Sydny sipped a brandy. “Okay. Like I said, Adam’s one of the good guys.” In this light and with her harsh makeup off, she looked more alluring than she had wrapped around the shining pole. “Some of ’em can get a little, you know, out of control.” She grimaced. “I’ve got the bruises to prove it.”

Julie was appalled. “They beat you?”

“God, no. If they did the bouncers would take care of ’em. But slapping? Hell, yeah, sometimes.”

“I didn’t see any marks on you.”

“Never my face—my thighs, butt, and tits, in the heat of it all.” She made a wry face. “Makeup, kitten. Makeup hides a multitude of sins.”

Julie sipped at her cup. The coffee was delicious—dark and strong. “So tell me about Adam.”

Sydny shrugged. “What’s to tell?”

“Adam ever talk to you about his job?”

“Just that he always gets the bad guys he goes after.”

“I’m curious, why do you think Adam comes to see you? Is he in an unhappy marriage?”

Sydny sat back, thought about this for a minute. “Well, most of the guys, they’re married, for sure. For them it’s simple. They’re looking for something their wives can’t—or maybe won’t—give them.”

“Sex, right?”

Sydny regarded her for a moment before bursting into laughter. “Wow, what you don’t know about my business could fill the Library of Congress.”

Managing to brush aside the jibe, Julie said, “Enlighten me, then.”

“Sex, sure. But sex is just part of it,” Sydny said. “Scratch the surface and here’s what you get: what these guys really need is someone to pay attention to them, someone who while they’re with them makes them feel like a million bucks, like they’re the most important person in the world.”

“But it’s all fake!”

Sydny laughed. “Jesus, what isn’t in life?”

Julie thought that sounded insane. Everything she knew was right and true and real. Wasn’t it? Or was it? How about the blow jobs she gave King. She faked liking them. She also faked other things in bed. The thought that Sydny might be on to something gave her the willies.

“And what about Adam?” she said to get her brain onto a less frightening track.

“Adam?” Sydny finished off her brandy, raised her arm for the waitress to see, pointed to her empty snifter, calling for another. “That man isn’t married—nowhere near it.”

“He tell you that?”

“Hell, no,” Sydny said. “A good part of my business is reading people—especially men. I’m aces at it. Shit, you can’t make money here if you can’t. No, Adam’s on his own.”

“So he’s just lonely—or horny—or both.”

“I might’ve said that, until the last time he came in.”

“When was that?”

“Couple nights ago.”

“What happened?”

“To begin with, nothing. He came in and, like always, sat and watched my show. We made eye contact, like we always do. Then, like always, he took me into Heaven and I started out giving him a lap dance.” Her eyes squinted up and the tip of her tongue appeared between her teeth as she concentrated, making her look like a little girl. “That’s where things went south.”