Confidential Escort Service? Yes... I, uh, am interested in hiring a man .

Lucas McCall stopped dead in front of Dr. Olivia Martin's open office door. Escort service? Had he heard correctly? Had she just said she wanted to hire a man?
The corridor was dark, illuminated only by the light coming through the door. It was late, almost ten, and the Mount Rainier Maternity Clinic was almost deserted, with only the staff on duty. Still, Lucas looked around as he approached the door. He was there to oversee clinic security, not to gossip about what the doctors were saying.

–No, I don't have any particular preference. It doesn't really matter.

She was speaking in a low voice and Lucas had to strain to hear her.

–No, you don't understand, I don't care what color your hair is.

She seemed impatient. Lucas looked up and down the corridor again. Surely, this wasn't what it seemed. There had to be some other explanation—a joke, a research project? Why would a woman like her need to hire a man?
"Look, you're not listening to me. None of that matters. I just need someone for a few days. A week at most. And I pay well."
Lucas moved quietly, moving closer to the door. He could hear the agitation in her voice, and he was feeling a little agitated himself. He was finding this hard to swallow. Was Olivia Martin willing to pay for male company?
"No, no," she sighed, as if answering a question. "Believe me, that's not what I'm calling you for. I don't care if that's what everyone says at first... Well, you're wrong. I'm not ashamed, and I'm not your mistress. Look, believe it or not, I don't want to hire someone for... Well, for that."

Lucas let out the air he'd been holding in his lungs. That's it. She didn't want to hire someone to do that. Thank God.

–If you'd stop talking for a moment and listen to me... Yeah, well, I'm sure you've heard all this before, sir, but still... No, I've got nothing against blondes, I've got nothing against any particular hair color, all I'm looking for is someone to, well, to play...

She lowered her voice even further, and for a moment, Lucas thought she'd hung up. He leaned a little closer, just enough to sneak a peek inside. She was sitting behind her desk, holding her phone in one hand and pinching the bridge of her nose with the other.
"Oh, look," she said, shaking her head. "Forget it, forget I called you. No, no, it doesn't matter. I changed my mind."

She hung up with a slam, so hard he flinched and took several steps back into the shadow. He leaned against the wall, closed his eyes, and breathed deeply. It had been a long time since he'd been out with anyone, but could things have changed that much in that time? Was this how girls met guys these days? By hiring their services?

It had been three years since their divorce, but ending a seven-year marriage had left a lasting impression on him. After Pam, he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to trust a woman again. He knew not all of them were as manipulative and scheming as his ex-wife, but he wasn't sure he could tell which ones were and which ones weren't. He'd once believed Pam loved him, believed he could save her from a loveless life and that she needed him, but what she'd fallen in love with and what she needed was his checking account.

Lucas had taken too long to admit what was happening, too long to see how she could use his love against him, how she could maneuver to get what she wanted. He'd been blind to all of it, trying to tell himself that what he needed to do was give it time, that she would realize that marriage was about more than wanting
things, to have them or to get them. But the day it...