

“What about $10,000 per hour of your time?”

I knew he expected the amount to impress me –

Although he was thinking of US dollars.

In Hong Kong dollars, he’d only offered me $1300 US – the base rate for one hour with one of our newest, most inexperienced subs.

Still, $10,000 US an hour was impressive –

If it hadn’t been for the fact that his offer turned my stomach.

His entitlement –

His assumption that I could beboughtjust because I was in the club (a club Iranand part-owned) –

All I could do was scoff at him.

“No, thank you.”

Thatseemed to piss him off.

“I don’t understand – you said that you work here, did you not?”

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