you think is the item most sold in Monaco?’ he asks quite suddenly.
‘What?’
‘A change in the topic of conversation,’ he answers airily.
‘I don’t know.’ Truly, I don’t. At work, hundreds of thousands of dollars run through my fingers on any given week, at least figuratively, as I purchase trinkets and experiences. Or time, as the concierge bible goes. But surely this isn’t indicative of the whole of Monaco? Just then, an older man swaggers past the velvet entry ropes; you know the type, a balding head, a sizeable paunch, looks like he has a mohair sweater growing out of the neck of his shirt. But this troll, pardon, man has a beautiful woman tucked under each of his arms. Women young enough to be his daughters, though fathers don’t, as a rule, feel their daughter’s asses.
‘Viagra,’ I answer impulsively, my attention caught by Benoît’s soft chuckle. ‘Am I right?’
‘A good guess. Should we find a pharmacist to ask?’
‘If you don’t know, why ask the question?’
‘Oh, I know what the answer is.’ He sits forward quite suddenly, taking my hand. I try to pull away, but his fingers tighten, his other hand coming to cover it. To those looking on, it must look like a tender moment, not one where his grip is almost punishing. ‘The answer is sex. Sex is the commodity traded most here.’
‘I’m not sure why you’re looking at me like that. I’m not for sale.’
‘Oh, I think you are, though perhaps your rates have risen now that you no longer work at the Pink Pussy Cat.’ My stomach sinks at the utterance, a sudden flash of strobe lighting turning his features demonic. ‘I might not have found you, but I found your file. I also discovered that when you noted you had worked for Highland Holdings, you were actually working at a strip club.’
‘Gentleman’s club,’ I find myself countering ridiculously.
‘There are no gentlemen in a place like that.’
‘Something you’d know all about?’ As his fingers tighten, I try not to wince.
‘Clever of you to name the company rather than the name of the place.’
‘So you found my resumé.’ I’m almost surprised my voice sounds so normal because inside, I’m quaking. I haven’t lied on my resumé. Not exactly. Anyone who cared to dig a little would’ve found what he has. ‘I worked as a waitress. I served drinks. I don’t see how that’s the same as selling sex.’
‘While dressed as a schoolgirl, you sold watered down, overpriced drinks to men who wanted to fuck you. Such moral high ground,’ he taunts. ‘But I do wonder if that’s the only thing you sold.’
I find myself leaning forward, peeling his fingers from mine. ‘Fuck you.’
‘I thought we’d already established I’d like to. Just name your price.’
‘Fuck you and the deaf, dumb, and blind horse you rode in on. If you don’t let go of my hand—’
‘You’ll what? Cause a scene? Go ahead. I think my reputation can survive it.’
‘I’m sorry to interrupt.’ Fee’s voice is like sweet relief. It seems his reputation might survive a run-in with me, but not in front of another of Wolf Industries employees, and that fact would be kind of interesting if I could gather my thoughts. But I can’t right now. I’m too shaken up.
That’s kind of interesting. ‘Rose, our cab is here.’ She turns to Ben almost apologetically. ‘It was pre-ordered. You see I have a spinning class at some ungodly hour in the morning, and Rose is helping me.’
‘Well, I guess we’d better get going.’ As I stand, I find I can pull my hand from his now. I don’t spare him a glance as I tuck my arm into Fee’s as we hurry to our phantom cab.
24
Remy
Are you joining me for lunch?
Monday, eleven in the morning, and I’ve yet to hear from Rose. It’s not a huge concern but rather an irritating niggle, especially as it’s become our usual manner to have exchanged at least a couple of texts by nine. It should seem a little hypocritical to be suspicious, considering I’m the one keeping secrets, but nevertheless, there it is.
When I don’t receive a response, suspicion turns to concern, concern that I brush aside as I decide if anything untoward has happened, I’d already know. Whether I think I’d know instinctually or from the position as her boss, I don’t care to examine as I pull up the Wolf Tower concierge app on my phone and place a request. Or rather, an order. An order that’s denied immediately.