Page 52 of See Me

“So, my mystery sculpture guy is a hooker?”

“Mystery?” I turn in my seat, the belt digging into my shoulder. “You don’t even know what he looks like?”

“Not exactly. His side profile is visible in one of his pictures. He can’t be that hard to find.”

“Just because he works for this Kylo guy doesn’t mean he does the same thing. Maybe he’s his accountant or something.”

Her face scrunches up. “A mysterious metal sculpting hooker accountant?”

An elite socialite turned homeless bartender/teacher?

I clear my throat and straighten in my seat. “I’ve heard of stranger things.”

She points to my lap. “Does that card have an address on it?”

I flip it over. “It has an email address. And the city.”

“I knew the city. I wasn’t going in completely blind. I stalked his Instagram until I had enough info to narrow it down.”

“Do you think I should send him an email?”

“And say what?Hello Madam Kylo, does one of your harlots sculpt metal in their spare time by chance?”

I scoff. “I highly doubt he goes by madam. That’s really outdated verbiage.”

“You think? I always felt like madam was sort of classy. Like yes, I’m a prostitute, but I’m still a fucking lady and you will address me as such. And they wore all those frilly, lacy dresses, with silken garter belts, and their hair was alwaysswept up off their necks.” She runs her hand up the back of her neck and makes a kissy face at me. “Classy.”

I can’t help but laugh at her. “Cassie, do you have hooker fantasies? Because they also pissed in chamber pots and wiped their kitties with a wet rag between lays.”

“Eww.” She gags. “Way to ruin it.”

“Sorry. We got way off topic there.”

“Let’s just get into town, stop for lunch, and ask around about this Kylo Kent guy. See what we can find out.”

“Works for me.”

This damn hooker hunt can take all week for all I care. I’m in absolutely no hurry to get back and pretend like I’m whole. I was barely holding my pieces together before last night. And as much as I hate to admit it, Luca’s blatant dismissal and complete disregard for my feelings, as girly as that sounds, shredded some of the already tattered rope I was using to hold myself together.

We roll into town late afternoon after stopping for the night when it got scary navigating the roads. We spent the morning going from shop to shop in the little downtown area, asking if anyone knew of a local business owner named Kylo. Some people scoffed and turned their backs on us, some immediately smiled with a predatory gleam in their eye, and after running away from several creeps, we finally found answers in a small diner we stopped in for lunch.

After the gum smacking waitress gives us directions to a cabin up in the hills near the edge of town, we pay our bill, and Cassie practically bounces all the way to the car.

“You do realize everyone in this town now thinks we’re so desperate we tracked down a male brothel in the dead of winter, and are risking our lives driving in a snowstorm up toDick Cabin? And you just skipped all the way to the car.”

She opens the car door and stops without getting in. “It sounds bad when you say it out loud.”

I look over my shoulder and see patrons of the diner staring and pointing. “As opposed to the innocent version in your head?”

“We are innocent.” We both climb in and shut the doors. “We aren’t going there for dick.”

“Right, just to track down a metal-sculpting hooker who won’t return your messages.”

She tosses her purse in the back seat and shoves my shoulder. “You’re just pulling out all the nefarious pieces of the story.”

“That’s all I’m gonna remember. And when I recount this story to everyone I know, it’s gonna be all about the dick hunt.”

Cassie buckles in and whips her head around to level a glare at me. “Rude.”

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