Chapter 6

“But I own a business which—how shall I put it?—facilitates young men meeting other men who may or may not possess the requisites for a match made in heaven. Those choices are ultimately up to the individuals involved.”

Okay, so Wren had no idea what this dude was talking about—and it was starting to creep him out. “I don’t get you.”

Before Dave could answer, Chip re-approached them. “Are you boys doing okay? Need anything?”

Dave considered Wren’s half-empty—or was that half-full?—glass and said hurriedly, “Two more of the same.”

Chip hurried away. Quick sticks. Wren doubted the guy moved as fast for anyone else in the bar.

While Chip got their drinks, Dave pulled a black leather wallet from his pants pocket. The leather was rich, finely grained, and bore the discreet Prada logo in pewter. From it he extracted a business card and handed it to Wren.