Page 3 of Lady and the Hitman
I’d leaned back in the booth, struggling to picture it. “Sounds like a lot of money for a glorified fantasy. What’s the price tag?”
“It’s not cheap,” Mina had admitted. “But it’s no more than a high-end matchmaker. And there’s only one match. One night. No strings. You don’t pay him. You pay the service.”
“And that’s somehow not prostitution?” I’d asked, brows raised.
“It’s not prostitution,” she’d said, sharper now. “You’re not buying sex. You’re submitting power. You’re asking for something most people are too scared to say out loud. And they don’t deliver men—they deliver obsession. For one night. That’s not sex work. That’s psychosexual immersion.”
I’d rolled my eyes, but something about the phrase “deliver obsession” had sent a shiver down my spine.
“It’s not transactional,” she’d added. “It’s personal. Deeply. Which is why it only works once. After that, it’s not a fantasy anymore.”
So I’d gone home, sat in front of my laptop, and typed it all out.
My shame. My need. My weakness, if that’s what you wanted to call it.
I want to feel like I said the wrong thing … and now he’s here to make me regret it.
It had been three days.
No confirmation. No reply.
Just silence.
And a part of me hoped that meant it was all bullshit.
But another part—deep, shameful, aching—kept glancing at the door every night. Waiting.
Wondering.
What if he actually came?
What if he knocked?
What if I opened it?
My phone rang.
I didn’t recognize the number at first—just an 843 area code, local to Charleston—but something about it made my stomach twist. I let it buzz twice before answering.
“Hello?”
There was a pause. Then a voice I hadn’t heard in over a year.
“Hey, Z. It’s me.”
My pulse stuttered. “Trevor?”
He gave a soft laugh, breathy and uncertain. “Yeah.I, uh … I wasn’t sure if this was still your number. Guess it is.”
Of course, it was. I’d had the same number since 2012. But I didn’t say that.
I didn’t say much at all.
“How have you been?” he asked.
I sat up straighter, tugging the sheets over my legs like he could see me. “Busy. Working.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen. Your name’s everywhere right now. You’re on fire.” He paused again. “I read the piece about the drone strike. You always were good at cutting straight to the bone.”
