Chapter 18
Theo
My knuckles turned white as I gripped the ladder, letting out a slow breath while stretching to hook another lantern onto the wire.
Fifteen feet up from the plaza's stone tiles, a breeze messed with my hair and made the paper lanterns already hanging sway back and forth.
From up here, the whole plaza looked like some fancy miniature movie set.
“A little to the left, Theo!” Kaiden called from below, hands framing the scene like some kind of director imagining a perfect shot. “We want them to form a magical canopy when they're all lit up!”
I shifted the lantern as instructed, carefully hooking it onto the wire, the colored paper crinkling softly beneath my fingers. “Like this?”
“Perfect!” Kaiden clapped his hands, enthusiasm contagious even as sweat trickled down my back. “When the sun sets, this place is going to be incredible.”
The main plaza of Dove Canyon was transforming into something almost surreal.
What had begun as an elegant gathering space was becoming a festive setting—white linen tablecloths spread across tables, glimmering crystal glasses scattering rainbows on the ground in the afternoon sun.
Around the edges of the plaza, velvet ropes on brass stands created discreet pathways and private alcoves, transforming the open space into an intimate labyrinth designed for both social interaction and private encounters.
The entire setting seemed to shimmer with expectation, as if the plaza itself anticipated the night to come.
“Water break!” Carter announced, appearing with bottles for Kaiden and me. His muscular arms glistened with sweat. “The Master wants everything wrapped up by five so we have time to get ready.”
I climbed down the ladder and grabbed the water, twisting off the cap and chugging it down.
The cold stuff felt amazing against the afternoon heat and calmed my nerves a bit.
All around us, other companions and staff were rushing to finish everything: setting up centerpieces, polishing silverware, moving chairs around so people could actually talk to each other.
“What’s the deal with these parties, anyway?” I asked, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “Everyone keeps talking about them like they’re some big deal.”
Carter and Kaiden exchanged a glance, the look of seasoned veterans about to share wisdom.
“Monthly soirées,” Kaiden said, leaning against one of the tables. “Vincent throws them for the guests, but they’re really networking events. High-powered guys who wouldn’t admit to knowing each other outside these walls can let their guard down here.”
“And for us,” Carter added, arching an eyebrow knowingly, “they’re opportunities.”
“Opportunities?” I echoed, curiosity piqued.
“Tips,” Lance clarified, joining our circle with a stack of folded napkins in his arms. He was newer than Kaiden and Carter but already had a few months on me—tall and lean, with auburn hair and freckles that made him look younger than his twenty-six years.
“These parties are the only time when clients can directly tip companions.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Tips? Like... cash?”
“Sometimes,” Lance said, placing the napkins on a nearby table and folding them into elaborate shapes.
“But usually it's gifts. Watches, jewelry, designer clothes. I got a Rolex last time from a tech CEO who was feeling generous after I spent the evening keeping his champagne glass full and pretending to laugh at his dad jokes.”
“Didn’t even have to sleep with him,” Carter added with a smirk. “Though, plenty of that happens too, especially later in the night.”
I tried to keep my expression neutral, but my mind raced. Tips. Extra cash beyond my already decent salary that could go straight toward Casey's rehab costs? Hell yes!
If these clients were as wealthy as everyone claimed, and as generous as Lance suggested, a single good night could cover weeks of Casey's therapy.
A watch like Lance's Rolex could be sold for enough to pay for months of better care.
For the first time since arriving at The Ranch, I felt a surge of genuine enthusiasm for the job; not just resignation about necessary sacrifice but actual motivation.
“What's the strategy?” I asked Lance while the others continued working. “For maximizing tips, I mean.”
Lance glanced around to make sure no supervisors were within earshot. “Find someone who's trying to impress others with their wealth. Make them feel special but not pandered to. And always, always respond with massive gratitude for even small gifts. Makes them want to top themselves next time.”
“The last party got pretty wild,” Kaiden continued, his fingers deftly creating a perfect fan from a linen napkin. “Remember that oil magnate from Houston? The one who thought the fountain made a perfect swimming pool?”
Carter snorted. “Hard to forget. Especially since he insisted on bringing three companions in with him.”
