“Hello, Princess, please take a seat here.” The dapper man in the suit bowed before Ethan, guiding him to a booth:
“Since it’s your first time here, you only need to pay $20 if you don’t order any drinks. There are no other hidden charges.”
“Thanks.” Ethan’s mouth twitched, unable to help but marvel at the blatant lies these gentlemen’s club servers could tell.
Addressing a man as “Your Highness” just gave him the creeps.
Once Ethan was seated, the suited charmer respectfully bowed and left.
Ethan’s gaze shifted towards Victoria, the real reason he was here. When he finally got a clear view, his eyes widened. In the dim light, Victoria’s hand was already reaching towards the hem of a male escort’s shirt, caressing his abdomen.
The two were drinking and touching, their interaction brimming with intimacy.
“Did Michael really not lie to me?”
In this city, there were plenty of private detectives who specialized in uncovering affairs.
In fact, investigating infidelity was a major part of a private detective’s job.
But seeing how openly Victoria Martin was behaving, she seemed exactly like the type who would cheat.
He kept stealing glances, when suddenly, a handsome man approached, carrying a cocktail-making kit.
“Your Highness.” The man set up his cocktail tools in front of Ethan. “Allow me to mix a drink for you.”
His voice was drawn out, his eyes locked on Ethan, almost flirting.
Ethan shuddered, waving his hand to let him proceed.
He then looked towards Blair.
At Blair’s booth, several women who had come to seek pleasure unknowingly surrounded him, leaving the male escorts aside.
They were toasting to Blair.
Ethan’s mouth twitched again as he observed the noisy, dreamy drunkenness around him.
As just another guest, his options were limited.
He turned to the man pouring his drink. “Hey, you guys hire male escorts, right? I’d like to meet your manager.”
The bartender looked up, his expression sour as if he’d swallowed a fly, but he didn’t make a scene.
He stood up and left the booth.
Soon after, a woman in a sharp suit and bobbed hair approached Ethan. She sat down across from him, sizing him up. “That’s a novel way to apply for a job.”
Ethan picked up a glass from the table and took a sip. “Because I think the most important qualities for a qualified male escort are two things. First, you need to have a thick skin.”
He held up two fingers. “Second, the ability to spout nonsense, to be able to speak awkwardly without hesitation.”
“Oh, I see you’ve got the thick skin,” the woman in the suit laughed. “And the second?”
“Isn’t that what I’m doing right now?” Ethan chuckled.
The woman paused, then burst out laughing. She then leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand, her gaze intense and slightly menacing as she stared into Ethan’s eyes.
“Hey, kid, don’t underestimate male escorts!”
Being a male escort was a job without a base salary, so gentlemen’s clubs were always short-staffed.
Ethan was definitely above average in looks—not stunning at first glance like Blair, but very appealing in a durable way.
He could rival some popular celebrities.
Especially with his body in a state between frailty and health, he had a softness that could easily evoke a protective instinct in older, mature women—a lethal charm of a special agent.
But clearly.
The woman in the suit in front of him was somewhat angered by his brazen attitude.
Her gaze was dangerous, treating him like a troublemaker.
“Male escorts treat every client like a true princess, making everyone who comes here feel gently cared for,” the woman in the suit said, looking straight at Ethan. “It’s not a job you can excel at just by being good-looking.”
Ethan was silent for a moment, then casually reached down and began to unbuckle his belt right in front of her.
Each booth was designed with privacy in mind, ensuring that actions below the table remained unseen by those outside.
Ethan wasn’t worried about exposure. As he unzipped his pants, he activated his skill, Hard as a Rock LV4.
A section of his anatomy peeked out from under the table.
But he wasn’t concerned about others seeing,after all, no one would guess what it was.
The manager’s pupils dilated in surprise.
Ethan flicked it with his finger, activating the Hard as a Rock skill, and it remained immovably erect.
The manager’s mouth fell open.
Ethan then used it to lift the table slightly, yet it remained perfectly rigid.
“Want to give it a try?”
The manager, eyes wide, tentatively reached out and touched it, pulling her hand back reluctantly after confirming it was real.
“You can call me Zoe. I’m the owner of this place. Congratulations, you’re hired.”
“I won’t let you down!” Ethan bowed respectfully.
“Come with me, I’ll get you registered.” Zoe, recovering from her initial shock, placed a hand on her hip and teased, “You look pretty slim, not underage, are you?”
“I’m definitely of age.” Ethan pulled out his ID, showing that he had just turned 18 a few months ago.
“Just turned adult, huh? Didn’t feel like studying?” Zoe glanced at his ID before handing it back. “Come on.”
She led the way.
Ethan followed, glancing at Victoria. She and the young handsome guy were slightly tipsy, chatting non-stop, with two empty bottles on the table indicating they’d been drinking quite a bit.
He shifted his focus,Michael’s life had at least a month left, so there was no rush. Being too hasty might only raise suspicions.
Ethan followed Zoe to the back where several male escorts were relaxing and chatting.
They were all extravagantly dressed and shot hostile looks at Ethan as he walked by with Zoe.
Everyone knew that the so-called service with a smile was just an excuse,at the end of the day, the women who came for fun obviously preferred handsome men.
Ethan ignored their scrutinizing gazes.
He hadn’t really planned on working as a male escort here. From Victoria’s direct visit to this club, it was clear she was a frequent visitor.
Investigating here was his best chance to gather the information he needed.
They reached an office at the far end.
Zoe opened the door and led him inside. It was a typical office with a desk in the middle, filing cabinets along the wall, and a set of sofas and a coffee table.
“Let’s start with your working hours, whether you’d be full-time or part-time.”
“Part-time,” Ethan interrupted with a smile. “I have my own things during the day, so I can only come here for a few hours at night.”
“That’s fine.” Zoe casually handed him a contract. “You get a 30% commission on drinks, 40% if you were full-time.”
“That’s fine, 30% will do.” Ethan quickly signed the contract, which was more of a formality. “Can I start working now?”
“Of course,” Zoe said, a hint of regret in her eyes. “But remember, you can only approach a client when they’re alone.”