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That hadn’t been the word I’d been expecting. She bristled immediately at the look on my face. “You know what I mean. Client, is that a better word? What happened? Was it awful?”

I sighed, fixing my gaze on the surface of my coffee, hoping it might just contain some of the answers to the riotous thoughts and questions which kept plaguing me at regular intervals. “No. That’s the problem. It was a long way from awful. If anything, it was even better than last time.” I lifted my head, looking her straight in the eye. “What does that say about me? Am I really kinky?”

Georgia immediately covered her mouth with her hand, a clear attempt to stifle a laugh.

“Oh, thanks, Georgia, thanks a lot for your support.” I was genuinely offended. Normally, I could rely on Georgia to offer a sympathetic ear. We’d gone to school together. Had been each other’s confidantes for years. We were meant to be each other’s shoulder to lean on.

She reached across the table, placing her hand over mine. “Dean, I’m not laughing at you, honest. I just found it funny that you think having sex in the dark constitutes being kinky. If anything, it’s the opposite of kinky. You’re probably the most vanilla person I know.”

“Then why am I enjoying it?”

Georgia tilted her head to one side, giving the question great thought. “You’re probably just really, really horny. I mean when was the last time, in real life, that you did anything that didn’t just involve your own hand? I can’t even remember you going on any dates recently. I mean, you’re gorgeous. You should have a line of guys queueing up to date you. Then maybe you wouldn’t be so sexually frustrated that you’re desperate enough for any scrap of attention from some weirdo that can’t be seen in the light.”

I pondered her words for a moment. “I’ve decided he’s probably blind.”

“What?”

“The guy. I don’t think he’s a weirdo. I think he might be blind. It would make sense, right? The whole, being in the dark thing wouldn’t bother him.”

Georgia took a sip of the coffee grimacing at the taste. She always complained I made it way too strong. “Maybe. Although, it doesn’t explain why he doesn’t want to be touched. Anyway, I think you’re thinking about this way too much. I don’t think you should go back there. I’ll get another job. We can—”

I cut her off. “I am going to go back there. I want to find out more about him. Try and crack the mystery.”

There was no mistaking the pitying glance Georgia threw my way. I chose to ignore it and got up instead to put some bread in the toaster. I felt her gaze on me, tracking my movements around the kitchen. The toast had popped, and I was liberally covering it in butter before she spoke again. “I’ve got a date on Friday night with Benedict.”

I gave the toast to Georgia, putting more bread in the toaster for myself. “Great. Have a nice time.”

“His best friend…they do everything together, is apparently gay.” She paused to take a large bite of her toast. “I’ve met him a couple of times. He’s pretty hot. Ben’s suggested hooking you two up a few times. I’ve always said no. I said you wouldn’t go for it, but now I think about it, it would be a really great idea. We can double-date which means you won’t be on your own, so less pressure. And you can meet someone…normal…in the light…someone who’s not paying you. What do you say?”

I sat back down with my own toast. “I can’t do Friday.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve said I’ll look after Bobby.”

Georgia’s glare could reduce most grown men to tears. Luckily, after years of being subjected to it, I was virtually immune. She drummed her fingertips on the table. “Can’t your brother get a babysitter for once?”

“He’s my nephew. I offered.”

“Yeah, and I bet your brother dropped enough hints around you, until you offered. He knows you’re a soft touch. Ring him and tell him you’ve got a date, so you can’t do it.”

I took a large bite of toast and chewed it slowly, playing for time. “And what about when this friend of your boyfriend asks what I do?”

I winced as Georgia reached across and whacked me on the arm. “Don’t be a dick, Dean! You tell him you’re an actor, and you wait tables, and you leave out the job that you hardly ever do anyway.”

I rubbed at the sore spot on my arm. “Maybe. I’m not promising anything though. It’s probably too late for my brother to find a babysitter.”

* * * *

I pulled my attention back to Simon with difficulty. My date was currently talking me through the entire decision process of buying his new car. If he’d noticed my attention wandering, he was either too polite to mention it, or liked the sound of his own voice so much he didn’t really care. I dropped a quick question out there, something to do with the size of the engine. It must have passed muster: he answered it with enthusiasm, rather than recoiling with a look of confusion or horror at my lack of motor knowledge.

Georgia had constantly told me over the last few days how good-looking Simon was. He was, but in a sort of trendy and over-styled way which wasn’t really doing anything for me at all. I imagined from everything he was saying, that the new car was of a similar vein. I immediately chided myself for the thought. It wasn’t like me to be so judgmental. There again, it wasn’t like me to let myself get talked into a date with a stranger either. I was saved from a detailed description of the new hubcaps Simon had bid for on eBay, when Benedict banged his friend on the back and inclined his head toward the bar; a clear instruction to accompany him. Simon offered a sincere apology, assuring me he’d be back soon. I bit back the urge to tell him to take his time.

They’d barely gotten more than a few steps away before Georgia broke all known speed records to get from her side of the table to mine. She squirmed in next to me, elbowed me in the ribs, and ignored my yelp of protest while she gleefully grinned. “Well?”

I stared at her in confusion. “Well, what?”

Her look made me feel about two feet tall. She shook her head. “Dean, you are so irritating sometimes. He’s hot, right?”