The guy was an utter civilian—in other words, he would have looked absolutely fine anywhere else but here in Gothlandia. He was over six feet tall, with brown hair and brown eyes, and he smelled of Calvin Klein’s Eternity for Men—an old-school favorite that suggested he wasn’t all that suave, but at least had a good enough nose. His clothes were nice, but not over-the-top, and he didn’t have a wedding band.

The conversation about the transaction was stilted and awkward, and he blushed the entire time, so it was clear he’d not only never done this before, but had never pictured himself in the position of exchanging money for sex.

Join the club, she thought.

He followed her into one of the bathrooms, and in a characteristic warping of reality, she felt as if she were disembodied and walking two steps behind, watching the pair of them go behind the closed door.

Inside the cramped space, she took the money he offered, tucking it into the hidden pocket inside her skirt, and then she stepped into him, her body cold as ice, her hand trembling as it brushed up his arm. Stretching her lips into a fake smile, she braced herself for him to touch her, forcing her body to stay where it was, praying that her self-control was enough so that she didn’t run out screaming.

“My name’s Rob,” the john said in a nervous voice. “What’s yours?”

All at once the bathroom closed in, the deep purple and black walls going trash-compactor on her and squeezing her tight, making her want to yell for help so someone, anyone would stop them.

Swallowing hard, Marie-Terese gathered herself and blinked fast in the hope that clearing her eyes would help cleanse her brain and get her back on track.

When she leaned in, the man frowned and pulled away.

“Changed your mind?” she said, wishing that he had, even though it would just mean she’d have to head out and find another one.

He seemed perplexed. “Ah…you’re crying.”

Recoiling, she looked around his shoulder at the mirror over the sink. Good Lord…he was right. Tears were rolling down her cheeks in a slow stream.

Raising her hands, she brushed them off.

The man turned to face the mirror as well, and his face was as sad as she felt. “You know what?” he said. “I don’t think either one of us should be doing this. I’m trying to get back at someone who doesn’t care who I sleep with, and I just didn’t want anyone else getting hurt. That’s why I came to…”

“A whore,” she finished for him. “That’s why you came to me.”

God, her reflection looked awful. Her heavy eyeliner was melting off and her cheeks were paper white and her hair was frizzed out.