I rinsed my hands in the sink and thumbed my phone to check that Adam had gotten my safety text. The cash was tucked securely in my wallet, and all there. He was paying me for four hours. That was enough for dinner and a trip to a hotel, if he really wanted.

There was the snarky reply from Adam. Yep, he knew not to call the cops.

Couldn’t be too careful, so I always did safety check-ins. This was a legit restaurant, and better yet, it was a regular haunt of Charlie’s, which meant he wasn’t planning to bring me to some abandoned alley afterward and knife me.

With that taken care of, I could focus on prettying up. When my hair looked just right, I toweled off my hands and headed out to the restaurant to rejoin my dinner companion. Charlie had clearly made an effort to dress up, so I was glad I’d trusted my instincts and overdressed just a touch. I looked perfect on Charlie’s arm at a fancy place like this.

“Hey,” Charlie greeted. Our water had already arrived. Damn, I hadn’t been able to keep an eye on it. I’d take it slowly just in case. Water was the best, though. Very hard to sneak anything into water.

“Hi,” I answered and gave him a breathless smile. Normally I had to fake being interested in a guy until he said something interesting that I could seize upon and milk, but there were too many interesting subjects to choose from with Charlie already. “So, you were saying about the outdoors… not your thing?”

“Oh, no,” Charlie chuckled. He sipped his water. “I’m more of an urbanite, but more by career than choice. I’m not often needed in forests.”

I nodded. “That makes sense. Any other hobbies, then? Or does your career take over your life?”

“Yep,” Charlie said succinctly. “Unfortunately.”

I reminded myself again that he was blunt not to be rude, but because that was what people here were like. “I get out to Central Park a lot, and when I find another park, I explore. It’s the closest I get to… well, where I came from.”

I didn’t love inviting questions about it, but I had the feeling he would be tactful.

Sure enough, he chose his words carefully. “Any particular reason you came here?”

“The usual,” I told him with a rueful grin. “To get away from anyone who knows me.”

I steered the conversation back to his work to avoid any further prying, and before long, he was telling funny work stories. Even though I had to laugh at them, it wasn’t a chore. He was a lot cleverer than he seemed to know, and I liked his humor. Subtle and quick, not in-your-face, but he wasn’t afraid of a dirty joke.

He’d be a lot of fun in bed. It was a shame he wasn’t thinking of that.

Our main courses turned out absolutely delicious, and I complimented his taste. The white wine garlic sauce and parsley brought out all the juicy chicken flavors, and the vegetables on the side had been roasted until they were sweet. I loved every bite.

“You should see my taste in men,” he deadpanned.

I couldn’t resist a laugh. He had a way of taking me by surprise, but not to try to prove how funny he was, either. Nothing about him seemed egotistical, which was a surprise. Most men in the city were on some quest to be the best, smartest, funniest, richest guy out there.

But his humor was self-deprecating, too. He added after a moment, “Good thing they don’t reciprocate.”

“Don’t put yourself down,” I immediately told him, leaning over the table. “You’d be a catch by anyone’s standards, and I should know.”

He opened his mouth for a moment, and then that shy attitude came back. He blushed and looked down at his empty plate. Now I had to get him to believe it, didn’t I? But if he didn’t want to believe, there wasn’t anything anyone could tell him to change his mind. It was a struggle I constantly had: whether to try to compliment people who clearly had insecurities, knowing that it might not do any good.

I just wished I could show everyone how I saw them, in all their interesting quirks and foibles, and the beauty that came from being real people, not the porn stars and actors they compared themselves to.

Saved by the waiter, who came to check on us. Charlie recovered his composure, asked for the bill, handed over his card, and made small talk.

Only after we left the restaurant did he wrap his arm around me. “Thanks. It’s been a long time since my last date, like I said. It’s easy to start believing that I’m… you know, not a good candidate.”

“Just because you weren’t the right candidate for other people’s positions doesn’t mean there isn’t a kama sutra of options out there,” I told him.

