I had trouble focusing on the show after Sookie left. My mind was racing—thinking about what had just happened, of course, and also planning when I could see her again. I didn't want her to think I was the kind of guy who expected public blowjobs and then never called.

I wanted a relationship with Sookie and wanted to show her that I knew how to romance a woman when I wanted her. And I definitely wanted Sookie.

I knew my day and night would be pretty packed with back to back shows, but I intended to find time to call her and ask her out. The thought of her feeling insecure about us after what had happened made me feel like I needed to assure her as soon as possible that I had honorable intentions.

I had a few brief notes after the next show, and then everyone went outside to greet the guests. I saw some dancers and singers I'd worked with before, but hadn't hired for Spiderman and I felt a twinge of guilt when they came over to say hello.

I was glad to be pulled away when the wardrobe guy from Knott's came over and started a conversation. I didn't know him very well, but I knew his name was Andre and he worked with Sophie-Anne LeClerq.

After the usual pleasantries, he said, "I hear Sookie Stackhouse was just here."

"Yeah, you just missed her."

"Oh, then I guess there's no point in my asking you to put in a word for me here in the wardrobe department."

"I'm sorry, what?" Did he realize that something had happened between me and Sookie?

"If Sookie was here … well, let's just say I can't compete with her skills." He kind of raised an eyebrow and I started to feel uncomfortable. "You know, the skills she has when she's on her knees."

I wondered if he could hear my heart beating. I wanted to knock his teeth out of his head, but then a part of me was also curious as to why he'd say such a thing. The fact that she had just shown me those particular skills was a fairly enormous coincidence.

"She seems like a nice girl to me," I said innocently.

"Well, of course, she does. That's her angle. The sweet girl. But she's only as sweet as you pay her to be."

"Pay her?" I choked out. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?" I wondered if my face was as red as it felt.

"Yeah. Just ask her some time how she got the job at Knott's. One of her johns helped her out. She's very candid about it."

"I don't believe that." But, did I? Suddenly, her behavior behind the Terminator ride made more sense. Did she think I could get her a job here? Had I just been used like a tool?

Andre just shrugged, and at that moment, one of the dancers came over and interrupted us. I excused myself, and Andre handed me his business card and said, "I'm available," before I turned to leave.

I went backstage and found the mens room and splashed cold water on my face. Sookie was a hooker? There's no way that could be true. But hadn't I just marveled that she blew me like a pro? Was I really so naïve that I couldn't spot what she was? Was I just blinded by her beauty? And those damned shorts?

Suddenly, I felt like a complete idiot. And here I was planning to ask her on a date. I was pissed. Pissed at myself for not seeing her clearly. Pissed at being duped. Duped by a professional. She didn't like me. She wanted me to get her a job. Or maybe become a paying customer. She was like a drug dealer handing out the first sample for free. What a fool I'd been.

I sat on that news for a few days and vacillated between vowing to never have anything else to do with Sookie and giving her a chance to explain.

I finally caved and called her, hoping Andre was mistaken and there was a reasonable explanation for what he'd told me. A very big part of me was still crazy about her and so hoped Andre was wrong. It made my stomach churn to think of her on her knees, sucking strangers' cocks for money. It was disgusting.

Hearing her voice did funny things to my insides. I pictured her sweet smile and wished I had never run into Andre and could just continue my fantasy of pursuing Sookie. But I caught myself and came right out and asked her how she'd gotten her job at Knott's.

And I'll be damned if Andre wasn't right. She didn't even try to hide it. I thought, well, that's that. She was what she was, but I couldn't move forward with her knowing that. It was just too … awful.

I came to the painful realization that my dream girl was just that—a dream. She wasn't really who I thought she was and I needed to move on. I promised myself I would never call her again and hoped I'd never see her again. It was done. Over.