Selling Satisfaction (7 page)

With narrowed eyes, I make sure to tell him, "You're not doing this again."

"What?"

"Tricking me into another date."

"Who is tricking who?"

I
did
trick him by bringing him to this insanely expensive restaurant. "Yeah, oops... But seriously, no dates."

"Then it won't be a date."

"Maybe we should have some rules then."

"Rules?" He chuckles. "For what?"

I feel ridiculous the moment I mention having rules, but I do think it's a good idea. Smart idea at that. That way there isn't any line crossing. If we continue hanging out so carelessly and enjoying each other’s company, we're going to get too comfortable with one another, and lines will certainly become blurred. It's for my own protection- and his. He doesn't realize who I am, what I came from, what I've become. He won't be okay with what I do for a living. Most importantly, I do
not
want anything with him- more than companionship that is. We're good exactly where we are.

"For this. For hanging out," I explain. "Like... no hanging out more than once a week. No swapping phone numbers, so we don't text. No social media stalking, so we're not tempted by anything. We see each other when we see each other, we don't ask too many questions about one another. We're simply... acquaintances that hang out no more than once a week. Deal?"

The waitress brings us the receipt for Everett to sign along with the takeout boxes, interrupting everything happening. Everett pulls the receipt from the black folder, signing it quickly and leaving a tip larger than I had expected, then again our meal was over seventy dollars for the two of us. "Do you want half?" I ask, offering to pay at least part of my portion.

He looks up at me, none too impressed that I offered. "Friend or not, I'm not allowing a woman to pay for dinner, especially when I'm the one that asked for her company. Call me old school or what have you, but you'll never be expected to pay for meals when we're hanging out."

It almost makes me want to throw money at him, begging him to let me pay half so I don't feel like this is more than what it is, but I accept his generosity. "Well, then, thank you. For dinner."

"Thank you for accepting," he adds in. "Now about these rules." We both scrape our plates into the boxes we're given while he speaks. "I don't have Facebook or Tinder, or any of that, so that part is simple enough. I don't enjoy texting either, so that works out as well. As for the hanging out, what if our schedules don't coincide and we're forced to hang out twice in a week? What kind of punishment does that entail?"

I hear the mockery in his voice, which causes an eye roll from me. "Your punishment will be not seeing me for a whole entire month."

"What will your punishment be?"

I think on it for a moment. "Not having a friend to hang out with for an entire month."

Everett chuckles, nodding along with agreement. "Deal. Our friendship will be one day a week and no more than that. It'll be a first for me. A friendship with guidelines and restrictions."

"It's safe," I tell him. Hating that I opened my mouth the moment I do.

His smile spreads. He knows this is harder than it should be for me.
Damn him.

When we get back to
the complex, I don't want to move from his truck. I'm pretty sure I've never ate so much in my life. "Thanks again for dinner," I tell him when I open the door.

He meets me in front of the truck and walks towards the entrance of our building beside me. Opening the door, he allows me to go in first. "Not a problem," he replies as I walk past. "I hope you enjoyed yourself."

"Actually, I did."

He takes in my smile and gives me one of his own, showing off a hint of a dimple I hadn't noticed before, probably because of his scruff. I'm not sure who this man is, but he is certainly unlike any other guy I've known. Attractive and amiable. He is down to earth, friendly, and... And I shouldn't be having these thoughts.

"Brenna?"

"Huh, what?" I hadn't even noticed he said anything to me. I was becoming lost in captivation, which only makes me more content with the rules. I need to go upstairs and shake all of this off. Maybe I need to ask Kandy for a couple extra clients, bring me back to reality. Go on a shopping spree, or a trip by myself. Anything that erases any thoughts I'm having about Everett and his attractiveness.

With a sweet hint of laughter, he repeats himself. "I asked... what day next week would you be free to go fishing?"

"Wait, you're still going with the fishing thing?"

He almost questions himself, but tries to confidently say, "Well... yeah."

I huff out in frustration. "I don't have to touch or eat any fish, do I?"

