“People think being attractive—or talented or intelligent or whatever—means you should have ‘other options,’ or that sex work is a last resort. There’s nothing wrong with what I do, and I’m certainly not waiting for someone to come along and ‘save’ me.” He kept his eyes firmly down. Any minute now, he expected John to launch into one of the sanctimonious speeches he’d heard a hundred times before.

A small eternity of tense silence passed. John didn’t respond. Zack finally couldn’t take it anymore. He risked a quick peek and then looked up fully. John had his hand pressed over a broad smile.

“I’m so sorry, Zack,” he said, looking anything but. “I should have clarified. I didn’t mean to suggest that pretty people are too good for your line of work. I meant, why aren’t you in some branch of the industry where people can see you? With your face, I figured you’d be doing something that involved cameras.”

“Ah,” Zack said. Embarrassment hit him like a brick wall. “Would you please excuse me for a moment? I need to insert my foot into my mouth.”

John waved him off, still smiling. “No need. I’m sure you get more than your fair share of ignorance from people. I paid for your services for several weeks, though. I have no room to judge.”

“You’d be surprised,” Zack scoffed. “My clients judge me all the time.”

“Wow, that’s hypocritical, to put it mildly.”

“Tell me about it. It’s infuriating.”

“Does your family know what you do? Or your friends?”

“My sister knows, and my friend Kira, and obviously you met Alexa. It’d be pretty difficult for me to hide it from her, considering we met at work. Other than that, no.”

Just then, their food arrived. Zack thanked the waiter and glanced at his plate. The veal looked tender enough to cut with a spoon, but there was some kind of foreign-looking green sauce on top. Zack guessed that was the gremolata. He tried not to make a face and failed.

“Just try it,” John assured him. “If nothing else, it’ll be an experience.”

“It smells great,” Zack said honestly. He picked up his silverware and cut a bite that was covered in the sauce. As John watched, he brought it to his mouth.

When it first hit his tongue, he expected savory and got sweet instead. Only manners kept him from spitting it out in surprise. The honey-like taste of the whiskey faded a moment later and was replaced by a coolness that must have come from the mint. He could also taste sharp lemon zest and fresh garlic. He chewed carefully, and all the flavors mingled into an amalgamation that was equally sweet, salty, tangy, and smoky. It was disconcerting, but tasty.