“I don’t know about that, Lawson. As tempting as that sounds,” – it didn’t – “I think I’ll pass.” I wasn’t very interested in getting back involved with Lawson.
“Come on, man, don’t be like that. Look, I’ll be paying for everything, whatever you want. Women, booze, whatever, you just get that pic.”
He wanted this blackmail for his own purposes, I was sure of it. But it was still worth a shot.
“Oh, and did I mention?” Lawson said, bringing me out of my thoughts on the commissioner. “There will be an auction! A dozen of hottest chicks we could find! The best of the best!”
The idea didn’t sound appealing at all, but speaking with the District Attorney there might play to my advantage. I doubted the DA would like it to be common knowledge that he frequented auction houses of women. It was even worse than a potential sex club.
“Okay, Lawson, I’ll bite.”
“I knew you would want to come! I will see you there Sunday at nine, okay? I’ll tell the boys to reserve a space for you at the staff parking.”
“You’re overdoing it.”
Lawson laughed. “I know, I’m just happy my old pal Owen is back!”
“I never left,” I said. That part was true, he left me. I was still here.
As soon as I hung up, I saw Monica stepping into the office. “I cannot believe you agreed to meet with that asshole!”
“Easy. I’m not meeting with him. I’m checking out the club, and speaking to the other attendees. Maybe I’ll get a date or something.” I smirked at her, we both knew I didn’t need to buy some girl.
I could have whatever I wanted.
Whoever I wanted.
Whenever I wanted.
Monica considered it. Then said, “Wear the navy suit. It makes your eyes shine.”
I smirked, feeling better for the first time that day. I was already going to wear a blue one.
On my way out, she turned to me and said, “You know he wants something from you, right?”
“Oh, I’m counting on it.”
Chapter 3
Sydney
I got the call back from the Chicago Buyer’s Club on Saturday evening. By that time I had given up on the idea, and even Julia stopped urging me to call them again. But then again, Julia had spent most of the weekend out in the city, bar-trotting, as I called it.
Back on Thursday, after Julia had gone to sleep, I finished that bottle of wine and, of course, picked up that flier. Twice I dialed the number and hung up before it could connect, laughing at myself and ridiculing the idea. Yet, every time I remembered why I would even consider doing it, I thought it was a good plan. After all, getting a few hundred for a couple of drinks with some spoiled jerk wasn’t too bad. And judging by the level of secrecy, no one would ever know!
So, I finally called and forced myself to sit through half a dozen rings, expecting to hear a voice of some sleazy old man, but to my surprise, it wasn’t.
“Evening. Chicago Buyer’s Club.” There was a slight European accent to the woman’s voice, but just distinguishable enough to be sexy.
“Um, evening,” I replied, realizing I had no idea what to say.
“Are you a young lady willing to take part in our Lonely Hearts event on Sunday? There is still a spot or two left for only the sexiest women.”
Intrigued by her velvety voice, I said, “Yeah. Yes, I think I am interested.” I felt like I was in a spy movie, talking in code. “I do have a lonely heart.” Wasn’t that the truth? Between taking care of Declan and working more than full time, I couldn’t even remember the last time I had felt a man’s touch.
“I believe we can help with that. Please, state your name, parameters, and, if possible, send a link to your social media profile to this number after we’re finished.”
So, I did, I was proud of my looks. A blue-eyed blonde, an ex-gymnast with curves in all the right places. I was sure they’d at least give me a good look.