I need to tread carefully in this situation to avoid legal repercussions. A single wrong word could land me in a very sticky spot. “I’m only interested in hearing about your business.”
“How about I show you instead? Performing is my specialty.” She scoots to the edge of her seat. The suggestion hangs in a putrid cloud between us.
I slice a palm through the air. “That’s enough.”
Chanda’s entire demeanor flips on a sharp axis. Gone are the overt and lewd mannerisms. Now she slouches against the chair with a huff, appearing bored. “Listen, buddy. I don’t mean to prematurely burst your roleplay bubble, but this is getting weird for me. Can we just fuck and be done with this?”
A whoosh steals all other sounds in the room as her purpose is made clear. Every part of my body locks up, flexing against the unwanted onslaught. It’s not my intention to give this chick a reaction, but certain circumstances can’t be controlled. This is most definitely one of them.
“There’s been a misunderstanding.” Keeping my voice tempered takes Herculean strength.
The woman’s face puckers tighter than a virgin asshole. “I don’t believe so. The lady who set this up gave me very specific instructions.”
Pieces notch together in my mind with a hollow clank. “I bet she did. Your services won’t be needed.”
“No refunds.” Her tone is frigid, matching the ice glittering from her eyes.
My chuckle pangs off the tension crackling around the room. “How shocking.”
She sticks her nose up in order to look down on me. “It’s not my fault you’re a stiff.”
For a brief moment, I wonder if she’s related to Vannah. They’re cut from the same snarky cloth. “Insults are entirely unnecessary. We’re both victims of this scam.”
It’s her turn to laugh. “Yeah, sure. Whatever you wanna believe, big boss.”
A snarl rumbles in my chest. I get to stew in humiliation. She gets to walk away with a paycheck regardless of my rejection. “You need to vacate the premises immediately.”
“With pleasure.” She slams my door on her way out.
“Good riddance,” I mutter to the dust cloud she left behind.
The incomplete checkpoints from my morning rundown mock me, but that list is already fading into the background. Dealing with the instigator takes precedence. I consider sending an email, but HR would have a field day combing through this conversation. The last thing I want is the board catching wind of this. They don’t need more evidence against me.
I snag my phone and scroll to Vannah’s number, punching at the screen hard enough to crack the glass.
Me: You hired a hooker!!!
The two additional exclamation marks might be overkill, but I want my point to come across. The phone creaks in my palm as I wait for her response.
Savannah: ???
Me: YOU SENT A PROSTITUTE TO MY OFFICE!
If that doesn’t get my fury across, I’m not sure what will.
Savannah: No, I didn’t.
Me: Don’t fuck with me, Savannah.
Savannah: I wouldn’t dare.
Me: The fuck you wouldn’t.
Savannah: Someone sure put you in a foul mood.
Me: Does the name Chanda Leer ring a bell?
Savannah: As in a fancy lamp?
I hang my head as shame washes over me. This was a setup from the instant that woman contacted me yesterday.
Me: She told me a lady sent her with specific instructions, which included some resistance roleplay.
Savannah: Sounds kinky.
When her most recent quip comes through, I’m aiming to chuck my phone at the wall. I have rules against fucking the same woman more than once. Savannah Simons has already fucked me twice without removing a single article of clothing—or touching me, for that matter. That fact would impress me if my veins weren’t currently being pumped full of molten rage. She can try beating me at my own game, but I refuse to be defeated. This only solidifies my resolve to screw her over harder.
This superficial contact isn’t direct enough for my unraveling state. I swipe over and hit dial, tapping my foot to an erratic beat while the connection is made. It rings twice before she accepts.
“Hello, Lannie.” The laughter in her voice is more potent than gasoline on an already raging fire.
“What the fuck is your problem?” The seethe bellows from my throat, clawing its way out from the very depths of me. I’m not in my finest form at the moment, but she deserves this wrath.
Vannah whistles long and low. “That’s a loaded question. You’re at the root of it all, though.”
“Are you actually trying to lose your job?” I can’t just let this go. Retaliation will taste sweet