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Gregory knew that Alice hadn't seen him since Friday night. However, he saw a lot of her on Saturday. He couldn't get her out of his mind; he dreamed about her red braid in his grip and woke with a throbbing erection.

He drove to her apartment on Saturday morning, noting that the old car in her parking space now had four functional tires. The registration was still out of date. Sweet Alice must have been more broke than he thought. He sat in his car, reliving the pleasure of seeing her big, brown eyes lift to him as he choked her on his cock in the bistro restroom. He remembered the way she reluctantly accepted a reddening spanking and how tight she had been when he rammed his cock into her.

And how she had come. Something he usually didn't give a fuck about kept twisting in his mind.

So, he followed her all day. She rode a bus across town to a dingy little ice rink and he paid the ten dollars to come in and sit in the bleachers with overfed, over-indulgent parents with cameras. He melted into the crowd and just watched. Alice stayed on one side of the ice, teaching small, minimally-talented children skating skills. Then, she took a bus home. She walked to a small store and got three plastic bags of food. In another couple of hours, she boarded another bus and rode downtown. He circled the block until he saw her go into a bar. He parked and looked at her through the front window.

She bartended, too.

Three jobs. Still no car. Oh, yes. There was still plenty of opportunity for play.

#

On Monday, someone had Gregory's table at the bistro. At first it was annoying; he liked being in the back corner of Alice's section. Then, he decided that he could treat this as a bother or an opportunity.

The hostess looked at him apologetically. "Would you like table that's out of the way?" she asked, looking at a spot that most-certainly wasn't in Alice's section.

"Could I sit there?" he asked, pointing to a two-seater. It was surrounded on all sides by other tables.

"Absolutely," she said, leading him.

While Gregory waited, he watched Alice, who hadn't seen him yet. She wore the shorter skirt that she knew he liked. He scanned her ass for panty-lines. His last instruction to her had been for her to be sans panties on Monday and her compliance looked promising.

She turned to his table, obviously not expecting to see him there, and froze. She went pale. But she did stand next to his chair the way he had told her to the previous week.

"Water, no ice?" she practically whispered.

"Please, Alice."

She scurried away. He could read her body language and she was very, very nervous. She moved so quickly, she was practically running; her hands shook and her speech was quick and clipped when she checked on other tables. He didn't know if it was because of his new seating in the middle of the room or their Friday encounter, but it was making him hard, just watching her.

She hurried back and placed his glass in front of him, nearly tipping it but catching it just in time. He raised an eyebrow at her and she flushed.

"Cobb salad?" she asked.

"Please."

"Red wine vinaigrette on the side?"

"Yes."

She rushed away again. The service was as attentive as it ever was but it had a frenzied feel about it. She filled his water glass when he'd barely finished a quarter of it and hurried away without even looking at him. She placed his plate and hurried away again. It wasn't haughtiness making her act this way, he decided; it was fear. He came to the conclusion that Friday night had shaken her and he loved the feeling of power that came with it.

When he was done, she came back for his plate. He waited expectantly for the next question that she was required to ask him.

"Can I get you dessert, or would you just like your check?"

"Are you dressed the way I told you to?"

His voice was below the din, but she still gave a panicky look around. "Yes," she said.

"Then I think I'll have some pie while you figure out how to prove it to me."

Her lips fell open and she glanced at his more secluded table. There, he could have slid a hand up her thigh and known for sure if she was without panties, but that was hardly something that could be done in the middle of the dining room.

"I can't just...."

"You have a very large tip hanging in the balance, Alice. Or maybe you never want to get your car back on the road."

Again, she paled. And this time she gave him a long look. The reference to her car clearly wasn't lost on her. "Coconut cream pie?" she asked.

"Cherry this time, I think."

"I'll be right back with that."

She went away and came back with his pie, glancing around again, like she thought people must be eavesdropping. She placed it in front of him and leaned down a little so that she could speak a little lower.

"Family restroom?" she asked.

"You first."

She wiped her hands on her apron, still looking nervous but now determined, and went to the little hallway where the restroom was located. Gregory gave a ten-count and stood to follow her. The door to the restroom was unlocked so he let himself in and locked it behind him.

She stood at the back of the room, almost as far away as she could be from him.

"Let's see it," he said.

She probably didn't mean to be as seductive as she was. Her skirt was stretchy material and she eased it up very slowly, using it to hold her apron out of the way. She folded it all the way up to her waist, so he got a face-front, panty-less view of her for the first time. The coppery hair between her legs was visibly damp; there was moisture on her thighs, too.

