Uncomplicated: A Vegas Girl's Tale by Dawn Robertson, Jo-Anna Walker

protest when I realized an older woman was hugging her.
    “Oh Jenny. It’s so good to see you. Are you hurt? Are you happy? Will you please tell me what is going on?” The older woman with vibrant red hair flowing down to her shoulders, held Jennifer’s face in her hands.
    “I’m fine, Mom. Please, let me go,” Jennifer said, trying to shove out of her grip.
    I bit back a chuckle. It amazed me that although she fucked for a living, she wasn’t into small touches of affection from those that loved her. Well no more. No more clients. It would be me and only me touching her from now on.
    “You must be Mathis,” a large man said, his deep gruff voice invading my thoughts, and slightly intimidating me.
    “Sir.” I stuck out my hand and shook his in greeting. His graying hair surrounded a face that was weathered due to the sun but his blue eyes shone with love as he watched his wife and daughter reunite.
    “I heard you married my daughter,” he bit out and placed a heavy hand on my shoulder, forcing me to take a step back out of ear shot of the women he clearly loved.
    I nodded once.
    “Why?”
    I thought a moment. Why did I marry her? To fuck her? No, I could have had that with no problems as long as I flashed a couple of bills in front of her face. My stomach clenched. Nice fucking way to think about your wife, Mathis .
    But, I didn’t know about her job or the clients she had. It was like she was put on this earth for me, to make me feel whole. Complete. Something had been missing for the past couple of weeks, or maybe even longer. My club, Club Rouge was doing well in New York and Club Maroon would be fucking epic but it wasn’t enough. I needed more. I craved it. It controlled my thoughts, my actions and since meeting Jennifer two days ago, I felt the hole in my life start to fill. Call me a pussy for using these corny metaphors but it was the fucking truth.
    “Did you hear my question, boy?” Jennifer’s father barked.
    Oh I heard him alright. My jaw tensed. Play it cool, Mathis. He had every right to second guess my reasoning for marrying his daughter. I would do the same. I had to respect the guy for that. “Why don’t you remind me?” I asked, not taking my gaze off of Jennifer and her mother.
    The older man rolled his eyes. “Why did you marry my daughter?”
    I said the first thing that came to mind. “It had to be.”

B APTISM BY F IRE
    (Jenny)
    “Is he some kind of drug lord, Jennifer?”
    Leave it to my mother to ask the single most ignorant question on planet earth the moment she met my husband.
    “That accent is what, Columbian?”
    I can’t help but roll my eyes.
    “No mother. He is not a drug dealer. He isn’t from South America either.”
    If you took every last ignorant stereotype about Bible Thumpers and packaged them nicely together, you would get my parents. It was sad, but true. The unintended backhanded racism. The ignorant stereotypes perpetuated by Hollywood movies. And the suspicion of anyone who didn’t carry a Bible in their purse and throw around their Christian beliefs.
    Just as Mathis neared with my annoyed looking father by his side, I realized how little I actually know about my husband. Nope, he was European. But I had no freaking clue where he was actually from.
    “Honey, what country is it that you are from again? I can never keep it straight.” I bat my eyelashes at him and act genuinely clueless.
    He picked up on my performance quickly as he wrapped his arm around my waist and placed a chaste kiss on my cheek.
    “Bulgaria, honey.”
    “I was just telling my mother about your European heritage. You know, I would love to travel to Europe someday.” It was the truth. The only place I ever had a desire to travel was Europe. The rich history always fascinated me. You can keep the tropical islands and the muggy climates. Give me some museums and ancient architecture and I would be a happy girl. Oh, and let’s not forget the food. This girl had curves for a damn