He mistook me for a girl of easy virtue, but I just wanted to forget after my husband’s cheating and the divorce…
— “All the most interesting things are here,” he braces his palm against his cheek and without shame looks down into my cleavage. “Today, my client will be you.”
Great—he confused me with a prostitute.
— “You’re out of luck,” I smirk, and slide my gaze into the hall where the show is already starting.
— “Are you a stripper or a prostitute?” he asks, and he won’t leave me alone. “If you’re here, then there are no other options.”
“Honestly, you’re annoying.”
— “You’re wrong,” I finish my drink and set the empty glass on the counter. “There’s one more option—the coolest one.”
— From the absurdity of the situation, I start laughing. “I’m a stripper—dash—prostitute.”
— “Perfect,” the man clicks his tongue. “I’ll pay for the full package.”