"You're dripping for me."

He advanced a step. She back away until the wall jarred her. It was almost as gratifying as having her lips wrapped around his cock. He stopped but only because he knew there wasn't time for more.

"Isn't that right, Alice? All that cream is because of me." She didn't say anything and he gave her a stern look. "If you want your tip, you'll answer me."

She looked at him, those rows of lashes framing her brown eyes. "It's because of you."

"What is?"

She hesitated a moment. Then, said, "How wet I am."

"That's a good girl." She gave him a quick look that flashed with anger and it made his erection even harder. "Don't forget my check," he added.

He headed back to his table where the pie still waited. Slowly, he ate, keeping an eye out for Alice. She emerged less than a minute later, doing a quick round of her tables. It didn't look to Gregory that anyone noticed that she was missing. Not that he was really concerned, now that he knew the other places where she worked.

She got back to his table with the bill holder after about five minutes. "Can I get you anything else?" she asked.

"Not right now," he said.

She nodded and left the bill holder on his table. He contemplated his tip. She had come to his house and he had fucked her good and proper. She had also dressed how he told her to today. Then, there was all the butt plug fun and the spanking, which was supposed to be a punishment but deserved a little something extra. He left seven hundred in cash--entirely twenties, to make the stack just that much more impressive--and a slip of paper.

I have a job available. If you're interested, call me.

#

Alice picked up her phone, started dialing, changed her mind, and put her phone down. It was the second time that evening she had almost called the rich, stalking, psychotic bastard whose name she didn't even know. It was the second time that she had lost her nerve.

She told herself that she let him use her because she was drowning in debt. It was a reasonable excuse. Her ex-husband took the savings and left the credit cards, which were, unfortunately, in her name, too. He took the proceeds from the sale of their house. He took everything and disappeared.

So she had every excuse to do whatever she needed to do to keep her head above water. Still, she had always been a fairly decent girl. Never the sort of person for which the word 'whore' would have ever applied. She would have never sought out a situation where she was paid for sex, but now that she had a ready source of money....

It wasn't all about the money, though, and that was the thing. She was fairly sure that being a whore would be less disturbing if she didn't get off on it. But she did. She loved the degradation. She loved the spanking and the rough sex. She loved the fear. It was a humiliating insight to her own sexual preferences.

She looked at her phone again.

Finally, she bit her lip, picked it up, and dialed.

"Hello, Alice."

That voice. Never had she felt so much like she was talking to the Cheshire cat and trapped in Wonderland.

"You had a job available?" she asked.

"I do. I'm having a very small, very private dinner party. I need a server. Interested?"

He talked very slowly, like every word was extremely important and you'd better listen. Like if you missed a detail, he would hold you responsible because he spelled it out so clearly.

"When?" she asked.

"Friday night at seven."

It was almost a relief. "I'm working," she told him.

"Bartending?"

His tone taunted. It sent a jolt of electric through her because he knew about her second job in addition to knowing about her derelict car. How much stalking had this bastard done?

"Yes," she said.

"I'll make it worth your while to call off."

"Just to serve you and your friends food?"

"No, Alice. You won’t just be serving food."

There it was. The nausea and arousal unfurled in her stomach simultaneously. She wouldn't just be serving and he wouldn't be the only person there. Who knew what they would ask her to do? She needed to end this. She needed to find her self-respect.

"I don't know...."

"Your starting fee will be a grand. It will only go up from there if you stay the whole evening."

Oh, this was so unfair. But even as she wanted to reject the offer, even if she could find the financial fortitude to do so, her pussy clenched. She imagined herself between two men, three even, and something in her wanted it. She might even masturbate to the idea that night. What was wrong with her?

"How long?" she asked, her voice choked.

"Two hours for the party and a little extra time for me."

A thousand dollars for three-ish hours. "I'll be there," she said, speaking quickly.

"Wear your bistro uniform. No panties and no bra."

"All right."

"You like this, don't you? Knowing I'm going to use you for entertainment." There was the shameful truth or there was a bald faced lie. She didn't say anything. "Answer me, Alice," he said, that hint of menace in his voice.

"I like the money," she finally answered.

He chuckled; it wasn't a kind sound. "Of course you do. Don’t be late."

She hung up the phone and stared at it for a minute. But there was one good thing about working three jobs: she didn’t have time to think about the deal that she had just struck. Her next shift at the bar started at nine, so she got up and started to get ready.