"No." The hint of amusement in his voice warms up things it shouldn't. "I wouldn't dare."

I ignore his sarcasm and accept that I can do this and it'll be all okay. I had a relaxing time tonight. He wasn't pushy, he didn't ask questions I couldn't handle, and we've both made it clear more than once we're not to cross lines with one another. I nod my head in reply. "Yeah, I'd like that."

With all the relationships I've
had, I've never experienced anyone like Brenna. She's mysterious, feisty, funny, and independent. Everything about her is tantalizing, and I can sense myself wanting far more than a friendship with her. It's apparent that that probably will never happen- I've honestly never met anyone who has walls built from concrete and steel the way she does.

Being in my line of work, I know that is usually a large telltale sign that something bad has happened in her past. Something more than a horrible break up. Usually an abusive relationship. It explains why she hasn't openly admitted her last name, doesn't want me to find her online, got uncomfortable when her home state was mentioned, and won't get too close. Among other things.

I don't like the thought of any person ever putting their filthy hands on her. If I ever find the son of a bitch that caused her the fear she has about trust and relationships, I swear I'll make sure he is inches from his life, begging and pleading for me to leave him alone. I'll make him fear each morning and every night and all the minutes in between. No fucking asshole should ever touch a female.

My body shakes at the thought. I don't even fucking know if that is what happened to her, it's just the greatest possible answer. Which is why I haven't pushed for more from her. Little hints here, and random questions there, and eventually I'll figure it out.

I could always go into work and pull up her file, figure out where she came from. Who she is. Everything publicly- and even some private information- but I won't. At least not yet. I want to give her the chance in telling me everything. I want her to trust me in time, open up to me, confide in me, whether as a friend… or more.

"Fuck," I whisper-shout to no one except the empty walls in my boring condo. I need to stop stressing about Brenna.

It's not easy- not with the way she dressed tonight- or any time I've seen her. Tight nightgowns that show off her hard nipples though the sheer material, or tiny bikinis that leave far too little to the imagination, tight jeans that let me know she must definitely do squats.
Fuck!
I'm getting all hot and bothered.

I turn on the water to my shower, making sure it's ice cold. Then with my clothes still on, I climb in. I'm hit with the hard reality that I need to back the fuck off. At least for now.

*~*~*

"What do you got?" My
new partner, Jeff Gunther, asks as he settles in the chair across from my desk. He tosses his weathered cowboy hat off to the side of my piled up paperwork.

Unfortunately I don't have much. It hasn't even been a full week since meeting with Ginger- well
Kandy
- and it's not until next Wednesday that I meet with Mona, the first prostitute. These are things he already knows. However, I've had to ask questions with different Johns from the list, and cut them deals. I'm only five in, out of almost one hundred and seventy. Jeff has met with two, but is going to start taking over that portion, mainly for the fact I'm the one undercover and obviously we don't want me to get caught with former clients.

"Not much, man. Still digging in. I've heard reasons why they've sought out whores, which is mainly because their wives aren't putting out anymore. I don't agree with it, but I guess that is their own dirty laundry to sort. Other than that, they all come up with basically the same facts; the girls are hot, young but legal age, Kandy set them up, what kind of lingerie they wear. No one can seem to describe the girls to me without talking about their bust size or if their hands fit tight around the asses. This is all bullshit. They're grown ass men who talk like adolescent teenage boys."

Jeff actually leans back in his chair, sharing a chuckle with himself. "We're all adolescent still. My Pap always told me that women are like novels. They need anticipation, a plot, a reason to be filled with desire. We think they're complicated, but really they're not. They think with their heads
and
their hearts. Men though," he chuckles once more, "We have two heads for a damn reason, and we think far too much with the wrong one."

"Even so, how can anyone take their hard earned money and spend thousands of it on a hooker? She may know what she's doing in the bedroom, but she's been used by so many people I can't imagine it feels that good. Plus, to come home to your wife, and maybe even your children after. How can you look those people in the face and think what you're doing is okay? I understand about the
wanting
the sex, but going after it?"

