“I think there is a misunderstanding.” I have an idea what to tell her next.
“There is nothing to misunderstand. You are inviting me to your suite and offering me an outrageous sum of money. And you call it ‘my services’!” She leans forward and I almost mirror her.
She has more to say and she probably leaned closer just to keep her voice down. I interrupt her.
“I did not invite you to my suite!”
She lifts her eyes when she realizes I am right. Luckily. I didn’t state the obvious, so I still have a chance to explain myself. If it was anyone else I’d just say, “What’s the fuss, honey? Will you let me f**k you for this sum or not?”
This feels like s**t. I haven’t often been refused. Perhaps never.
“I just said your contract was upstairs.”
She nods in agreement and adjusts her hair. She