#

Gregory made sure that his guests arrived before Alice. Matt and Paula. They both showed up at about six-thirty and made themselves comfortable before the shy knock came. He went to the door by himself. He didn't need her getting too nervous too early.

He opened the door partway. There she stood. "You're sure?" he said.

"Yes," she said in a low voice.

"Ask to come in."

Those big eyes with all those lashes looked up at him. "May I please come in?"

He opened the door the rest of the way and she stepped inside. She was wearing the outfit he told her to. The white shirt was so thin, he could see the shape and color of her hardened nipples. She wore the short skirt and those Mary-Janes. Her hair was in the long braid. She even donned the apron.

Her eyes widened when she saw Matt and Paula. Gregory wished he could crawl inside of that head for a few minutes. Was it because there were only two people? Was it that one of them was a woman? What had made her hesitate for that second?

"This is Alice. She's going to be our server this evening," he said, stealing from her script.

"Can she open another button?" Paula asked.

Alice looked to Gregory. He loved that she deferred to him. He gave her a slow nod and she undid another button. It showed the top of her cleavage.

"Drinks?" Gregory asked.

"Cosmopolitan," Matt said.

"Just wine for me," Paula said.

"Scotch and Soda." Gregory looked to Alice with his eyebrows raised. "The wet-bar is there," he nodded. "And the kitchen is there," he added, nodding in the other direction. She scurried off while Matt and Paula looked after her.

"She has this innocent desperation," Paula said, her eyes fixed on Alice. "It's perfect."

That’s why Gregory had always liked Paula: they had the same taste in women. Matt, on the other hand looked more interested in getting his drink. Gregory gave him a disapproving look and he jumped a little.

"She had the prerequisite number of holes, I assume?" Matt said.

"Only two available tonight," Gregory replied. "I'm restricting the use of her ass."

"Someone will be left out."

"I don't see why that needs to be the case," Gregory said in a pointed way, looking Matt up and down. His ears reddened.

Alice interrupted with the drinks on a tiny tray that Gregory had forgotten was on the wet bar. Again, she scurried away, exactly as she did in the bistro, exactly as she had in the glimpse he'd gotten of her at the bar where she worked. She gathered the cocktail shakers and took them into the kitchen.

Matt's eyes followed Alice's ass, probably more appealing now that he knew it was off-limits. "An alluring little derriere," Matt said. "I'll try to leave it alone. Shame I have no aim."

Gregory was prepared; he knew his guests. They all played the same game, but he played it best. Alice slipped back into the room and seemed startled that three pairs of eyes watched her.

"Come here, Alice," he said.

He was pleased that she obeyed quickly. From his pocket he pulled out another butt plug. Not the same one as before; this one was a size bigger. He had another of those small vials of lubrication. He lifted his eyebrows at her and she flushed. But she also bent over in a lithe, flexible movement without him even asking.

Gregory slipped Alice's skirt up over her ass. "To prevent any... mistakes," Gregory told Matt. He opened the small tube and applied it to the plug.

"Lubrication?" Paula asked. "You must really like this one."

He pushed the larger plug into her just as roughly as he had the smaller one in the Bistro bathroom. Again, he listened for her response and, again, she moaned softly. He saw her wetness just as he had seen her hardened nipples.

Gregory pulled down her skirt and patted her ass. "Get us our appetizer, Alice."

She stood, her cheeks very pink, and hurried into the kitchen. Gregory made a wide gesture. "Shall we sit?"

#

The courses were all lined up in the kitchen. Appetizer. Salad. Soup over a low flame on the stove. Some kind of meat warming in the oven. Alice grabbed the appetizer plates and balanced them on her arms, taking them out to the table.

While she served, she listened to their conversations. There was a bored-looking middle-aged man named Matt. The blonde, perfectly coiffed woman was Paula. She still didn't know the name of the man who contacted her, the host of this strange affair. Matt talked about a swinger party he hosted at his lakeside house.

She placed each of their plates, standing directly next to their chairs, the way she had been taught. Only Paula touched her, running a hand up the back of her leg and over her backside. The blonde looked at her boldly while she did it, seeming to dare her to say anything. She didn't.

Alice's heart pounded like it never had before. And, much to her distress, she throbbed with want. Every time the plug jarred inside her, it burnt and itched and sent jolts all over her sex, just as the smaller one had. The part of her that wanted to sneak out the back door was much smaller than the part of her wanted a thousand dollars and a good hard fuck.