He shrugs. "Why do people do anything that they do? Go into to schools and start shooting, or torture animals, or neglect their children, or do drugs. It's about thrills, fascination, addictions. You know, people like forbidden things. Granted, not everyone, but too many do unfortunately. And when it comes to prostitutes or escorts or mistresses of any kind, well I can't speak for myself, I've always been faithful to my old lady, but I know damn well that it doesn't mean their love for their significant other or family is any less. Sometimes people are ashamed of their fantasies, they don't want their wives to know the things that give them pleasure. Maybe they don't want to choke their newlywed but have no problem with a random chick that's begging for more. They have their reasoning, and it's not our job to figure that part out. It's to shut this operation down."

"I know when the day comes that I'm married, I'll never pay someone to do for me what my wife can do. If I'm too ashamed to tell her my fantasies, I shouldn't trust her with my heart either. If I need thrill, I'll go sky diving."

"You're one of the good ones, Burke," he tells me. For some reason it makes me feel three inches tall, not over six feet. Not the fact he thinks I'm a good guy, but that I had to lash out on him about what these so-called men do behind their families back. Over ninety percent of them are married, I know this because it says the numbers in the paperwork. The ones that are not in bound marriages are all over the age of fifty five, except three. Those ones make a little more sense to me- and at least they're single- but either way I cannot see how anyone wants an overused vagina around their dick. It sickens me.

"Anyways," I change back to our original topic. "I am still working on everything, but I'm sure I'll have a lot more for you after next Wednesday."

"Right. Mona, is it?" He winks as he sits up straight, grabbing for his hat. "I would suggest finding out what her real name is. We're not getting that information. We know there is Mona, Chasity, Honey, Bella, and of course the ever so sweet Kandy. You have any plans figured out about what y'all gonna talk about?"

I roll my eyes. "I was planning on acting a bit drunk, that way I can break down about my fake break up and whine like a little bitch."

Jeff roars with laughter. "You'll probably fit in with a good portion of the guys she's been with then." He knocks his fist onto the wood of my desk before heading away from it, but I stop him before he gets too far.

"Hey, know of any good deep sea fishing places?"

He thinks on it a moment, but before he says anything, another detective peeks around the corner. "Call Crest Charters, ask about Reef and Wreck trips. They're amazing. It's about a forty minute drive from here, but well worth it. I'll give you the number if you need."

I can't think of the detective’s name, but I thank him for the information. Jeff shakes his head with amusement. "Bringing Mona out fishing, or killing her and throwing her body in the sea?"

“I have a friend that lives in the condo I do, and she's never been fishing... at least, she can't recall ever fishing. I wanted to give it a try with her."

"Nothing fancier than a fishing date." He laughs while walking down the hall. For doing our line of work, he is always a down to earth guy, apparently a happy one at that. I commend him for being able to keep a smile on his face with all the things I know he must've seen by now, being the age he is. I don't have time to correct him it's not a date, but if I'm being honest with myself, I don't want to correct him. I kind of like the thought of it. Maybe I can find something else to do before or after, depending on how long the trip is.

A few hours into paperwork, I feel a headache coming on. Mainly from the soft buzzing sound the light gives off, or the fact that every paragraph I read, I have to re-read because I'm stuck thinking about Brenna. Even the description of one of Kandy's girls sounds exactly like Brenna. At that point I have to rub my eyes, pushing the paper aside. My thoughts turn to her in all the oddest situations and for the dammest reasons. I can't keep doing this to myself. She is unattainable, at least for now, and I have work to do.

A knock comes on my door only seconds before it's being pushed open. Chief pops his head in, and I smile when I see that he has a little bit of mustard in his perfectly coiffed mustache. "Got a minute?" He asks.

"I do." Cracking my fingers, I stand to walk around the desk, glad to have this paperwork pushed away. Maybe he has something better, or at the very least something more distracting.

