Page 15 of While She Sleeps

I’ve been alone with Lucas a million times before, and unless I can find a way to pay off my debt to him, I probably will be a million more.

Once I’ve settled the anxiety building in my chest, I push off from the basin and step back into the hallway.

The music from the main floor filters through the tight space as I walk to the end of the hall and knock on the door. There’s no way I’m stepping into this room without knocking, knowing how many of the girls he’s fucking.

“Come in,” he calls, and I don’t hesitate to shove the door open even as my stomach recoils at the thought.

Lucas sits on the other side of the desk, his eyes glued to the computer screen in front of him, with his brows furrowed.

I step into the room and close the door behind me, slipping into one of the chairs in front of the desk, folding my hands in my lap as I wait for Lucas to finish whatever it is he’s doing.

It didn’t take very long for me to learn he isn’t someone who likes being interrupted, and I don’t think I can handle his anger right now.

He finally looks up at me as he leans back in his chair, staring over the cheap wooden desk at me. “How did you do it?”

“Do what?” I ask, my brows tugging together in confusion as I try to rack my brain about everything I’ve done recently that he could possibly be talking about.

“How did you catch the attention of the most ruthless businessman to ever call LA home?”

I open my mouth, but it immediately snaps shut again because I’m still not quite following this conversation. “I don’t know what you mean,” I tell him honestly.

“Orion Henderson specifically requested time with you in the private room. He paid through the fucking nose to spend an hour with a girl that can’t dance for shit, so I gotta assume you were using your body considering the fucking tip he left you.”

He thinks he’s clearing up what I’m confused about, but if anything, I’m more confused now than I was when he first opened his mouth. He paid to sit in the dark room and talk? Why the hell would he do that?

I shake my head. “We didn’t do anything. We just…talked.”

Lucas’s booming laugh startles me, but I force myself to remain in my seat. “You’re telling me, the most eligible bachelor in this city walks into my club, picks my least experienced girl from the crowd, and then sat there and talked?”

Okay, so he doesn’t believe me. I get that. I probably wouldn’t believe me if I were him either, especially when he puts it like that. It does seem kind of farfetched.

I fold my arms across my chest defensively, but don’t bother to argue. I know what happened in that room, and I really couldn’t give a fuck what Lucas thinks of me, so long as he doesn’t think this is going to be a regular thing.

“He wants to see you again. Tomorrow night.”

My eyes widen, and my stomach flips in a way that’s unfamiliar. “This was supposed to be a one-off, Lucas. This isn’t what I do, and I’m never going to pay back mine and Travis’s debts with some measly tips from the club. I need real jobs. The jobs you hired me to do in the first place.”

He huffs out a sigh and drops his elbows to the desk. He considers me for a beat before pushing an envelope across the desk and nodding to it. “Open it.”

I reach for the unsuspecting white envelope, knowing it could hold just about anything. When you work with criminals, you learn to expect the unexpected.

But when I lift the flap, it’s not a job or anything sinister, for that matter. It’s cash. A lot of fucking cash.

I flick my eyes up to meet his smug gaze before looking back down at the wad of hundreds staring back at me.

“That’s your cut. I’ve already taken mine, plus your loan payment.”

My mouth drops open in surprise. There’s at least fifteen hundred dollars here, which means Orion paid an obscene amount of money to sit in a dark room and chat.

The question is, why?

Why would anyone pay to talk to a stranger?

I almost laugh at myself because I literally did that a few hours ago as I laid myself bare to a psychiatrist, begging them to save me from drowning in the pools of my own grief.

“You’ll be here at the same time tomorrow night. You won’t have to work VIP. You’ll only be seeing Orion.”

I finally find my voice, dropping the envelope into my lap. “This is feeling vaguely like prostitution, Lucas.”

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