Chapter 9

Watching the impromptu dance party unfold was perhaps the sexiest thing Jim had witnessed this month. Of all the girls, Jackie stood out. Her outfit, more an open invitation than a minidress, turned modesty into a distant memory and desire into an immediate reality. While the other girls scrambled to avoid Roxanne’s awkward, windmilling arms, Jackie made dodging look like part of the dance, lustrous brown hair framing her face. Roxanne, though a cute and fiery Latina, was undeniably an awful dancer. The way Madison gazed at her from the bar, though, Jim knew Roxanne had found her perfect match. Just as Colt, he believed, had finally found his.

Once Jackie gathered the girls mid-parlor to take a selfie before all they dispersed, Jim turned his attention to Colt on the opposite side of the bar. This whole time, Colt’s eyes had been heavy, his shoulders hunkered down, as he focused strictly on his dinner plate. Jim wondered if Colt had even noticed the wild dancing that broke out. Not too long ago, he would’ve joined in, and ultimately ushered one or two of the ladies back to his private room for a sexy romp. But now?

Colt’s mind was a whirlwind, centered entirely on one person: Dakota. No, Pamela. Even using her real name set her apart from the others. How captivating she was, the spark in her eyes, the depth of her thoughts – everything about Pamela threatened to consume him. How many eighteen-year-olds have we had pass through here who ask to visit the Hoover Dam during their first day off and then the Grand Canyon on their second? None. Generally, they wanted to go to Vegas and spend money. Clearly, she wants to see the world, explore it ... just like I do. Pamela was unique, indeed, and special. Very special.

The weight of Colt’s past indiscretions bore down on him, a relentless burden. Fuck. A parade of pretty faces flashed through his mind – women he’d charmed, used, and discarded like yesterday’s news. Sherilyn hasn’t said a word to me since I bailed on sleeping with her that night. The same night Pamela arrived. Christ, I didn’t even think twice about ditching Sherilyn and how it may affect her. When did I become such an asshole?

But with Pamela, the very thought of repeating this toxic cycle made his insides twist into knots. She deserved better. Hell, they all did, especially Sherilyn.

This time, it had to be different. Colt wanted – no, needed – to do right by Pamela. But how? In this neon-lit house of painted smiles and commodified caresses, how could he even begin? Every step felt like treading on quicksand, each a potential freefall into the abyss of past transgressions. The cosmic joke wasn’t lost on Colt, either – here he was, surrounded by a harem that would make a king envious, yet paralyzed by the fear of reaching for the one woman who mattered. No, Pamela certainly wasn’t just another conquest; she was his shot at redemption, at proving to himself he was more than his father’s son. That fucker from Chastity’s Ranch calls me The Coyote Cub.

And the prospect of failing Pamela, of tainting her like he had countless others, proved to be a terror that eclipsed any Colt had known before.

“Hey, are you okay, bud?” Jim snatched a bottle of sparkling water from the cooler and offered it.

“Huh?” Colt looked up, startled by his inner demons. “Oh, yeah. I’m fine.” He took the bottle but didn’t open it.

Jim leaned against the bar and shot his friend a glare. “I call horseshit. You’ve been staring at that ribeye steak like it holds the secrets to the universe. What’s eating you? You’ve been acting funny lately.”

“It’s nothing, man.” Colt’s hair was disheveled from raking his fingers through it repeatedly. “Just thinking.”

Jim raised an eyebrow. “About Dakota?”

Colt’s jaw twitched. “Pamela.” But then he winced.

“Pamela, huh? Since when are we on a real name basis with the girls? It’s your father’s golden rule not to be.”

“We’re not,” Colt said quickly, then paused. “I mean, I’m not. It’s just...”

“Just what? Come on, Colt. I’ve known you too long. Hell, since you were twelve. This isn’t like you. What’s going on with this girl?”

Colt struggled for words, the weight of his earlier thoughts pressing down on him. How could he explain to Jim, of all people, the turmoil he was feeling?

“You’re in love, aren’t you? Admit it.”

Colt’s eyes widened at Jim’s blunt assertion. He opened his mouth to deny it, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he hissed out a breath. “I ... I don’t know, man. Maybe? Shit.” Colt whipped his head up. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only to someone who’s known you since you were trying to sneak in here during your junior high days.” Jim folded his arms at his chest. “But seriously, bud, what are you thinking? You know the rules. Hell, you helped write half of them.”