Charlie grinned, as I’d hoped. “That makes me feel better, but slightly horny,” he admitted. “Sorry.”

“I’d be insulted if it didn’t,” I teased, licking my lips. With the charge between us, I wasn’t sure if we were going for coffee or to his place.

“Would you like to…” he trailed off, seemingly genuinely conflicted.

“Probably, but you can ask,” I told him, taking both his hands as I turned to face him.

He squeezed my hands and composed himself again, then let out his breath. “Right. Would you like to come back to my place? I told myself I wouldn’t, but… things have changed.”

It’s amazing how often one date can change them. I bit back my smirk and nodded eagerly. Good news for me. All that time shaving wasn’t going to go to waste. “I’d love that.”

“Good.” He looked relieved. “Even if we just have coffee… we can’t really talk openly in public, can we?”

“I think we’d be more comfortable somewhere private,” I agreed. As the Uber pulled up, I checked out the license plate and texted it to Adam, then climbed in after Charlie, who didn’t even seem to have noticed the safety precaution.

He really was sheltered. God, he was going to be so much fun.

Surprisingly, the car ride wasn’t the kind we tuned out and waited to end. He kept asking questions about what TV I liked, where I’d been in New York City, and offering suggestions about places that were must-see sights.

By the time we got to the brick townhouse, I felt like I knew him enough not to assume he was a snob for owning one. A well-paid nice guy was a rarity. One who wanted me inside his own house, not even a hotel? It felt more and more like a date, even if I had to remind myself it wasn’t.

A discreet, quick text of his address to Adam, and I double-checked the time. Technically, we had an hour left. It was bad practice to let customers overrun the time—they start to feel like they’re something… well, exceptional. I had to fight every instinct that told me that maybe Charlie was.

A guy like him wasn’t still on the market for no reason.

Maybe Charlie wasn’t a serial killer, but he was horrible in bed. Or he hated puppies. Or he stayed late at work every night. Or he put his milk in the bowl before cereal. Yeah, that much sounded true. I couldn’t see him being bad at sex or hating puppies, and definitely not putting the milk in first. Although I couldn’t wait for him to put the milk in me.

“Welcome,” he told me, ushering me into the foyer. “It’s not cozy, but it’s mine.”

When I could speak again, I scoffed. “Nonsense.” It was definitely the kind of showy home you’d invite your clients to, nothing like I’d expected from the outside. Not ornate and old-fashioned and pretentious, but young and hip. Was this really the same house, or had I entered a warp portal?

“I get that reaction a lot.” Charlie grinned, gesturing at my face. “I designed this myself, and hand-picked my favorite contractors.”

Suddenly my own apartment seemed that much shabbier in comparison, and I blushed. “Right,” I agreed. “Makes sense, in your line of work.”

“All I do here is cocktail parties and dinner parties and that stuff,” Charlie sighed. “I’ve been meaning to add a few more personal touches.”

The whole lower floor seemed ideal for entertaining: a large living room looking out into the small but well-landscaped back yard, an open-plan kitchen with an island, and a full bathroom.

These glimpses into strangers’ lives were always fascinating. My curiosity was engaged about what the upstairs looked like, and whether it was equally impersonal, but I might never find out. God, I hoped I did. Watching him walk in those tight pants did things to me.

“So, workaholic?” I asked, settling on the couch as he brought us glasses of sparkling water again. “That’s why you haven’t been dating?”

“That’s half of it,” he admitted. He handed me a glass and sipped. “I… had a boyfriend five years ago,” he said slowly, his expression fixed on mine. I knew something was coming, so I waited.

I’d heard several variations of this story, and my heart already ached as I wondered which it would be.

“He died suddenly. Car accident.”

Oh, shit. I hadn’t expected that from a guy his age, and his expression told me that he knew exactly what my reaction was. He must have had a million people tell him the usual useless condolences.