Their stories painted these events as glamorous and unpredictable, part sophisticated cocktail party, part decadent escapade. I imagined Ricard mingling among the guests, wondering how things were going back in Dallas, what turmoil he might face with his brother, and if he would even return.
If he’d return at all.
“Anyone know what we’re wearing tonight?” Lance wiped sweat off his forehead and draped an arm around Carter. “Please tell me it’s not those awful gold lamé shorts from the Valentine's Day event.”
Kaiden shuddered dramatically. “God, no. Those were crimes against both fashion and comfort.” He lowered his voice, though there were no clients within earshot.
“The Master showed me the outfits earlier. Black silk-blend boxer briefs—very tasteful, but definitely sexy. They cling in all the right places, with just enough sheen to catch the light when you move.”
“Waistband?” Carter asked, leaning in like we were discussing top-secret government files.
“Low on the hips,” Kaiden confirmed. “Cut to enhance our assets, if you catch my drift.”
“Thin enough to leave little to the imagination?” Lance inquired.
“But opaque enough to keep some mystery,” Kaiden finished, flashing a confident smile. “Ibrahim has good taste. We’ll look like living sculptures.”
A thought crossed my mind: these outfits actually sounded pretty tasteful. Damn, maybe I’m adapting to this job faster than I thought. “So what happens at these parties?” I asked. “Besides the usual drinking and... whatever comes after.”
Kaiden perched on the edge of a nearby bench, crossing his legs.
“It’s actually quite structured, at least at the start.
Cocktail hour begins at nine, with passed hors d'oeuvres and champagne. That’s when you’ll see everyone at their most composed—clients in linen suits or designer casual wear, companions in our uniforms. Everything very civilized. ”
“Around ten,” Carter continued, “dinner’s served. It’s always incredible. Vincent flies in chefs from New York or Los Angeles for these events. You’ll be assigned to either general service or to a specific client, depending on requests.”
“After dinner comes the entertainment,” Kaiden added, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “Sometimes it’s relatively tame, like a jazz quartet or a mentalist. Other times? It's more interactive. Last month, they had a demonstration of Japanese rope bondage with volunteers from the audience.”
“Damn,” I muttered. “And the clients just... volunteer?”
“Oh honey,” Kaiden laughed, “these guys pay a fortune to be here precisely because it’s a place where they can indulge their desires. Getting publicly bound and displayed? For some of our sugar daddies, that’s the highlight of their year.”
I nodded, absorbing their words. This place was designed explicitly for fantasy fulfillment, where usual inhibitions were suspended. The elegant plaza transformed into a playground of indulgence, where the wealthy men who frequented Dove Canyon could embrace their wildest fantasies.
The image was both intimidating and undeniably arousing. “And our job is...?” I left the question hanging.
“To make sure everyone has exactly what they need for an unforgettable evening,” Kaiden said. “Whether that’s another glass of champagne, stimulating conversation, or something more intimate.”
The conversation drifted to other topics as we continued working—gossip about clients, speculation about which companions would be most in demand that evening.
I nodded enough to seem like I was paying attention and forced some laughs when needed, but my mind kept bouncing between two things: Casey stuck in his bed at Thousand Oaks, and Ricard, somewhere between here and Dallas, maybe gone for good.
But every so often, I found myself scanning the property almost unconsciously, my eyes drawn to the path that led from the main gate to the villas.
The possibility that our last encounter might be our final one created an unexpected hollow feeling in my chest. Despite Ibrahim’s warnings about getting too attached, I couldn’t help hoping to see Ricard one more time.
This is pathetic, I chided myself, turned back to the task at hand, and rolled my shoulders, trying to release the physical tension that had built up there. You’ve known him for a week. He’s a client, not a boyfriend. Get it together.
“You excited about tonight?” Carter asked, appearing alongside me with another bottle of water.
I accepted it, using the moment it took to unscrew the cap to gather my thoughts.
“Yeah, actually. Sounds like it could be fun.” And lucrative, I added silently, thinking of Casey.
“I just don’t want to screw things up, you know?
” The words came out higher-pitched than intended, betraying my anxiety despite my attempt at casual confidence.