The next day, I was in a fancy office, with Petra behind a glass desk, and me back in my standard t-shirt.  Her chairs were small and I figured it was only a matter of time until this one collapsed under me.

“I want to offer you a job. I see you’re working all over the map, all kinds of rates. With me, you get a steady income,” Petra told me.

She’d liked my little audition as security for her “date.”

I’d come to find out she wasn’t some old lady playing at madam. She was more powerful than any of the politicians or bankers I’d guarded, and she wanted me to come to work for her. Her story is one for another time, and really not mine to tell. It’s safe to say she was about to become my boss. And it’s barely safe to say that. Petra knew what I wanted, and she was in a position to help me get it. I’ve come to learn that’s one of her skills: knowing what people need. I needed a steady and lucrative source of cash.

I also needed to protect people. It wasn’t so much something I chose, but something I was. I knew when people were about to step in shit and I pushed them out of the way or cleaned it up before they got there. I’ve come to think being the adult with my mother is where this all started, but I try not to think about it too much. Who cares why? It just was and Petra knew it.

 “I haven’t been afraid since I’ve known you,” she said, kind of randomly when I collected from my audition job.

“Gaslight, Charles Boyer and Ingrid Bergman, 1944.” I’d caught her meaning.

She was dropping movie quotes on me. Maybe trying to make me prove I’m not just a bruiser as she called me at first.

Or did she know I watched old movies when I couldn’t sleep? That started when I would watch over my mom to make sure she didn’t stop breathing. More psychology for you right there, eh?

 “Alright Abe, you got that one. I’d heard you liked old movies. Here’s what I know. I know you’re saving your money. That’s clear. I also know you want to move out to the country, very ‘Of Mice and Men’ of you.”

She made it sound quaint. I didn’t give a damn if she thought my plans were small time or not. I had no desire to rule the world or a company or whatever the hell she did at Vallin Consulting.

“Yes, and I’ll love him and keep him and name him George,” I replied to her Of Mice and Men reference. Take that. I wanted her to know from the get-go that muscle did not mean stupid.

“Very good Abe, very good,” she smiled, and it was damned dazzling. It was easy to see how she could wrap you around her finger with one hand and slit your throat with another. Petra was dangerous and I planned to stay on her good side.

“Here’s my offer. I need more of what you did the other night. I have many other associates.”

“Associates?” That was the classiest name I’d ever heard for hookers. Yes. That’s what I thought, hookers. I came to learn that Petra’s associates were very different than the junkie whores that populated the lowest rungs of society where I’d grown up.

But that first day I thought we were talking about hookers. The associates I’d guarded over the years since that first day changed my mind on that. See? I can be taught.

“Yes, my associates are real estate agents, models, art appraisers, even entertainers. They’re hired by my very rich clients. I broker the relationships, network if you will.” Petra had walked out from behind her desk and was in front of it, leaning on it with her ankles crossed.

“Very pretty language,” I replied.

“Yes, but you understand, my network would fall apart if I couldn’t guarantee the safety of my associates?” Petra winked at me. She wasn’t going to have me say the words that, if caught on some surveillance in this building, would land us both in jail.

“I understand, you want me to do like I did for your girl last night. But full time. That come with medical and dental?”

“No. But you’ll find I’m about to make you a very lucrative offer. I want the best so I pay for it. Now let’s talk terms.”

The terms were life changing. Petra offered to pay me well, very well.

And because of that good pay, I’ve been working for her for the last five years, providing security for her gorgeous, highly skilled, rare and expensive independent associates; her people. I was security for the best tail on the planet. They weren’t whores or sluts or any of the derogatory things I’d had in my mind in the beginning. They had skills and got paid for it. Tell me, what’s wrong with that? And I would take a bullet for every single one of them.

As security jobs went, this was the best you could get. Sure, you could be Secret Service, I suppose. But then likely you’d be doing what I did, making sure no one gets hurt during sex, and you’d make less money. Side note: You don’t let the intern walk out of the building with a stained blue dress. That’s rookie shit.

It took me only six months with Petra to earn what I’d lost in the lawsuit, my life’s savings up to then. Yep, you read that right. I was pulling down $15,000 a job with employment around once a week. All expenses were paid, including the equipment I needed.

