“What kinds of things did she lie about?” I asked.

But Des didn’t answer, and I watched her stare out past the boardwalk and the beach to the thick blue line where the ocean met the horizon. The air above it shimmered in the heat.

“I have an idea I’ve been meaning to float by you,” Des said.

“Shoot.”

Her eyes were still locked on the water—she knew I wasn’t going to like what she had to say. “There’s this flier someone was passing around at the club. One of the other girls gave it to me. A business opportunity.”

“Okay …”

“Well, it’s this service, right? Where rich men are looking to … take care of young, attractive women.”

“What do you mean, take care of?”

“They pay you to let them take you out on dates. Buy you nice things, take you out to good dinners.”

“Men pay you to let them buy you stuff? Come on, Des, that’s not all they’re paying for.” I had lived here my whole life; I’d seen how this kind of thing worked. Young women in short dresses getting into the back seats of strangers’ cars, disappearing into the night. In this town full of people who wanted to win and drink and take? No way an opportunity for generosity was what they were paying for.

“I’m serious! There’s all these online services, but with me at the club, we could do it that way.”

“I’m underage.”

“They’ll like that even better, trust me.”

“If it’s so good, why don’t you do it?”

“Ava, so many women do this, okay? It’s how young girls pay for college these days. No one can afford that shit otherwise, and there’s no harm in it. Let some moron buy you nice dresses, have a steak with someone here and there. I would love to do it, but no one wants to go out with an old hag like me.”

“You’re thirty-eight. That’s not old. And I still don’t see why anyone would want to do that—blow money on a stranger. What’s in it for the guy?”

Des sighed, rolled her head in slow circles. The little bones in her neck popped. “Some guy, probably married ten years, bored out of his mind, gets to go to a restaurant with a pretty little thing on his arm, order a good bottle of wine? It makes them feel powerful, alive. Men are like that; they need their egos fed constantly, the poor, stupid louts. Try this, just once. You hate it, we’ll try something else. But it sure as hell would be nice to pay the electric bill. To not have to hide when Bill comes knocking, right?”