Page 70 of Rules Of Engagement: St. Louis
My phone buzzed against the bench where I’d left my purse. I glanced at the screen, expecting Journey or Frankie checking in about lunch plans.
Instead, it was Tamara, probably checking in to make sure I was good.
“Hey, Tamara. I am back in the city in case you were wondering.”
“Ms. Blackford, I’m sorry to bother you, but we have a situation with Christina. She’s pretty shaken up, and I think you need to know what happened.”
Christina was one of my newest girls, twenty-four years old and still learning the rules of this business. “What kind of situation?”
“She had a client Saturday night while you were away. Clarence Sinclair. He...”Tamara’s voice wavered. “He tried to get her to go back to his hotel room after the dinner event. When she reminded him, she was hired only for the business dinner, he got aggressive. Started grabbing at her, trying to kiss her, saying he’d paid good money.”
Heat flooded my veins as the protective fury ripped through me. “Is she hurt?”
“Not physically. She managed to get away and called hotel security. But she’s pretty traumatized. She’s been crying on and off since she got here.”
“Where is she now?”
“In your office. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“You did right. I’m on my way.”
I ended the call, my hands shaking with rage as I started unzipping the dress. Clarence Sinclair. I knew that name, remembered his application, and his references. He was a married investment banker with a clean background and always paid promptly. But obviously, money and respectability meant nothing when it came to his character.
The sales associate knocked. “How’s the fit?”
“Excellent. I’ll take it.”I was already reaching for my jeans, my mind spinning with everything I needed to do. “Can you have it sent to my office?”
“Of course! And the shoes we discussed?”
“Send those too.”
I was dressed and out of the fitting room in under two minutes with my credit card in hand. The associate processed the sale while I mentally prepared for damage control. First, Christina, then Clarence Sinclair, then whatever legal steps I needed to take to make sure this never happened again.
“Thank you so much for choosing us,”the associate bubbled as I signed the receipt. “You’re going to look absolutely stunning.”
“Thank you,” I said, walking away.
My mind was no longer on the gala. One of my girls was hurting, and that took priority over everything else.
Traffic was light for a Monday afternoon, but the drive seemed as if it took forever. I kept thinking about Christina’s face when I’d hired her, hopeful and determined, maybe a little naïve, but we all were at one point in life.
The truth was, this business attracted predators. Some men thought paying for a woman’s time meant owning her completely. They didn’t believe the rules applied to them, especially when they had money and power.
Men like Clarence Sinclair. I tried to flush these men out, and usually I did. But every once in a while, one would slip in. Next on my list was absolutely banning married men from applying. If they were dishonest in their marriage, the likelihood of them becoming a problem for my girls was high, and honestly, Ishould’ve gone with my gut when I decided earlier on to let them apply and see how it worked out. So much for that.
I parked in the garage and took the elevator to my floor, my heels clicking sharply against the marble as I strode through the reception area. Tamara looked up from her desk and relief flooded her face.
“She’s still in your office. I made her some tea, but she hasn’t touched it.”
“Thank you. Hold my calls.”
I knocked softly on my own office door before entering. Christina sat curled in one of my leather chairs with her knees drawn up to her chest, and a tissue box empty on the side table beside her. When she looked up, her eyes were red and swollen.
“Christina, honey.”I moved to her immediately, kneeling beside the chair. “I’m so sorry this happened to you.”
Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. “I did everything right, Ms. Blackford. I followed all the rules we talked about. I was clear about my boundaries from the beginning.”
“I know you did. This is not your fault.”
