Chapter 7

Tori

It was odd how I could be smack dab in the middle of Hollywood's hottest underground club, surrounded by so many people, and still feel so incredibly alone. There wasn't another feeling quite like being in the middle of a crowd—yet aching with loneliness. But that was my daily reality, ever since I moved to the Los Angeles area almost a year ago.

You'd think by now I'd be well-adjusted and happy, living it up and enjoying the new opportunities I'd found along the way.

Yeah, not so much.

Still, being at work was better than being home alone in my tiny apartment that barely had enough room to turn around. West L.A. rental prices were enough to make your eyes bleed.

Working the bar at Parkston's was a better paying job than most other bars in Hollywood. Parkston's was very exclusive and only allowed members who were of a certain…caliber. Meaning, flush. And, given the nature of the club, most of the men—and some of the women—who came in were more than willing to hand over wads of cash and flash their black AMEX cards to show their appreciation of my assets.

At least I didn't have to take my damn clothes off. Sure, working in a sex club required a certain dress code, but all the important bits were covered. Reed and Paige Parkston kept things classy. There were no stripper poles, go-go cages, or pools of jello. It was a stark contrast to the last place I worked.

When I left Kentucky, I worked at a little hole-in-the-wall bar in downtown Los Angeles. One day, the owner—a real shithead—decided he was losing too much money and gave the place a facelift. Which included—you guessed it: jello pools, stripper poles, and a lot of strobe lights.

He said I didn't have to strip—although I was a professional dancer. But when my income shrank even further than what it had been before the remodel, I took to the stage one night to make a little extra cash. I began my descent down a slippery slope into a life I hated.

Then Reed and Paige found me, two knights in shining armor with white horses to boot. I didn't know what they were doing at a skanky L.A. nightclub, but it didn't matter. I was just thankful they showed up. After I served them drinks, before taking the stage for my turn, we got to talking. By the end of the night, they offered me a job.

At first, I didn't know what kind of club they ran, but after a little word of mouth research, I discovered that Parkston's On the Hill was a sex club for millionaires—and billionaires. So, two days after that, I called them, ready to back out of their offer—imagining the worst. But Paige convinced me to at least come by and see for myself what it was all about.

By the end of that first night, I was sold. Thanks to the power of the numbers they were willing to offer as my base salary, not including tips.

Yeah, Reed and Paige were my kinky guardian angels.

"Hey, girl!"

I turned at Paige's warm, sunshine voice as she sauntered into the back room. Paige was in a good mood. I could see it in her eyes. She and Reed had probably just finished up a little party for two in a private room. I grinned at her and cocked my head. "Having a good night?"

Paige giggled and brushed her golden curls away from her face, revealing slightly flushed cheeks. "I'm pleading the fifth."

I laughed and looked back down at the paperwork in front of me, shaking my head slightly. I'd never met a married couple that got it on as much as they did. "You two are too much."

Paige laughed and sat at the desk on the other side of the room. The back office was primarily where they worked on payroll, HR matters, and making business-related phone calls they didn't want to have out on the floor.

Over the eight months I worked at Parkston's, I went from starting as a weekend bartender to the weekend manager. The position came with a higher paycheck but also a lot of additional responsibilities. As a result, I frequently used the office to get some peace and quiet when placing orders, going over night tallies, or counting the till. It was a busy Saturday night, but things were starting to wind down, so I'd left Sydney in charge of the bar and returned to the office.

"Whatcha working on over there?"

I spun around in the office chair to face Paige. "The receipts from tonight's orders. Looks like Richie Dalton was throwing another party in his private room."

"Aha." Paige nodded and leaned back in her chair, fiddling with a sleek ballpoint pen. "That's every weekend for the last three months or so, isn't it?"

I grabbed the tablet from the desk and flipped through the electronic registries. I consulted it carefully, wanting to make sure I was giving Paige the correct information. She was one of the sweetest people I'd ever met. Still, she also gave off an air of authority that made me double-check everything to make sure I was spot on before answering her questions.

"Yeah…almost four months." I set the tablet aside. "What does he do again?"

Richie Dalton dropped some serious cash at the club. Lately, he reserved his own room, and a crowd of interesting characters came and went from the private gatherings. I knew what went on inside the walls of the red room since I'd ventured in a few times, but I avoided spending any time in the VIP rooms so I wouldn't be mistaken for one of the entertainers. Something about Richie Dalton gave me pause, and while I was curious, there was something else that told me to keep my distance.

"He says he's in the art business, but I don't know if I buy that. He just doesn't look like an art guy. Usually, they're more…oh…I don't know…metro. You know what I mean?"