Colt’s fingers tightened around the water bottle, the plastic crinkling under his grip. “I know, I know. It’s just ... she’s different. She’s not like the others.”

“They’re all different... until they’re not,” Jim said, his voice lowering. “Remember Lisa? Jenny? You once told me you wanted to marry both of them and live the three-way dream forever. How’d that work out for you?”

Colt made a face at the names, memories of past heartaches surfacing. “This isn’t like that. Pamela, Dakota, she’s ... I don’t know how to explain it. She makes me want to be better, you know?”

“Look, I get it.” Jim’s expression softened. “Dakota is young, she’s a breath of fresh air, she’s got that whole innocent thing going on. But at the end of the day, she’s here for a reason, same as all the others. You really want to get worked up over some girl who’s barely out of high school? The same girl who asked me this morning for three additional hours off before starting her shift because she’s still exhausted from getting fucked six ways from Sunday last night by five different guys?”

“Dammit, Jim, Dakota is not just some girl. And don’t you dare talk about her in that vein ever again.” Colt treated him with a look of unmitigated fury. “You do, and I’ll fucking fire you and blacklist you from all things LPIN. Forever. I don’t care what Dad says.” He chuffed further aggravation through an open mouth. “That’s the biggest problem we have in this godforsaken shithole. This industry is hard enough on these girls; yet me, you, and Dad only make it worse. We make it worse. I’m sick and fucking tired of treating them like they’re all interchangeable. Like they don’t matter. We should be doing whatever we can to help them, not belittle them.”

Jim recoiled, palms up. “Whoa there, crusader. Take it down a notch. I’m just trying to look out for you. You know that, right? Your dad would have a field day if he knew how you felt about Dakota. Not to mention the extra pressure he would put on her, the added scrutiny.”

Humiliation crumpled Colt’s spine. “He knows already, Jim. That old buzzard knows everything in this house.”

Jim studied Colt for a long moment. “You always were a dreamer. Just ... be careful, alright? I don’t want to see you get hurt again. Don’t do anything stupid and go jumping off the deep end, okay?”

“Too late for that. Way too late for that.” Colt spat the words through gritted teeth, finally snapping open the water bottle. “Dakota told me she is reading Notes from Underground. Dostoevsky, Jim. Can you believe that? Fucking Dostoevsky.” He took a long swig of water. “Dakota is reading nineteenth century Russian literature while all we want to do is stamp whore on her forehead and pretend that’s all she’ll ever be.” Joints crackled as his hands balled tight. “This girl is way too good for us.”

“So, tell me about yourself. What do you do?”

“Umm, I’m a software developer,” Carson Peacock said.

“Is that so?” Sherilyn’s eyebrows arched with practiced intrigue. She tilted her head, allowing a cascade of chestnut curls to fall over one shoulder. “That’s cool. So ... you work on computers and stuff like that?”

“Yeah.” After all the research he’d done, Carson knew the script as well as Sherilyn did. This banter was just a prelude, a formality before the main event. Yet he played along, adjusting and centering his eyeglasses while nursing a drink alongside her at the bar, clinging to the illusion of genuine connection as long as she would allow it to continue. “Applications, you know, design ... website applications and designs.”

“Cool. That’s cool.” Sherilyn uttered a hushed laugh. “I like computers. So, how’d you hear about me? Jim said you showed up on our doorstep twenty minutes ago and asked for be my name.”

“Well, uhh, I ... was a little nervous and shy about, you know, doing this, as I’ve only had a couple of experiences with local providers – you know, handjobs, massages – but I wanted to go all the way this time, and I was being a little picky. I came across your biography page on Happy Ending Ranch’s website and all those amazing pictures, and, you know, one thing led to another, and here I am.”

“Oh, I’m so flattered.” Sherilyn licked her lips and allowed two notes of chuckle to escape. “And you came all the way from Indiana to meet me? Wow.”

“So, I’m, uhh, just really interested in how a beautiful girl like you gets involved in, you know ... working at a brothel. How did you get started?”

“Umm, it’s just something I was always interested in. I’ve always been a really sexually open person, and I just love to try new things, and like, experience new people. Everyone has something new to offer, so I’m excited to see what you have to offer.” Sherilyn’s laughter remained subdued, yet sultry. “Looking forward to it.”