I’d had two limo rides during my time here. The first was a few months after I started in the show. One of the producers took a few of us out after our New Year’s Eve performance. He wanted plenty in return. I escaped when we stopped to fuel up.

The second time was with a casino owner who took a liking to me. We dated a few times, but then, in the limo, he wanted to consummate our relationship. I wasn’t ready. Truth be told, I wasn’t ready now either.

Luckily, he didn’t press the point. He was quite persuasive, but he stopped before raping me. Then he never called me again.

Just as well.

“I’m your date,” Reid continued, “and I always see my dates safely home.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I chose to say nothing.

“Would you like a drink?” Reid asked.

“No, thank you.” After two flutes of champagne, I wasn’t feeling much pain, but I still had my right frame of mind. I didn’t want that to change anytime soon.

“Do you mind if I do?”

“Not at all.”

He scooted toward the bar and poured himself something dark. Bourbon or scotch, I’d guess. He took a drink and then set the glass in a holder, turning to me. “Tell me a little about yourself, Zee.”

I cleared my throat. “You know more about me than most.”

His cheeks turned a little ruddy. Had I embarrassed him?

“I know one thing that most probably don’t. There’s a whole lot I don’t know.”

“Well, the one thing you know isn’t something I’ve told anyone.”

“You told your lawyer.”

“Correction. I told your father’s lawyer. I didn’t have a lawyer.”

He nodded, taking another sip. “I see. Is that anything you’d like to talk about ?”

“I think I made it clear that it’s the one thing I never talk about,” I said.

“You did, but sometimes it helps to tell a friend.”

“I’d hardly call you a friend, Mr. Wolfe.”

“Please. Reid. I don’t like to think of myself as Mr. Wolfe.”

“Why?”

“My father was Mr. Wolfe.”

“Oh.” I nodded. I got it. Reid didn’t want to be associated with his father. Who could blame him? Certainly not I.

“So I’m Reid, just like Riley is Riley.”

I nodded again.

“I’d like to see your show.”

My show? Why would he want to see my show? “I’m sure with your resources you’ll have no problem getting tickets.” Did that sound snotty? I didn’t mean it that way.

“Of course. I’ll be here for a few days, at least.”

“I’m just part of the line,” I said. “I’m not a star or anything.” Which suited me just fine. I liked being invisible.

“I know that. I still want to see your work.”