“Sorry,” I said simply and frowned. No use going over the top when I hadn’t known about it at all. It always came off as fake when strangers were oh so sorry that my family were useless pieces of shit. I was still bitter, but having random strangers wish them harm always felt weird.

“It’s all right.” His response was automatic. Years of practice. “I’m over him, I think. How can you really tell if you’re over someone?”

“When they’re not always on your mind,” I said without hesitation. “When you don’t catch yourself thinking about them obsessively, or torturing yourself with memories.”

His gaze was far too perceptive for my liking, but he didn’t ask. He just nodded. “There was a day I woke up and realized that the day before, I hadn’t even really thought about him. I knew I’d turned a corner then.”

“Good for you,” I told him.

“But I threw myself into work to get through. So, even though I feel ready to date? Have been for years? Still don’t know how.”

I nodded. “Were you together long?” I didn’t mind asking since it sounded like it wasn’t a sore point anymore.

“A few years. College boyfriends.”

So he hadn’t dated as an adult, really. College was a whole different ballgame, and a different set of social rules, and it made it much easier to meet people.

I suddenly understood why he’d looked overwhelmed and clueless when I greeted him with a pretty standard hug and not even a butt squeeze. It was a serious moment, though. Not the time to think about butt squeezes.

I put a hand on his knee. “Right. So it must be hard to get back in the game.”

“It is, but that’s what I’m hoping to do,” he agreed. “I didn’t really want to, but then… I don’t know. I saw you, and it suddenly seemed like it was worth a try.”

I’d had plenty of guys tell me that I was different, or too good for sex work, or they could rescue me. My speech was prepared in the back of my mind, but I hoped I didn’t have to use it. “Yeah?”

“I was hoping today to learn… more about dating, and what I like these days. And what I can do better.” Charlie looked at me, his eyes shining with hope. “Would you help me?”

I couldn’t exactly say no. “Of course,” I told him. “That’s what I’m here for. What do you mean, help you?”

“Is there anything I could have done better?”

I stopped for a moment. It was all I could do not to break out laughing. “You want me to… to give you a report card?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t,” I grinned. “I enjoyed it too much. And I’m not even fibbing a little,” I added before he protested. “Honestly, that felt the most like a real perfect first date than most of my dates ever have.”

“And you say that to most guys, right?” Charlie winked.

I grinned and held up my hands. “Maybe. But I mean it. I walked up to you and Darren at the bar because I was interested in you. And you turned out to be more interesting when I got to know you more. I think you’re gonna do just fine when you get out on the prowl.”

I was already jealous of the lucky man who would get this guy. He was kind, intelligent, smart, and hard-working. As long as he could learn to stay at home now and then and pamper his boyfriend, he’d be a damn lucky guy.

“There’s only one section of the report card we haven’t filled out yet,” I added. When he blinked at me, I grinned again. “The bedroom.”

“Ah, right.” Charlie’s blush was adorable. He nodded, his eyes fixed on mine.

“So… what do you say?” I tried not to plead. He bit his lip, and I couldn’t breathe. If he was going to let me down, I hoped he’d do it quickly, because I needed the answer right now.

“How much time do we have left?”

God, I’d gotten so sucked into spending time talking to him that I hadn’t even kept track of the time. I checked my watch. “Half an hour.”

“That’s not much time,” Charlie hummed quietly.

I would stop my watch if that was what it took to get him in bed with me, but I bit back my comment before I sounded too desperate. “There’s lots we can do in half an hour. So, is that a yes?”

I didn’t want to coax anyone into something they didn’t want. But goddamn did I want to see this man with his clothes off, and I didn’t care if he was a top or a bottom or a side or oral-only or even if he had the weirdest fetishes out there.

I just wanted him.

Shit. I wasn’t supposed to feel like that about a client. I wasn’t supposed to be hanging on, waiting for his answer. And I shouldn’t be crossing every finger and toe that the answer was yes. Whatever he answered in a few moments’ time, I was screwed, because now I knew I was into him.

What the hell had I done?