Page 41 of The Kingpin's Call Girl

“You handled it perfectly before—it wasn’t the deal you made. Guys like him don’t beg and wheedle. If he didn’t trust you, you wouldn’t be there.”

“So you say.”

“Though he may have you followed. Simply out of curiosity, if nothing else.”

“What?”

Bender goes on to give me instructions on how to lose a tail on my return home—like it’s no big deal. “Change your pace, use reflections, make sudden turns, enter crowded places, use public transport, get off at the last second...”

My head is spinning by the time we hang up. How is this my life right now? Eleven at night is usually when I’m reading in bed, if not sleeping, but the Lukas of the world start their day at night, I guess.

I go back to work, reviewing my highlighted stuff, but the words swim senselessly in front of my eyes.

Will I get sucked into his whole dark depraved vortex again where I was panting for him like a dog in heat? It was wrong, so deeply wrong. Panting for a killer. Coming for a killer. Desperate for him to pull my hair and all the rest.

So wrong.

If only he’d lost interest. I could keep the money, and Bender would still have to help me with Mary because I did my part.

It’s here I get a new idea: Could ImakeLuka lose interest in me?

He liked it when I seemed prim and angry. When I looked at him with scorn.Don’t act like you like it,he said.

So... what if I went with the opposite? What if I acted infatuated with him instead of hating him? What if I were to smile sweetly instead of frowning and glaring?

The more I think about it, the more I think that this could be the key. Luka loved when I turned on the whole haughty thing.

I’ll be a pliable playmate. Unopinionated. Happy to oblige.

Could I pull it off? Of course!

Maybe then he’d decide I was a bad investment and move on.

And Bender won’t be able to do anything about it because Luka would have rejected me.

He’d still have to help me with my sister because I did everything he asked, didn’t I?

I just have to act nice. Bland. Obsequious. I can do that.

Dress nice.

Did he like the sexy red dress? Well, then, I’ll find the opposite of that.

An hour later, I’m window shopping on the Upper West Side.

I stop at a vintage store with a pale pink dress in the window—so pale, it’s nearly pearl, with a tiny stitch detail along the bodice.

Odetta always teases me that my favorite color is pastel. Like that’s a bad thing. I love the calm serenity of pastels. The elegance of pale salmon. Buttercream. Light blue. And this pale pink is the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. It’s quiet. Simple, with a small collar. Maybe even a bit prim and not at all sexy.

This is not a dress to be lusted over or even noticed in. How much would Luka hate it?

I grin. He said to wear something nice, and this counts as that.

I go in and try it on with kitten heels. I put my hair in a ponytail and walk out to check the mirror. A shiver runs through me.

It’s the perfect Edie dress. And he’ll so hate it.

Chapter Sixteen

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