About Last Night (About Last Night #1)(10)
Subject: RE: RE: Running + wine = sleep
Quinn,
A black silken teddy with lace and frill.
Sexy and I know it,
Maya
I smirked at my response, knowing Quinn would know I was lying. So when my phone chirped again and I read the reply, I laughed. Loudly.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: RE: RE: RE: Running + wine = sleep.
Maya is a lie-a,
Give it to me straight.
What am I working with, doll?
Help me out here,
Quinn is a pervert x
I grinned, and with another quick glance at my attire, I found myself being honest.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: Running + wine = sleep
Sir Quinn,
You got me. Honesty this time.
I’m wearing an old, baggy white threadbare t-shirt that I have slept in for years. It’s tattered and ugly, and absolutely perfect.
Lady Maya
I smiled until I got a response.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Interesting.
I like it.
Is that the real you, Maya?
Loving the less than lovable things in the world?
Curious,
Quinn
Whoa. Too deep. Especially for…
I checked the time on my cell.
…Especially for 8:29 a.m. And so I lied.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: On the run.
Sorry, I’m on the way to work.
Talk later?
Maya x
His response made my stomach flip around.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: RE: On the run.
Talking to you over the past few days has been a treat. You don’t need an invitation, Maya.
If you get bored with your day, text me at 732-757-2922.
Always got time,
Quinn
It was a bad idea. I knew I shouldn’t, but I was too far-gone in all that was Matt Quinn. Switching from email to text, I wrote:
Me: Now you have my number too. Maya x
Not a second passed before I got a response.
Quinn: Good. Now get to work, woman.
Obviously, I didn’t get to work. Instead, I called DFT, and when reception answered, I made my request.
“Hi, I’m wondering if you can tell me what Quinn’s schedule is looking like for next week sometime?”
The receptionist sounded very motherly when she responded, “I’m sorry, dear, but he’s booked out up until next month. He’s quite popular. Perhaps there’s another one of our boys who will suit you? Sorry, dear, what did you say your name was?”
Well, damn. I’d known he would be popular, just not that popular. Crestfallen, I mumbled, “Mia—” I forced a coughing fit before smacking my head and giving my false name. “Uh…Maya. My name is Maya.”
The receptionist took on a cheery tone. “Well, as a matter of fact, Maya, he’s just had a cancellation this very moment. How does Sunday night at six pm sound?”
Oh, God, what luck! I jumped on the opportunity. “Yes! Absolutely, book me in please.”
The receptionist chuckled. “I thought you’d say that.” Another moment and she added, “Great. You’re booked in. If you’ll provide an email address, I’ll send through all the details, along with a questionnaire of your preferences. I’ll also require a credit card with a limit of two thousand dollars or more that is not within three months of expiry. And, for safety reasons, I will need you to scan and email through a valid form of identification.”
Identification?
I blanched. No. I suddenly couldn’t do this. If Quinn saw my ID, he’d know who I was and would never take me on as a client. Swallowing hard, I stuttered, “I-i-identification?”
I heard the smile in the receptionist’s voice when she responded, “Yes, ma’am.” I was just about to cancel, when she said, “Honey, we don’t expect you to book under your real name. A lot of women don’t for a number of reasons. But before you withdraw, I’ll let you know that no one will see your identification. No one but me. The boys don’t have access to my email, and once I receive the picture, I print it and add it to the others, put it under lock and key, and then the email is deleted. At DFT, we pride ourselves on our discretion. We’ve never had a breach of security. Not once.”
I hesitated. “I don’t know—”
But I was cut off by, “You wouldn’t believe our client list. Not even if I told you. Government officials, celebrities, pop stars…and you’ll never find out who.”
Well, that did it. “Okay. Right. Okay. Here’s my email.”
I prattled off my email and credit card details, sent off a scanned picture of my identification, and waited. I didn’t wait long before I received an email from Candace at DFT confirming my reservation with Quinn.