Dirty Dining by EM Lynley

wouldn’t you know, he’s so popular he’s all booked up, or so they told me. No surprise there.” Cathcart made a sound so obviously sexual it had even Ron’s ears turning red.
    Brice wasn’t sure he could speak and didn’t quite know how to respond if he did. Thankfully, Susana arrived with an armful of leather-bound folders. “Here’re the contracts. Thank you, Susana.”
    She eyed the Champagne bottle as she set the folders down on the table in front of the couch. She pulled three pens out of the inner pocket of her suit jacket and handed them to Brice. Then she turned on her heel and headed for the door again, but she directed a disdainful stare at the back of Cathcart’s head.
    “Wonder if she heard what I was sayin’.” Cathcart laughed and emptied his glass. He didn’t offer an apology in case she had.
    Ron glanced over at Brice and raised his eyebrows. She’d heard all right. Brice just hoped Susana hadn’t connected Brice with Cathcart’s activities. He wouldn’t want her to know he’d been at the Dinner Club.
    “Brice?” Ron’s voice cut into Brice’s thoughts. “The man wants to sign.”
    “Yes, let’s just go over a few points….”

Chapter TWELVE
     
     
    J EREMY WENT to his lab Wednesday morning on autopilot. Despite the beers, he hadn’t slept well. He’d put all the cash back in the folder and stuck it in a dresser drawer. He needed the money, but it still felt dirty to him. Eventually he’d deposit it in his bank account, but he wasn’t ready yet to accept how he’d earned it.
    His cell phone vibrated in his pocket twice before noon, but he avoided checking the messages. At the third call, he turned off the vibration. After class, he walked back to the apartment for lunch, and while he waited for toast for his tuna sandwich, he pulled the phone out. Ten texts, all from Thomas. The last one: Call me, you idiot .
    Jeremy chuckled and dialed.
    “Jeremy, where the hell have you been?”
    “Working in my lab.”
    “Okay, fair enough.”
    “What’s up?” Jeremy’s stomach gurgled, and he didn’t know if it was from hunger or something else.
    “Dude, I’ve had ten requests for you already this morning. Can you work tonight?”
    “Tonight? No. I’m scheduled for the lab every night this week.”
    “Well, reschedule something. Everything. You’re a hot commodity, and you want to take advantage of it while it lasts.”
    “I don’t understand.” Unfortunately, Jeremy worried he understood too well.
    “After last night’s little performance, members are requesting you. Some of them are very keen, and they’re offering bonus tips just to get on your schedule.”
    “Really?” Should he be flattered? That a bunch of rich guys wanted to get their hands in his pants? “Just for dinner? Or you mean nightcaps?”
    “Dinner only. The nightcaps are up to you. I couldn’t schedule them in advance, not legally.” Thomas’s voice somehow conveyed a wink, and Jeremy tried not to laugh.
    “Ten?” Jeremy’s curiosity bubbled in his gut. Was Green one of them? He wouldn’t ask, no matter how much he wanted to.
    “Yes. No. Actually four more came in while we’ve been on the phone. You’ll need to decide who you want to serve, and when. Do you want to come by and check their profiles?”
    “Profiles?”
    “Yeah. Once you start getting requests, you get to choose, instead of it being random. Usually it takes longer for new boys to collect a clientele, but you’re already a star.”
    Jeremy didn’t feel like a star. He felt like a whore. What if someone at Cal found out what he was doing? Fuck. Maybe he should look at the profiles so he didn’t end up serving a Cal faculty member. “Okay. I can come by this afternoon. Give me an hour and a half. My bike got stolen and—”
    “I’ll send a car to your apartment to pick you up. Forty minutes.”
    Jeremy gave Thomas his address and hung up. The toast had popped while he’d been talking, and it was cold now. He slid