I nodded, and Paige tapped her pen on the top of the desk, thinking for a long moment. "I'm not a hundred percent sure what he's into, but Reed and he speak regularly. I trust Reed; therefore, to some degree, I trust Richie. If nothing else, he brings a lot of business to the club and pays his bills on time. Which, at the end of the day, is what really matters."

I nodded slowly. "Right. Reed would know if he was shady."

"Agreed." Paige smiled. "He's a good judge of character, Avery."

Avery.

I wondered if the name would ever sound right to me. It had been mine for over a year, but still, I paused every time someone used it to remind myself not to look over my shoulder.

Avery Wilder.

Why had I even chosen that name? It was like when you complimented someone on a tattoo, imagining some sort of beautiful back story to the choice, only to find out that it was simply the first one they liked from the artist's sample book.

Avery was just a name. Chosen from a list of five possibilities for a witness protection service contract. At the time, it sounded good. Now, it grated on me. I didn't want to be Avery Wilder from Kentucky. I wanted to be Tori Barnes from Las Vegas. I wanted to be me.

That was never going to happen again.

I was stuck as Avery, probably for the rest of my life.

"You okay, girl?" Paige asked, a wrinkle of concern on her usually smooth brow.

I plastered a smile on my face and nodded. "Yeah, just a little tired, I guess. My neighbors have been throwing house parties every night this week."

That was the thing I hated most about being Avery. Avery had to lie constantly. She couldn't tell the truth about who she was, what she was feeling, or where she really came from. Avery didn't come from a broken home or have a brother. No, she had a binder of facts that she had to memorize to the point that it felt real. She was an only child, and her parents lived in Kentucky.

Reed and Paige felt like friends to me, or at least the closest thing I'd had in recent memory, but how close could we really be when they didn't know anything about me? I was like some kind of living, breathing imaginary friend. I wasn't real. I was the figment of some profiler's imagination.

"You need to move to a new apartment, girl. I'm telling you, Reed's real estate guy is a genius. He could find you something like that," she said, adding a snap for dramatic emphasis.

"I have some leads," I lied.

Paige nodded. "Good for you. Just let us know if you need any help, okay? You can even borrow some of the security guys when it comes time to move."

I laughed. "Okay, thanks."

"Shirtless, if you want," Paige teased. At least, I thought she was teasing.

"Noted!"

Paige cocked her head. "How come I never hear about a boyfriend? A pretty girl like you should be beating them off with a stick! I see how the guys here look at you. Now, you know we don't really encourage dating clients, but I can't imagine it's not the same no matter where you go. When was the last time you were with someone?"

I dragged in a deep breath. Bennett Marshon's face appeared behind my eyes as I blinked, and I wanted to keep my eyes closed and get lost in the image of him. He was my first real love. And, subsequently, my first heartbreak.

"Oh, honey," Paige said quickly, sensing it was a sore topic at the tight expression on my face. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pried. You know how I get. Too nosy for my own good. It makes me a hell of a lawyer, but sometimes a real pain in the ass."

I laughed softly. "No, you're not. I just don't really like talking about my last boyfriend. Well…I don't even know if that's what he was."

Paige gave a knowing nod, and I wondered what her dating life had been like before she met Reed. It was hard to imagine her with anyone else. They were so perfect together. It was like no one but Reed could have ever been by her side. But surely that wasn't the case. I was about to ask, to get the spotlight off of myself, when Paige shifted the topic.

"Well, if you're interested…" she giggled, her eyes flashing with mischief. "We have some pretty good eye candy prowling around the club tonight. There's this new guy Richie's been hanging around with. His name is Eric. Reed and I met him a few nights ago."

"Eric?" I turned the name over in my mind. Had I met him? It sounded familiar. Working the bar meant that I met most of the people that came into the club at one point. Sure, it was a sex club, but it was also a place the exclusive members and even celebrities liked to come to when they wanted a nice place for a drink.

Paige grinned at me. "Mmhmm, and girl, I'm telling you, if I was single…" She shivered her shoulders.

I laughed and reached for the phone to start making the order so the bar would be well-stocked for the following weekend. Before I dialed, I shot another look at Paige. "He's with Richie?"

Paige nodded. "At least, he was when we met him. I think he used a guest pass or something. He's not a member…yet."

I didn't say it to Paige, but if this Eric guy was a friend of Richie's, I wasn't really interested. Richie gave me the creeps, and anyone associated with him would likely have the same effect.

Besides, I wasn't Tori anymore. I was Avery.

And Avery didn't have room for a relationship. Her life was complicated enough as it was.