For the thousandth time, she questioned her own sanity.

She came out to the table and caught a heated discussion between Matt and the host about the benefits of tattoos versus branding. Her stomach clenched. She gathered the plates.

"Can I get you water or another drink?" She asked the group softly.

"Water, Alice."

She hurried back to the kitchen and loaded up her little tray with ice waters--one with no ice--and delivered them. The she went back after the salad. When she entered the room, Paula had pulled down her dress and exposed one breast to show off a nipple piercing.

"I did this for Tony. They pierced me while he was fucking me from behind. That tattoo artist had the steadiest hands I ever saw. Best orgasm of my life, too."

Alice froze for just a second but it was enough to catch Paula's eye. "What do you think?" She held up her breast. Since she had to, Alice took a good look. It was a pretty breast: round and full. There was a medium sized hoop through the nipple.

"It's... very lovely," Alice said.

"Kiss it."

Alice turned to the host and he gave her another of those maddening 'go on' looks. She put down her tray and went around the table. For a quick moment, the women's eyes met, but then Alice dipped her head and kissed the nipple open-mouthed. She played with the ring with her tongue. She dragged her lips over the skin and felt it pucker. Knowing that the two men were watching and hearing Paula's soft pleasure just made the throbbing instance worse.

"I think I want her mouth tonight," Paula said, adjusting her breasts back into her dress.

Alice returned to her tray and delivered the salads. The insides of her thighs were wet. When she returned to the kitchen, she heard small sounds of refined laughter and knew it must be directed at her.

Soup and main course left. Almost an hour gone by already. She could do this. She filled their water glasses when they were thankfully talking of their recent trips to various parts of France. She gathered their salad plates without incidence and delivered their soup.

She did the dishes quickly and her timing was nearly perfect for getting out their main course. One at a time, carried with a kitchen rag. She filled their water glasses again.

"Anything else for you?" she asked.

"Not yet, Alice."

She hurried back to the kitchen. These three people left nothing on any of their plates. They left nothing in any glass. It was like they couldn't wait to glut themselves on anything put in front of them. She bit her lip and finished washing the soup bowls.

When she heard the finishing clinks of heavy silverware on fine China, she hurried out of the kitchen. Again, every bite was eaten. She gathered each plate, all eyes on her.

"Come back after you place those in the kitchen," the host said.

Alice met his eyes and gave a little nod. She tried not to hurry any more or less than she ever did but she allow herself a minute to draw a deep breath or two in the kitchen. Then, she went back into the dining room where everyone was waiting. Since he was the one paying her, she presented herself to the host.

He slipped a hand up the inside of her thigh and cupped her naked pussy. "I think we've established that this belongs to me, correct?"

He massaged her through her folds of flesh in a way that made her get wetter.

"Yes," she whispered.

"Get on the table," he said.

She sat on the edge of the table facing him and he backed away. Paula took his place and her hands went, without hesitation, to Alice's shirt, unfastening the rest of her buttons. She slipped the blouse off of her shoulders.

"And to think, we could have gone all night without even noticing these gorgeous tits," she said, pinching them. Alice couldn't help but make small sounds. She clenched on the butt plug and her pussy just grew slicker. "Have you ever eaten out a woman, Alice?" Paula asked.

"No."

Paula pushed her onto her back, pulled her hips to the edge of the table, and climbed on the table to straddle her waist.

"I hope you're a quick learner," Paula told her.

She scooted up Alice's body and hitched up her skirt, hovering over her face. Like Alice, she wore nothing underneath. Paula spread and lowered herself. Alice inhaled her humid arousal and drew an experimental tongue over her.

She was soft and slick, like the inside of a mouth. And she tasted smoky and salty. Alice licked again, recognizing the ridges and folds, though they were new from this angle. Still, she found that flesh just above the most sensitive knot of flesh and worked it with her tongue, making a wide circle, hoping she hit a good spot. Paula's thighs widened.

"Oh, fuck, that's nice," Paula gasped from over her head.

As Alice worked, she heard other things, too.

"You're sure you won't compromise on this?" It was Matt's voice, so she assumed it was he who pushed her skirt up, her legs back, and tweaked her plug, making her moan.

"That's right, Baby Girl," Paula said, her hips swaying.

"I'm afraid not," the host replied. "Think of it this way. You're getting your dick wet."

"And that's all," Matt grumbled.

"I'll make sure you get off."

