The elevator doors opened into my mother’s lavish apartment. One of her servants nearly dropped the tray she was carrying. “Mr. Wolfe!”

“I’m sorry to startle you. I need to see my mother.”

“She’s having a massage right now,” the woman said.

“Ah, I suppose I shouldn’t interrupt that.”

“That would be best, sir.”

“I’m sure it would be. However, I’m in a hurry.” I scurried through the foyer and living area, up the stairs, and down the hall to my mother’s meditation chamber. Yeah, that was what she called it.

The aroma of lavender and chamomile crept through the doorway. Blech. Some people found the scent relaxing. I found it putrid. Or maybe it was just this whole situation that was putrid. I touched the door handle. It could very well be locked, but I had a hunch.

I turned it.

Voilà! I opened the door and made my way through the chamomile fog to—

Oh, God. No way would I ever be able to unsee what laid before my eyes.

My mother’s massage therapist—if you could call him that—had his head between her spread legs.

If I weren’t already a mess, this would have put me over the edge.

My mother was still a beautiful woman with a great body.

I’d never wanted to see this much of it, though.

I cleared my throat. Loudly, over the Native American flute music.

The head between my mother’s legs shot up.

“Good afternoon, Mother,” I said.

The therapist threw a sheet over my mother’s nudity. Good call. I’d be sure he got a bonus, though eating my mother might negate that. Did he fuck her too?

And why was I even asking myself that question? Of course he did.

“You’re dismissed,” I said to him.

“Yes, sir.” He moved quickly to exit the room.

I didn’t get a good look at him, but he was tall and well built. I wouldn’t have been able to pick him out of a lineup, though. I probably should have looked at his face.

I just didn’t want to see my mother’s lubricant on his chin.

I’d been feeling sick all day, and this was the clincher. I swallowed. Hard.

My mother popped up into a sitting position. “Reid! What are you doing here?”

“You do know solicitation is against the law, right? I could have you arrested.”

“I wasn’t paying him.”

“Connie, you were there when I was born, so you know damned well it wasn’t yesterday. Of course you were paying him for sexual services. I won’t hesitate to have you both arrested.”

“Really? You might want to talk to you brother before you make those kinds of threats.”

“My brother backs me completely.”

“Does he?”

Was she talking about Rock or Roy? Probably Rock, though it didn’t really matter. “Yes,” I said confidently. “He does.”