Sophia danced, just for a moment.  Truly she was waiting for the tone of her phone to play, wondering if he would take the bait.  She still had a small worry that she was wrong, and he would be confused or outraged.  It's why she had left the bar.  If she'd made a mistake, she'd just slink from the club and not come back.  There were plenty of clubs on the East Side, she never needed to return.<br/><br/>As soon as the ring came she stopped dancing, making a beeline off of the dance floor, snatching the phone from her bag.  No call, just a message.  Flopping herself down on a chair at the edge of the dancing, she opened the message.  He couldn't see her from here she knew, she could read it in privacy.<br/><br/>Well.  She hadn't been wrong.  Sophia stared at the message, reading it several times.  This boy was all business.  He not only did it, sex for money, he did it like a professional.  She didn't blink twice at the amount.  She'd dropped money on clothes and fun that dwarfed that.  What she'd left him was a deposit, a signal that she was serious.  No, it was the rest which possessed her.  Nothing was off limits, he said.  It was almost an invitation.  She hadn't thought of any need for limits, hadn't thought of anything that anyone would blink at.  But now she started to.<br/><br/><em>Meet me outside the bar in half an hour.</em>Car at the ready.  This was no date.  Was she going to do this?  She could just leave now, $200 poorer and one fantasy richer.<br/><br/>No, she wasn't going to leave.  She'd spent years hitting clubs and fantasizing.  Why not have one night to herself.  With the affair, she'd planned to tell Norman, it meant nothing, it was just a fling.  In this case, she really could tell him that, tell herself that.  She was paying for one night, she was not paying for love or affection or any emotion.  She was paying not to have that.<br/><br/>Sophia left the club 20 minutes later, and went to retrieve her car.  She sat there behind the driver's seat for a moment, watching the club, waiting.  She saw him emerge, felt her phone vibrate from his text.  Smiling to herself she started up the car, a Jaguar X351, and glanced down at the text.  She didn't bother answering, but drove to the club and pulled up to idle, double parking outside.  Her window slid down.  Suddenly she was not at all nervous.  "Climb on in, Justin."