Hands manipulated her legs and pushed them wide. She concentrated on her mouth because it was the only thing she could control. It was Matt between her legs; his grip on her skin wasn't as stringent as the host's. He steadied her with two hands and entered her.

She barely felt it.

She clenched around him just to be sure that she was, in fact, penetrated. When she did, he moaned. So, while she worked her tongue, and now lips, against Paula's ever drooping sex, she concentrated on keeping herself tight for Matt. And, in spite of her intense level of arousal, she knew that there was no Earthly way she would orgasm. She set up a lapping rhythm against Paula's pussy and Paula's moans increased in volume.

"She's too fucking wet," Matt grumbled.

But then, his lackluster thrusts suddenly became harder. Pounding. Still no more stimulating, though.

"Gregory, Jesus," Matt grunted. "Easy."

"Fuck easy. This is what you like."

Knowing what was happening between her legs, kept Alice's tongue enthusiastic. Paula moved against her in a grinding motion and she tried to work her tongue against a moving target. It didn't matter. Paula cried out, her voice possibly carrying to outside, shuddered all around Alice, and dripped onto her chin. Then, she fell forward, almost smothering her for a moment, before she crawled backwards.

Paula smirked at Alice. "You are a fast learner," she said before she waggled her ass in the direction of the men. "Hey, Matt. You want this?"

"If you're offering," he gasped.

Matt withdrew from Alice and Paula slid off the table at the end, bending over, still between Alice's legs, and still draped over her on the table. Her fingers played over Alice's skin, which was maddening. There wasn't even Matt's slender penetration to ease her want.

Paula jarred a little when Matt thrust into her and Alice watched the pleasure on her face with some fascination. Her eyes closed and her back arched, like this was a position and act she craved. She forced Alice's hand between her legs and Alice found the wet sloppiness easy and slippery to work. Then, Paula rested her hands on Alice's breast, squeezing them as the movement grew more forceful.

Alice felt all the turgor come back to Paula's sex: it was puffy and swollen and dripping again. Alice had a handle on what she was doing this time and before long, Paula's grip on her breasts was almost painfully strong. Then, she shuddered, dropped her head to Alice's chest, and shuddered again, yelling loudly once more.

In a few more thrusts, Alice heard what could only be Matt's orgasm, in grunts and gasps. Movement slowed. She looked up and saw the three of them in sequence: first Paula, flushed and pleased looking; then Matt, looking fiercely satisfied; and finally the man she now knew as Gregory looking as unruffled as ever.

"Excellent dessert, Gregory," Paula commented, slowly getting up.

"Indeed," Matt added.

"I'm pleased if you're pleased," Gregory said, looking down at Alice. She didn't know what to make of that statement. Nor how his face showed neither pleasure nor disapproval. "Wash the dinner plates," he told her. "There's bleach wipes under the sink for the dining room table. Clean it twice."

Alice nodded, put her shirt back on, readjusted her skirt and apron, and slid off the table still feeling where Paula's wetness had dried to powder on her cheeks and chin.

#

Gregory kissed Paula and Matt at the door on both cheeks. He heard Alice bustling around but knew she wouldn't leave until she had her money, so he was in no rush.

"Will Alice be joining us again?" Paula asked.

"I haven't decided, yet," Gregory replied.

"Let me know if you get tired of her. I have a half-million dollar divorce settlement burning a hole in my clutch."

Gregory wasn't sure he liked her tone but he had long since decided it wasn't worth the effort to try to control Paula. Instead he turned to Matt, liking the three inches of height he had on the man.

"I doubt I'll get bored with all of the other amusements available to me."

Matt looked the slightest bit uncomfortable. Just exactly where Gregory liked to keep him. This was a man who didn't get fucked up the ass by other men. And he certainly didn't like that he enjoyed it when Gregory did it. It was only occasional, but it was always gratifying, even if this time Gregory had held back his orgasm.

They said their very cordial good-byes and Gregory returned to his dining room, where Alice used both bleach wipes and paper towels with water to clean the table. She gave him another of those fearful looks that he very much liked and he noted that she hadn't looked as fearful with his other guests around. The thought pleased him immensely.

"First or second wash?" he asked.

"Second," she practically whispered.

"And the dishes?"

"Done and stacked. I couldn't put them away without rummaging through your cabinets."

He reached inside the drawer of his writing desk in the corner and pulled out a stack of money. "Here's a thousand." He sat it on the top of the desk. "I'll give you another grand for that ass of yours." That little wrinkle formed between her eyebrows. It made his dick ache more. "Right now, Alice, or not at all."

