didn’t hesitate. “A bottle of French champagne,” he declared. He returned his gaze to ‘Style Queen’ as the waiter trotted off. “What should I call you? I can’t call you Style Queen all night.”

Errol saw her thinking. She wasn’t going to give him her proper name but he didn’t expect anything of her. “Cassie. Just call me Cassie.” She laughed as though it was a big joke. “And you?”

“Trent,” he lied. Did it really matter what they called themselves? It was all show, this entire charade.

After a moment surveying the menu, Cassie said, “Why are you using this service? You wrote in your email that you’re separated from your wife.”

“For fun. Why?”

“Well, you&rsq...

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