And I had free reign to innovate and invest in security tools. No more earring microphones.

These days, the setup for the associates included sophisticated cameras in the room, in the vehicles, and in any public places they were supposed to meet. Sometimes, I’d spend a week setting up the electronics for one night’s work. I was proud to say that with me around, not one hair on one beautiful head was ever harmed giving head.

I was paid to watch. I was top-level professional security with a specialty in voyeurism. I supposed some guys like to watch. For me it was a job, I had to.

Petra appreciated my attention to details, the eyes-wide-open approach, and after three years, she rewarded me with a raise. I was making $25K a job for Petra and banking that shit.

My original goal was $2 million dollars and maybe a little more for cushion. With $2 million, I could buy my ranch and cattle, and start building my house. It even gave me a buffer while I learned how to earn income from ranching. I had a plan.  And that plan was all I thought about, aside from keeping the clients from compromising the associates.

Last month was a big month for me. I had over $4 million dollars in the bank. It was time to buy the ranch.

I had my eye on a place and finally bit the bullet and bought it.  I then signed the biggest check I’d ever written. I don’t care who you are forking it over to, half-a-million bucks is a sphincter-clenching number.  But now the dream was a real place; I owned it. Well, I owned a start on it. I had a log cabin on 640 acres, off the grid, in Montana. And I still had nearly four million in the bank.

I felt pretty satisfied with myself. And I felt ready to get out of the security business. In the end, I felt tired of having a boss.

When I walked into Petra’s office to turn in my resignation, she wasn’t happy.

“Look, I know you think you have a lot of money, but you don’t,” Petra said.

“I don’t?” Her idea of living expenses and mine had always been oceans apart.

“Not for the rest of your life? Do you think free-range cattle ranching or whatever this ridiculous idea you’ve got is something you can actually do? Make a living at? That nest egg you’ve been hoarding is going to drain fast.” Petra talked to me, but she was mostly looking at her laptop and phone. Her new favorite thing was texting.

“I think it’s plenty for what I have in mind.”

“Do me this one favor. I need you to help me guide a new girl.”

“A new girl?” I never really thought of Petra’s prostitutes as girls. They were all smart, ambitious, and in many ways like me, focused on a job they had to do and the money they would earn if they did it well.

“Yes, she’s a girl. Of age, I can assure you. But I have had a request, dozens of requests actually, for a more innocent type, and she’s it.”

“What’s of age in your book?” I didn’t like the sound of taking advantage of some kid out of high school. This line of work was not for the timid or naïve. Naïve could get your heart and your bones broken.

“She’s 22.” Petra was beginning to get annoyed with my reluctance.

“What’s so innocent about her?”

“She’s no virgin, so relax. I recently collected her from a rougher situation. She was a dancer, awful place. Her boss wanted extra benefits she wasn’t inclined to provide for no extra pay, and he threatened to fire her. She felt cornered and probably would have given in if I hadn’t approached her with a better offer. You’ll see when you meet her. She has so much more value than what that pig wanted from her. She can thrive with us.”

“Amazing how you got there just in time.” Petra always seemed to make offers right when the person who’d received them was in no position to say no.

“It’s a gift. Other people can crochet.”

“Right, so what’s my offer?” If she wanted me to do this, maybe I could make up a little of the 500-grand I’d just plunked down.

“Oh, playing hardball with me after all these years, Abe? I like it.”

“I need to buy a cow or two.”

“Oh darling, why buy the cow when you can rent? How about this? Help me with the intake. You know the drill for first timers, they need a gentle hand but firm rules. And provide security for at least her first client. I’ll double your fee, just because I don’t want to lose you just yet.” She ran her eyes across my chest with that last comment. Petra, now well into her seventies I’d guess, wasn’t shy. She was no cougar either. She could skin a cougar and grill it for dinner.

“Fine, I’ll set up this new associate. Then I’m out.” I did not plan to give her any wiggle room.

“Of course, you are. It’s a deal.” And Petra and I shook hands on what I was convinced was my last deal with her. I’d retire with a fat bank account and my ranch free and clear. I felt like I’d figured life out perfectly right about then.