"Yes, then," she said in that throaty voice.

He led her to a guest room with a bed and looked her up and down. "Take off your clothes," he said. She hurried to obey. "Bend over the bed," he added. She did so in a graceful, liquid movement.

Finally, he had the view he'd been wanting: the heart shaped ass flaring below her snip of a waist. All offered willingly to him. He tweaked the plug in her ass and she trembled.

"I'm impressed," he told her. "You're quite the little whore." She didn't answer and he slapped her ass hard. She moaned. "Say it, Alice."

"I'm quite the little whore," she said softly.

Gregory rolled on a condom and lubricated it. In a single, sudden movement, he pulled her plug out of her ass. The cry she made was somewhere between pleasure and pain. Before her muscles could contract back to a tight, little ring, he placed the head of his cock at her opening and pushed.

It was as snug as he had dreamed. Within five or six thrusts, and the corresponding whimpers from Alice, her body adjusted. She offered her ass rather than presenting it. He gripped her braid, as he had in his dream the previous weekend, and used her the way he'd been wanting to.

But, his mind kept going to back to that orgasm when he had fucked her against a wall. The one where she had gripped him with her pleasure. He could imagine that sensation in this particular entrance to a perfect certainty and wanted it. So, while he enjoyed that smooth, pale skin and that long, red braid, he stopped before he was done and withdrew.

"Turn over," he told her.

She obeyed and he pushed her legs back until her hips rolled into position for him, making her ass crack part in a demure way. He loomed over her even more like this, able to touch her anywhere, though he only steadied her hips. Then, he split her in a single thrust.

This entry was easier and it gave him the added perk of seeing her distressed pleasure. Also, she was very, very wet. Dripping all over his dick, now that gravity was on his side. She wasn't used to face-to-face with him and obviously didn't know where to look, which was another turn-on.

"Look at me," he instructed and she immediately obeyed.

He leaned forward and put a loose hand around her neck, just curious to see what she'd do. There was a flash of surprised fear, then she lifted her chin. She lifted her fucking chin. He tightened his hand--not even enough to restrict her breathing--and her ass clenched him.

"Fuck," he hissed.

He thrust harder and used his right hand to stroke her. Her plump lips made a perfect 'o'. Her ass sporadically clenched and released, nearly sending him. But he managed to hold out. He used her fluids to slide his fingers over every sensitive spot and gripped her neck off-and-on, never holding it for long but seeing her pleased confusion every time.

He could tell when she started to come. Both hands gripped the duvet. The contractions around his dick grew rhythmic. He tightened his grip on her neck, quickened his stroke, and got the payoff that he had been wanting. She tightened down on him, even deeper in where he usually didn't get much sensation. And that tight little ring milked him like no virgin asshole ever had. He couldn't hold back his orgasm. He didn't want to. And he caught the last of hers to start his.

He let go of her neck and those long eyelashes fluttered at him. Her eyes were a little unfocused but she stayed conscious and it kept her tight. He grunted out his last in her, withdrawing so quickly that her body twitched.

He had to admit it. She made him sweat and that almost never happened.

"Get dressed," he told her, straightening up his slacks and leaving her alone in the room.

#

Alice put her clothes back on. Her legs were steady enough, given that she'd just been fucked and choked. In fact, there was an all-over body relaxation that shocked the hell out of her. She refused to think about what she'd done for her pay tonight or how much she'd liked it.

She went into the living room and he waited there with a stack of money. He handed it to her. "Count it if you like."

She gave him a swift look and did just that. Twenty-four hundred dollars, was the grand total. Twenty-four hundred. For the first time in two years, she knew she'd make both the rent and the electric for this month and the next.

"So, are you available for parties?" he asked her.

She looked at the money and looked at Gregory. "Yes."

"Good."

"Can I...?" She lost her nerve two words in. He didn't help her find it either, but he did wait a moment before leading her to the door. "Can I ask for something as my pay?"

"You can ask."

"You seem like a man with... resources. I need to find my ex-husband."

There was an almost imperceptible shift in his expression that sharpened him, like a hawk. "How much money does he owe you?" Gregory asked.

He was quick. She hesitated but there really wasn't any point in lying. "About fifty thousand."

"Why would I do that? It would ruin our little arrangement."

Alice looked away. "I'm sorry. Never mind." She headed for the door.

"Alice?" he said. She turned. "Keep your Friday nights open."