Gambling For The Virgin:A Dark Billionaire Romance(110)

"You're lucky you weren't at the club last night," she says. "Some guy  tried to pick me up like a bowling ball right on the stage. I lost my  shit-like, really lost it, Ash."

"What happened?" I ask, my eyes going wide. And then I do a double take.  "And what were you even doing on stage? You're a house mom!"

Yasmine laughs.

"Just because I'm 35 doesn't mean that I can't dance from time to time,  baby," she says with an arched eyebrow. "Besides it makes me feel sexy."

Oh wow. Now this is just what I need to get my mind off of missing Arsen.

"Feel sexy, Yasmine?" I ask, and lean in. "Who is he? Don't tell me it's one of the bouncers again!"

Again, Yasmine laughs and takes a sip of her champagne.

"Hardly," she says. "And I can't tell you. Call it attorney-client confidentiality."

"So, he's a lawyer?" I ask. She just smiles at me and stays silent.  After a moment, I move on. "So what happened to the guy who tried to  pick you up literally?"

"I hit him. Repeatedly. And then the bouncers showed up and asked me  what the hell was going on. I had to recount the whole thing to them,  and they asked me if I hit him open palmed-like a slap-or close fisted.  Do I look like I'd slap someone?"

I watch as she balls her fist in reenactment. She has a point. Despite  her small size, she's got a hard exterior. Cross her or her dancers, and  she'll come after you with the power of a MAC truck.

"No, you're right. I could picture you close fisting that asshole."

"It's like letting a dog piss in the middle of your living room, you  know? Sure, I could've let the bouncer take care of him, but then he'd  never learn. He'd do it again to some other girl, in some other club,  and the cycle would never end."

"I guess you've got a point."

"I swear I need to get out of that place. The money's good, except on  Mondays. Can you believe I danced for a solid 45 minutes and only made  $25 on Monday? If that were a Friday night, I'd have made $500. My  family keeps asking me when I'm going to get a real job-they know what I  do, but they pretend like they don't. It's always awkward."

I nod my head in agreement. I can understand where she's coming from. I  couldn't even tell my family about it. They still think I'm serving  coffee somewhere while I try finding a place to put my Art History  degree from Yale to use. But let's be real-serving coffee won't pay NYC  rents.

"Anyways, enough about me," she continues. "You're lucky you got out  when you did. It was a smart move. Sit in bed all day at talk dirty on  the phone. I'm glad one of my girls got out."

"I'm not so sure," I say, shaking my head and looking down at the last  bits of my pastry. I don't even want to look Yasmine in the eyes, in  fear she'll recognize something in me that I haven't even admitted to  myself.

"What's that supposed to mean? I thought you were doing great at  Simulated Pleasures? Aren't you one of the highest grossing operators?"

"I am, but it's complicated."

"How complicated can it be? You take a call, act as part seductress and  part therapist for as long as possible, and get them off. Voila!"

"It's been a crazy last couple of days."

"So what-you have some crazy stalker now calling at all hours of the  night? Keep him on the line and rack up those minutes, girl."

"It's not a stalker. I'm falling for one of my clients."

"You can't be serious?"

"Serious as a heart attack."

"Rule number one, never fall for a client, especially not over the  phone! Ashley, come on! He can be anyone. You don't know him at all.  You've never even seen the guy. He could be an ex-con with a tattooed  face for all you know."

"Actually, you're wrong. I do know who he is, and that's the problem."

I watch as she chokes on her champagne. "Now you've lost me. I don't understand."

"Do you remember Arsen from Scorcher's? Intensely blue eyes, hot body, and billion dollar playboy?"

"THE Arsen Hawke? Sure. I mean, who could forget a guy like that? So, where's this going?"

