But she’s shapely because her waist is narrow before flaring into wide hips and juicy thighs. I hear Trainor hyperventilate a bit next to me, and I smile grimly. That’s how I feel too.

“Do you like what you see?” she asks in a low hum, cupping her breasts in her hands. “I hope so.”

“Oh sweetheart,” I say in a choked voice. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen such perfection.”

Trainor growls beside me.

“Sweetheart, you’re like a thousand suns shining at once. I’m blinded by your glory.”

She giggles a bit then, her cheeks growing pink.

“Thank you,” she says. “I’m not used to such compliments.”

My friend and I share puzzled looks.

“Seriously?” I ask. “The truckers you see aren’t complimenting you constantly? They’re not telling you how gorgeous and amazing you are?”

She shakes her head slowly, that blond hair waving around her delicate shoulders.

“No. I’ve been going on outcalls for two years now, but somehow I never meet the right men. The truckers are nice, don’t get me wrong. They use my body, and it feels good. They’re kind too, and take care of me after they’re done. But it’s somehow … I don’t know, very tame. They tend to fall asleep right after, and then I spend the entire night listening to them snore.”

My friend and I share a look.

“Really?” Trainor says in a low voice. “That sounds really odd. The truckers I know are usually keen to compliment the ladies they meet. They appreciate the time and energy it takes to do an outcall, as well as the fact that our girls are daughters too.”

At that, Alizeh’s face falls a bit.

“I know, but maybe it’s because my dad … well, he left the club on not very good terms. I’m surprised they even let me stay.”

My friend and I share a puzzled look.

“I’m sorry sweetheart,” I apologize. “Trainor and I are on the road so often that we hardly keep up with club business. Who’s your dad again?”

I can tell that Alizeh doesn’t want to say. She looks down, wringing her small hands a bit. But then she takes a deep breath and looks into our eyes. The pain in her gaze is heart wrenching.

“His name is Michael Marron,” she says. “Mike isn’t a bad guy, I swear. He just got his priorities screwed up. He feels really terrible about what he’s done.”

I run the name over in my head a few times. Michael Marron. I look at Trainor, but he shakes his head too.

“No, I’m sorry, sweetheart. Never heard of him. When did this happen again?”

Alizeh blushes and looks down.

“About two years ago. Right after I was initiated.”

We nod.

“We were traveling overseas then. We had a long-haul job that took us to Spain, believe or not. Maybe that’s why we missed the news. But tell us, sweetheart. What did your dad do? What was so terrible that got him expelled?”

She shudders a bit at the word “expelled,” and I think I see a sheen of tears in her eyes. But Alizeh swallows hard, and takes a deep breath.

“My dad, you see, has never been sound of mind. At least, that’s what I tell myself, because he’s always made good money as a long-haul trucker. I’ve never wanted for anything, and as far as I know, we were fine financially.”

I nod. Long-haul truckers are paid well, and most of us make well into the six figures.

“And?” I ask gently.

Alizeh takes another big breath.

“Well, Mike … he kind of lost it,” she says quickly. “Some reporter was sneaking around. They’d heard of Dads and Daughters, and wanted a scoop on our activities. They sensed that Mike was the weakest link and offered him money to spill.”

My brows lower.

“The newspaper was going to pay a source? Which newspaper was this? Most journalistic publications have a policy against paying sources.”

Alizeh nods.

“I know, right? Definitely big publications like the New York Times and the Washington Post don’t pay sources. But in our case, it was the Mercury-Star. It’s more of a local publication, and known for its metro coverage. Somehow, someone there got to sniffing about, and wanted to talk to Mike about Dads and Daughters.”

“And he was going to spill,” I add slowly.

Alizeh blinks and nods, her lips trembling a bit.

“Yes,” she says in a quiet voice. “My dad sold out the club. He was going to tell them everything, for something like ten thousand dollars. He was going to sell out his fellow truckers, all for a pittance.”

The silence is loud in our suite for a few moments.

“Well,” Trainor says in a deep voice. “The sins of the father aren’t to be visited on the daughter.”

Alizeh looks down at her hands, her expression miserable.

“I know,” she says in a whisper. “I think that’s why the Lodge let me stay despite what my dad did. They knew I had nothing to do with Michael’s machinations, and when the Lodge elders confronted him about what he’d done, he fessed up and also said I had nothing to do with it.”

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