over to Stu. She was going to ask to see them, but she wasn’t
sure if she’d be able to.
“Some girls get lucky. They go from being waitresses or
companions, dates for the evening, to being a more permanent
companion. They meet the right person and bam! Taken care
of for life. You know what I’m talking about?”
Cassia nodded. She pursed her lips and lowered her lashes
to give the camera a sultry look. At least, she imagined she
did. Rodger seemed pleased enough. She couldn’t very well
tell him that she’d left a life where she had everything to come
to this. He wouldn’t have understood.
She’d agreed to a waitressing/companion position. She
knew it would involve skimpy outfits and drunk, loud parties.
She also knew people could look, but not touch. Stu promised
she’d be briefed before every job, given a choice as to whether
she wanted to take it or not.
He’d also said that some men just wanted companionship, a
beautiful woman on his arm for the evening, and didn’t want
more than that. She had no idea why someone would pay for
such a thing, but then she’d recalled Vincent and understood.
He would have had to provide her with the kind of lifestyle her
father expected him to give her. He would have owned her
body too, but mostly, her marriage would have involved her
showing up on his arm, presenting the world with an image of
her happiness. She would have been required to fake the ideal
of married bliss.
At least this way, if she was going to do virtually the same
thing, she could get paid for it. The more money she made, the
sooner she could get out of there. If she made enough, she
could get to a different city, take the time she needed to get a