Walking in he hands me a decently thick folder filled entirely of more paperwork. I hold back my groan, hoping it has nothing to do with this case- or everything to do with the case, so I can finally head home. "Nothing major," he starts to explain. I flip open the front and see a mug shot of someone and the description next to him. "These are the most recent reports of warrants out. I know you're not a patrol officer, but next weekend I'm going to need you to head down to Tampa. These men are located anywhere from Escambia County to Hillsborough County. So when you head down there, you see any of these guys, call it in will ya? Jeff has copies too. I wouldn't normally do this, but they're wanted for more than just some civil cases."

My head spins. "Why am I heading down to Tampa?" I don't mention that is when I was planning on taking Brenna out fishing. I don't know her schedule and which days she'd be able to go, but I do know that the weekends are basically it for me."

"It appears Kandy has a friend down there, or the better yet, the lack of one. A few of her girls went down there when the list came out, so I want Jeff to interrogate them and you to snap pictures and take notes of them all. I'll have more for you later this week."

"Sounds great, Sir," I tell him. Even if I find myself frustrated by it all.

"You can bring the folder home with you. Nothing you need to concern yourself with at this current moment." He nods his head, heading out the door.

I'm not at home ten
minutes when Emily calls my phone. I haven't even gotten my boots off yet, but I'm certainly not missing a phone call with my little sis. "How's it going?" I answer the phone.

"I was about to ask the same." Her voice seems jubilant. "Things are going well up here. Got to see an ultrasound of the baby, next month we get a 3D one, which is nerve wrecking and exciting all at once. I'm not sure if I'm ready to see his face. I almost wanted to be surprised when he was born. You know?" She rambles on. "How are you? Settled in any?"

I can hear the engine rev to life, so she must have literally just left the doctors. It makes me happy that she wants to share the news with me right off- it makes me twice as sad though that I'm not actually
there
for her. Either are our parents. I know more than anything she wanted Mom to be here to help with the nursery and all the first time parent questions. Either way, we had great role models growing up, so I know she'll make an excellent mother- not that I ever had a doubt.

Propping the phone between my shoulder and ear, I start to unlace my boots. "Not too bad. Work is good, I settled in here a lot better than I thought I would. I like my place, but it's almost too big. It's empty. I'm not sure where to put anything. I still haven't unpacked half the boxes."

"Well, good news for you then. Actually, it's the main reason I called."

She pauses, so I know she wants me to guess something. "You're... moving down here?" I'm not sure if I can sound any more hopeful.

I can hear her breath deflate, which means that she
wishes
that were the truth. "No, sadly. Sebastian said it isn't fair to his parents or he'd think about it. So maybe in a couple years, if you're still there. However, I got some extra time off work, so I'll be visiting you this upcoming week!" Her voice raises several octaves with excitement. "Which means I can also help you set your place up."

"Sebastian is coming with you, right?" I have to ask.

"No. He can't get the time off work."

"You can't drive here alone!" I sound like Dad right now, but she's pregnant- that is far too dangerous for both the baby and herself.

She giggles softly on the other end. "Okay, Dad." Calling me out. "I'll be flying, it's perfectly fine. He'll drop me off at the airport, you can pick me up when I land, and it'll all be fine and dandy. Don't worry about me."

"Can you fly while pregnant?"

"Are you being serious right now? Do you know how many pregnant women fly?" She clearly finds amusement in my concern.

"Yes, I'm serious. What if your stomach pops or something from the pressure?" Okay, that was definitely a Dad comment, and probably not even close to a possibility. I want to make sure if it's actually safe for her to fly though.

"Seriously?" My ear if filled with an echoing roar of laughter. I have to pull the phone from my ear. "No, my stomach most definitely will not randomly combust, you moron. There is a small chance of blood clots because of the elevation and other minor things, but it's all unlikely to happen. I need to avoid salt, and try to drink lots of water, get up and walk around the cabin once or twice. That's about it. I already discussed it with my doctor, and she said she had absolutely no reason to believe it'd be harmful for me or baby. I've been perfectly healthy this pregnancy thus far."