"Well, last night I found out that Arsen is the client. He's the same  person. But he's been hiding that from me for weeks. For countless  calls, he's been calling my direct phone sex line and masquerading as a  'King Henry.' We were having the most mind-blowing phone sex. I mean, I  was supposed to be getting him off, and yet, there he was, making me  come so hard every time. It was like he could read my mind. I couldn't  get him out of my head. But as this was all happening, I was meeting up  with Arsen-dinner, drinks, sex, and I found myself falling in love with  him. But then I started pulling away from Arsen when I realized I was  falling for a man on the other end of my phone too. It all became so  emotionally confusing. It didn't feel right to be falling in love with  two separate people."

"Wait a minute. You're in love with Arsen Hawke?" Yasmine asks, eyes  wide in disbelief, and seemingly ignoring a good majority of my story.         

     



 

I nod my head but before I can respond she says, "You and ever other  girl in New York City! Come on Ashley, he's the biggest playboy in this  city!"

"That's the thing. I think he loves me too-at least that's what he'd  said. I've really fallen for him …  well, until a few nights ago anyways.  Now I don't know what to think."

"What happened last night?" she asks.

I stare off at the happy couples brunching, smiling, drinking their $6  orange juices, as I recall the events of the Boathouse. "That's when  everything came crashing to the surface like some horrific car accident.  He admitted to me that he was the man calling into my sex line. He said  it so casually, as if it were the easiest thing in the world. I can  still hear him ask me, 'is it King Henry?' and right as those words left  his mouth, it felt like my entire world was shattering. I knew he  wasn't lying-he couldn't have possibly known about that caller any other  way-and it felt like everything I'd known was a lie."

Yasmine takes a sip of her champagne and pushes her croissant around her  plate a bit with the tips of her fake, neon-pink nails. "I don't know …   it just sounds so weird, don't you think? The whole notion that you can  fall in love with someone just over the phone."

"I don't want to sound cheesy, but until last night, nothing felt weird at all-it all felt like fate, Yas."

"Fine, fine," she says, throwing in the towel to her argument. "So  what's the problem? You're being an idiot. That's what I think. Go get  Mr. Perfect. You loved him on the phone, and you loved him in real  life."

"How can you say that? You make it sound so easy. I was lied to, remember? He knew all along what he was doing."

"You're over reacting. I get that it hurts to be lied to-I mean, that'd  piss me off too, but the bottom line is you're in love with the same  person. You pulled away from Arsen after you slept with him, and it's  obvious that he was just trying to find another way to get close to  you."

"I don't know …  it still feels so …  wrong. I said things …  did things …  that were so personal on the phone."

"Listen, Ashley baby," Yasmine says. "I've known Arsen Hawke a lot  longer than you. And let me tell you that before he met you, that man  knew how to tear shit up."

"Yeah, I know," I say to Yasmine resignedly. "I know I could make him happy though."

"You did from the moment he met you, now that I'm remembering that far back," Yasmine says.

That stops me up short. I look at her and lean in closer.

"What are you talking about, Yas?" I ask.

She's silent. I wait. She looks at me. Finally she sighs. "Alright,  fine," she says. "You know that Arsen's dad used to own the club before  he died. He started the whole empire."

I nod to Yasmine. Arsen has told me all this.

"Well, Arsen used to come in and fuck the girls if they wanted a ride,  you know? Kind of like a welcome committee. Not all of them, and not  every time. But he's been known to wet his whistle with a Scorcher's  girl quite a few times," Yasmine says. What she's saying isn't a secret.  I used to hear girls talk about Arsen in the dressing rooms. About his  body. His appetites. His giant cock. "But what you don't know is that  the night you left early, like a week later he came back."

Now I'm curious as Yasmine continues. "Comes in and I think oh, maybe  it's time for me to finally take big boy for a ride, and I'm flirting  with him."

I wince as I think about Yasmine sharing the same man that I love but  she continues. "Motherfucker completely shot me down," she says.  "Instead asks me if I knew where that pretty blonde haired girl with a  nice tits and hot ass and blue eyes went. I told him she didn't work at  Scorcher's no more. That I sent her over to work at Simulated  Pleasures."