“Too soon?” asks Jillian. “Yeah, too soon. My bad.” She brightens back up again and does a little shimmy of glee. “Lots to be excited about today, though! Ready to see what Sugar Daddy picked out for you?”
That does nothing to quell my flushed face. “Please do not call him that.”
“Would you prefer Zaddy? Silver Fox? The Geezer Who Pays Your Bills?”
She links her arm through mine. “Tough titty. I’m a yapper. Let’s go.”
Maison Élise is in the Meatpacking District. The building doesn’t have a sign, just a small brass plaque next to an anonymous black door. If you didn’t know it was there, you’d walk right past.
I wrinkle my nose. “I hate it already.”
She opens the door and I pause on the threshold. Places like this have a smell. It’s not just the boujee oil diffusers hidden in the ceili
