Hooked

wrong with that? You might enjoy yourself.”
    “You don’t mean a little gift.” She leaned across the table and spoke in a whisper. “You mean fuck, and I never give it away.”
    Benny expelled a raucous belly laugh loud enough for people to turn and see what exploded. “Still get right to the point, don’t you, Tawny.”
    “I don’t believe in beating around the bush. Pardon the pun. No, Benny. I’m out.”
    “What would it take?”
    Tawny had anticipated this question. She had to make it sound good but still not price herself out of the ballpark. “If I were considering, you wouldn’t agree.”
    “Try me.”
    She cocked her head in phony contemplation. “Hmm, let’s see. What could possibly tempt me? Three K an hour, no more than once a week. Twenty-five for weekends, and a hundred a week. And no freebies for the boss. The last one is non-negotiable.” She speared an egg slice, then slowly sucked it in her mouth. Her gaze never left Benny. He sat quietly. “See? I told you. You can’t afford me.”
    That’s all she had to say. She’d read Benny perfectly. He was the type who didn’t like anyone to think he couldn’t cough up the goods. He leaned back in his chair. A long sigh escaped through his nose over a very crooked half-smile.
    “My, my, you don’t make things easy, do you? You know, I don’t pay my girls directly, and I don’t take a cut. My percentage comes from the client for the connection. The ladies specify their own price, but in your case, I would arrange the price with the client beforehand, to make sure there’s no problem. That’s a lot of money for an hour of anyone’s time.”
    “That’s right. If you took a cut, you’d be a pimp. I’ve never had a pimp, and I’m not starting now.”
    “Brrr. Pimp. Ugly word. See? We’re on the same wavelength.” He drank his Dr. Brown’s cream soda. “But I’d need something more.”
    She’d set the price higher than she ever charged on her own and really didn’t think he’d bite. But the fact that he didn’t nix the arrangement right away gave her hope. She’d rejected his advances so often in the past, if she gave in too easily and didn’t put the screws on him, he’d be suspicious. “Like what?”
    “A night as hostess included, same price. Your beautiful presence would send my business into the stratosphere.”
    “Out of the question. I don’t do public engagements.”
    “Okay, then. Two hours a week at three and a half per. There might be an occasional hotel arrangement. Some of our obscenely wealthy clients feel it’s more anonymous. The rest stays as is, and it’s a deal.”
    She leaned back and sighed. She was getting more than her asking price but with an extra night’s work. She probably needed more than two nights to get the required information, but she liked that it was Benny’s idea. Even so, she hated bartering. She never did business that way.
    “Up front,” she said.
    “The end of the evening,” Benny countered. “I’m sure that’s the way you were paid. Not that anyone would renege because you’re not worth your charges but…” he smiled “business is business.”
    She’d expected that. No one paid up front, but she wanted to let Benny think he had control and the last word. Her heart thumped. She actually pulled this off. “Just so happens a close relative is sick and asked me for a loan. I’d like to help her out, but my money is tied up in investments, and I’m a little short on cash right now.”
    “Does that mean we have a deal?”
    Tawny leaned across the table, offered her hand. “Deal.”

Chapter Eleven
    Who’s Calling the Shots?

    L inc and his sometime partner, Dennis Hyde, parked across the street from the deli. It was a divide-and-conquer operation. Tawny and Cooper came outside and stood chatting on the sidewalk. The way the woman was dressed, sexy and elegant at the same time, made Linc feel like he was on a suicide mission, jumpy and tense.
    “She’s a looker, all right,” Dennis said. “Sure you don’t want me to follow her? You can take Cooper.”
    “That’s okay,” Linc said. “She knows me. A new face might make her pull back.”
    “After Myrtle Beach , exactly how well does she know you, lover boy?”
    Linc settled a beady glare on his partner. “Not that well. Besides, she’s not my type.”
    “Bull. Shit. That woman is the type for any red-blooded man with breath left in his body.” Dennis laughed. “What? She turn you