"We do clubs now?" Aveline muttered, her voice laced with contempt as she stepped out of the car and into the heavy, pulsing air outside the Diamond Club. Her heels clicked against the pavement, sharp and deliberate. "Like some cheap whore?"
Ben was already waiting at the entrance, his grin a little too eager, like he'd been waiting not just for her, but for the argument too.
"Sorry," he shrugged, unbothered, "they didn't have anything decent at the hotel. You know how picky Caleb gets—it doesn't matter where it is. Club, penthouse, alleyway. You just do your job."
Aveline narrowed her eyes, arms folding tightly across her chest. "Can I get only clients from now on? I don't want to be on call for him like some kind of private plaything."
Ben raised a brow, amused. "Is that so?" he asked, tilting his head. "I thought you liked him. Thought you said he was good."
She hesitated.
"Yes… But—"
